nymphadora tonks is back from the stars. (hufflepunk) wrote in reoccurrence, @ 2020-08-26 20:06:00 |
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Work the rest out, and then this part. It sounded simple in theory, a neatly laid plan to soften all the sharp edges of their lives. Small sacrifices, a couple of boundaries negotiated, some minor unpleasantness swallowed back. And then, finally, relief. Never one for neatness, normally, it was something of a comfort to think of it that way, no matter how untrue it might be. What was real then? What was this conversation going to be like? She exhaled, puffing out a long breath of smoke as she took lazy, slow steps along the road home. Anger didn't scare her, but the potential breaking of trust did, the omissions of the last day, from asking Daphne for an interview, to leaving for it, to that flirtation and the conditional agreement she had made. (Nothing set in stone, not until she had talked to him. If he wasn't in, she wasn't. Hard line.) Tonks was terrified, truly, of wounding him. Of her willingness to do this putting a dent in all the honesty they had worked so hard to establish. Her cigarette burned close to her fingers and she took one last slow drag, the kind that was rough on her lungs but made her head spin nice and heady, and then crushed it under her boot and flicked out her wand to remove all evidence that anybody in the house might catch a whiff of. "Love?" Her head poked round the living room door, and then she entered, clicking it shut behind her. It was far later than she had intended to be out, a fact which unsettled her stomach further. Remus would have definitely been lying to have claimed not to be worried as he watched the time tick away, his wife still not back from wherever it was she had popped off to. He had argued with himself that he shouldn't be; he had no reason to be. Then again, their marriage to that point had seen them experience her being stalked by her psychotic estranged aunt, the pair of them dying only for him to 'reoccur' three months before she did, and then all of these new regulations - something wasn't sitting well in the pit of his stomach. There was no way he could have slept, especially alone on his in-law's couch while his son slept so close and yet so far away. He was on his feet the moment he heard the door, checking himself for being ridiculous before making his way to her. His mental plan was of course to act like he hadn't been worried at all, but unfortunately for him, his tell hadn't listened to reason and was still twitching away on his neck. "Are you going to tell me what you two were up to or do I have to wait for the Prophet article to give it their spin first?" he asked her, lips pressed to the top of her head as he attempted to shake off the lingering worry with playfulness. A soft sigh of, "Sorry," and then she was sinking into him, leaning up so that the next kiss was on his lips, tender and necessary. Something in her melted, giving way to let the tension ease out of her shoulders. If this was what she was coming home to, she could manage -- But that was getting ahead of herself. "I didn't mean to be out so late," she admitted, aware of his worry, reading his tells without even needing to focus much attention. The awkward joke, the way he moved to her. It didn't help much with that ache in her stomach, but nothing would until she cracked that ice once and for all. Barely missing a beat, she continued. "Do you think we could take a walk? I know it's late, it's, I -- there's something important." She swallowed, and wished there was a better way to lead into it that wasn't sure to strike further worry into him. But it wasn't the type of conversation to have in her mother's living room, her parents and their son in close proximity. Silencing charms could hide it, but wouldn't ease her discomfort. "I just don't want to talk about it here," she said. Remus smiled into the kiss, letting the fact that she was physically there in one piece calm the worry more. Had something terrible happened to keep her late, their reunion would have been far more clingy. That in itself did a lot to help shatter most of the scenarios that had managed to creep into his mind in the dark. Even when she told him that they needed to talk, yes whatever it was about was important, but it couldn't have been life or death important. He could hold onto at least that much. "Of course, cariad" he agreed, summoning his shoes and pulling away to put them on. He looked at her curiously, some of that worry filling back in, but he wasn't going to ask her about it until they were outside as she'd wanted. Once they were, however, and he'd fished for her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles, the only question that mattered to have answered was, "are you okay?" Dora looked up at him with a little smile. