Melinda Bobbin (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} _melinda_) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} finnigans_rpg, |
She tilted her head into his gentle touch as his hand framed her face. They were surrounded by the world, surrounded by hundreds, at least, of people, and yet though Melinda was aware of that, there was something so intensely private about his moment that they might as well have been in a windowless room; their own little private bubble of joy. She nodded, a sense of pride for him mixing in with the elation of being with him like this. They had won, he had achieved what he had worked so hard for with his team.
Every brush of his fingers against her hair had her blink slowly, savouring every touch, saving the memories like small treasures for her to examine when she was alone… when they were alone. She looked at him a little wonderingly when he spoke in Bulgarian, and smiled when his translation revealed that she had been correct in thinking he was thanking her. Slowly, she shook her head; Viktor had nothing to thank her for. “Thank you for inviting me here,” she smiled at him, only taking her eyes off him, when her attention was caught by the small object he held up for her to see. Melinda had seen images of Snitches, of course, but she didn’t think she’d ever seen an actual Snitch, little less one this up close. It was fascinating to see how easily and casually Viktor calmed it, and her eyes widened when he held it out to her. “Thank you.” Her tummy felt odd, deliciously odd, as she looked back up at him, her fingers closing around his and his gift for her. This was big, an amazing gesture. “Is that a Seeker thing or is this a special occasion?” she teased him gently.