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay," it was a tired response, and one that was true on a number of basic levels, but became more untrue the more she thought about it with everything from the restrictions to Teddy to fucking dying piling up. But in that second, she was only grateful for the relief of being out of the house, of having her hand in his. In that sense, it was far from a lie. She waited until they were down the street a bit, heading in the direction of the small park they would take Teddy to, before swallowing hard and making that first breach. "I might have a job," she admitted, swinging their joined hands back and forth. The statement lacked excitement. He heard the unspoken 'but' in her answer after the words were acknowledged and they were off on their walk, a tension building in the quiet of the night rather than a comfort. The fact that there was so much happening all at once didn't help his mind choose a direction to prepare himself for. When she finally admitted what was behind it, he was confused by how she said it. There were any number of jobs she could have found that wouldn't fill her with excitement, it wasn't that, but how she'd needed to tell him away from her parents home. "That's- a good thing isn't it?" he asked, trying to understand if the hesitancy was nerves about another job falling through, or dread that it would be something more taxing on her mentally than the restaurant had been. "Maybe?" she answered, sucking in her lip and looking up at him hesitantly. It felt shitty to be so cryptic, and she just wanted to say it, summon up all that bluntness that usually shrouded her words. "Let's --," she pointed to the park bench just a few metres away. "Want to sit?" When did anything not tragic follow the implied suggestion that it would be better for someone to sit? Were he a better actor perhaps he would have tried to shrug it off like those words alone meant nothing to him, but he'd heard them enough over the years that it simply wasn't possible. He didn't respond to the question, but rather continued walking with her to that bench, arguing with himself that his initial thoughts didn't add up with the situation. The physical heat from his worry spread into his hand that still held hers as he sat, giving it a squeeze that he was okay for her to continue with whatever it was she was about to douse him with. "I'm probably making this worse than it is." Not that long ago she had been rather confidently holding her own in a battle of flirtation with a madam. But it was that -- him not knowing, that got to her more than any other part. That and the (small and unlikely, she knew, but still minuscule possibility) for shame. Anybody else and she could shrug it off, but she was his wife, if he -- Oh, fuck it. "There's a new brothel just opened in Knockturn." There. Bluntness. It wasn't so hard, after all. He attempted a reassuring half smile at her assessment, really just wanting her to get it over with before he sweat himself into a puddle under the bench. It wasn't fair to rush her, though, so he pushed through until she definitely succeeded in dousing him. Of all of the things his mind had raced through that night, a brothel had not been one. He'd seen the ad. He'd known it was more than it claimed to be. But a brothel in Knockturn - he would have lost that bet. "All right," he stated rather stupidly, his mind trying to process all of the unexpected thoughts rushing in at once. She may have felt that it was self explanatory, but it didn't tell him anything more than that this place existed and that had been where she was. Also that no one seemed to have been dead. "so you were speaking to them about a job. How'd that come up?" Dora snorted. "I replied to some ad she had up. Unknowingly." That part was amusing, at least. "Took model for what it said it was and then politely declined when she explained more." She looked up at him with a bittersweet kind of expression, hoping they could both find the humour in that. "But then -- well, there was the restaurant job gone, and all the other rejections. And I know it's only been a couple of weeks, but. Even the nice ones, like that bloke. A hassle, he called me. And these fucking restrictions. Remus, it's --" Then there was that other stab that cut in, the thought of Pettigrew, and she wished desperately she could tell him. It gutted her to hide it. "It's bad. And getting worse. What use am I to them if I'm struggling and kipping on sofas? What use am I to us if I'm not able to find something I want and tripping over my arse in something I don't? They've pushed you further out, forcing you back here to work. I don't know, I just. I couldn't get it out of my head these past few days. It's lucrative and flexible and fast. We could get back on our feet and actually have the energy to fight this thing." For all the anger that fuelled her words, the righteous upset, she couldn't quite meet his gaze. Bless her. Remus couldn't help the fond smile at his wife's credulous mistake, wanting to wrap her up and kiss her right then for being such a light to his dark and wary self. But then she continued with 'but then' and most of the questions he'd had before were answered. He didn't interrupt her as she went through her thought process and the events that led to this, sounding very much like she'd been holding onto something for ages and just needed it out. He knew better than most just how bad these things could get. He'd spent more than three decades suffocated by all he couldn't do due to what he was. He understood the hurt and frustration. He understood the shame and desperation. What he couldn't properly understand was the fall since he'd never fallen. This was his lot from the beginning. It wasn't hers. In that regard, he didn't lose anything in coming back, but she did. They nearly all did. He hated that she was experiencing it first hand now as well, being held back by something she couldn't control. She was stronger than he was, though. His Dora chose to fight for herself when even at his lowest all he could ever manage was to fight for others. He kept her hand in his, not wanting to give her the option of toppling over in her emotions without him, especially since she wouldn't look at him. "It's also dangerous, cariad. Dangerous in ways neither your training nor the war can prepare you for. I don't know what she told you to expect - hopefully she was upfront about that part, that there's a risk for lucrative and flexible and fast. A quiet cost people don't want to talk about. If it is truly any of those things, then it's different from what I know; that risk still remains. It's vulnerable work. It sounds straight forward, but from what I've seen, it rarely is. It's - none of those sale pitches mean anything if you're hurt. You're not more useful to the cause if you're hurt. And maybe you wouldn't be. Maybe you've got just the right mind to keep it all from getting in. I'd still rather risk getting caught working on a muggle site if it means not chancing you getting hurt like that." There were parts in there that demanded a response, one that she was sure she could find rattling about in her head, selected from all the many things she had been thinking over and over until they'd been worn thin. But it was what he didn't say that hit her first, free of hurt and offering calm, gentle honesty, firm and realistic. His hand, still there. She looked up at him briefly, some mixture of deep relief and gratefulness playing out across her face, before pulling him into a hug. "Fuck, I'm such an idiot, I should have just told you." The words came out breathy and light, and she felt it, really, having got the difficult part off her chest.(edited) He was relieved when she looked up at him, no matter how brief, only to have her pull him into her. He went easily, his own want for the contact possibly able to rival hers in that moment. "I wish you had, but I may be a tad biased here." "I'm sorry." Dora squeezed him tightly, closing her eyes and letting the calm flood her head. "I needed some time to think, and I thought waiting til I sussed it out for myself would be best, but --," she sighed, slipping back out of the hug, but taking both his hands. "We'll get to that bit. You were saying --" She gave a little wave of her hand, eyes fluttering closed and a small frown creasing and then easing out as she tried to take herself back to his earlier words. "She has really strict confidentiality and security. I grilled her, of course I did. I know that's not what you mean though, but." She sighed. "I wouldn't be advertised as a meta, I made that clear. Not that I wouldn't use it, but under other guises. Nobody would get to know except staff, and they're all signed up to keep quiet, and regulars I trust. And I wouldn't ever be me." As for the rest, there was no simple answer to that, but there was one she had settled on. She reached a hand up to his chin, and stroked down his jaw. "Do you trust that I've given all of that a lot of thought, and that I trust and listen to myself?" His brows furrowed at the mention of her meta. It made sense, of course it did, and in some ways that was safer. Being someone else could help her keep herself guarded, but on the other hand, she would be using her gift in a way that he knew made her uncomfortable. That was hard to let settle, especially when she removed a hand from his. She brought it to his chin, and Remus closed his eyes for a moment before responding, "I trust you. And I trust that you've thought it through as much as you can with all you know and could find out. I trust that you'll make the best decisions you can ; you'll be as safe as you can be. I don't trust she's been transparent or will be. That there isn't a long list of implied fine print she won't show you. I don't trust she'll choose your wellbeing over business; she won't pressure you into moving your boundary line - especially in regards to your meta. I don't know how to trust any of that, aside from trusting you won't let her - it's a lot, cariad." At that she couldn't help but snort. "Oh, she was very frank in the interview. Daphne Greengrass? Looked the right age to have been a student of yours." At her name dropping a former student he couldn't help the exaggerated face as she attacked his memory of the big-eyed innocent little 13yo trying to fight a lethifold-shaped boggart with flamboyancy. The theatrics ending in a pout and a whine, "I've no doubt she was as frank as she felt she needed to be." "No, she was frank, Remus. And so was I," she visibly grimaced, remembering the mess they had gotten themselves into over some poorly chosen words and convoluted attitudes. "I know she's looking out for her business above all else, which is why I nearly didn't make it through without her turning me away. Which, in and of itself is something, because this--," she gestured to her face, "is... well. You know. She wasn't interested in pushing those boundaries, said it was my loss but couldn't care otherwise. And I'm so bloody late because I sat reading through all the fine print before I left. It checks. I don't like her, but I think she's got her shite well in order." Remus nodded in response to her confidence about that. He hadn't been there. If she said she'd gone over all of that and was satisfied that the responses were honest, then that was all there was to it. His concerns on that front were voiced, they didn't need to be beaten, so he moved on, "What concerns do you have about it?" "You," she replied simply, her mouth twitching up in a bit of a sad smile. "You're being very sweet and calm. But how do you really feel about the idea of me having sex with other people?" It was his turn to wince, but not until her very blunt choice of wording. "Specifically? I mean, I don't like it. If there's another option I'd rather it. No point dancing around that. I do know it's not the same, though - and I hope you know it's not the same. I hate that this is even a choice you're being faced with. I hate that it's a choice anyone is faced with who wouldn't choose to do it otherwise. A good part of me can't help but feel like I'm failing you if this is on the table when it wouldn't have been before. I already said that I'd much rather risk getting caught working on a muggle site than change you getting hurt like that. I meant it, Dora. I would do it in a heartbeat to lift the pressure off of you. And I know you have things to say about that, just let me finish trying to answer your question first because it's not- I do get it." Remus took a small moment to take a breath and stop the rambling monologue from his perpetual bleeding heart being pulled in too many directions at once before he continued more on track. "How I will feel about any of it mostly depends on how you feel about it. How you feel about the idea of you having sex with other people, as you put it. How you feel about what options are available to you. How you are looking at it. Is it the best means to an end, or is it your only option? What your boundaries are. What your plan is for how long and how often you would do it. What you expect from me. What you would expect from me if all of this were reversed. There's a lot to consider- it's a lot." Her hands found his as he spoke, and she played with them mindlessly as she listened. Turning them over slowly in her palms, running her thumb along the hollow of his, up to calloused fingertips, then turning the other way, making large circles around his knuckles. She was listening, would look up periodically and nod, and the small shifts in her breathing told him that too, but there was a need to expend some small anxious energy, to touch him too, whether it was a comfort or distraction. "I say it that way because that's a very fundamental fact of it, when the rest is stripped out. I know it's different, of course it is. But that's what it entails, at least on a very basic physical level." She shifted in how she was sitting, turning sideways to him and pulling one leg under her. "I don't want you risking arrest. That's more dangerous, especially considering your condition. Think about how they'd twist that, no matter how tolerant they claim to be now. And I couldnt --," she gulped, squeezing his hands. "Besides, I did go into this expecting to be the one making money." Dora let out a soft breath of a laugh, thinking back to his old repertoire of excuses. When she looked up at him again her gaze was gentle, the little smile on her lips fond. "And, Remus, it is a choice. You know that, don't you? Yes, our options feel stupidly limited, probably mainly living off our mates for now judging by all those rejection letters. Which we could do, really, if you couldn't manage this. But I've thought about it, I have. And as much as I love them and would be endlessly appreciative and kick your guilty arse into gear about it... it's just continuing the trend isn't it? Putting our proper life on hold longer. I'm tired of sitting around feeling angry. I'd choose this as a way out of that. I don't want you to think of me sad and pressured and inflicting some sort of penance on myself." Another smile, this one followed by a little laugh. "Alright maybe the first two, but only right now. And I'm imagining sorting the money issue might alleviate some of that, yeah?" She picked up playing with his hands again as she spoke, drawing lines down each of his fingers and then slotting her own through his. "As for the rest of it... it's just sex. You know? I mean --," she gave a little shrug as she paused. "It's different if it's you and me. Like it's different if it's me pretending to be some other girl with a bloke I know is paying for a service. But at the end of the day it's a physical thing. Probably a lot better at giving handies than I am balancing trays." She snorted, and looked up at him in the hope he'd find that humour too. "And like I told Daphne, I've already done this job except for that physical part. Gave her a proper show of my Ministry-approved honeypot skills." Dora let the humour slide back a bit as she moved on to the details, but kept that sense of lightness with her, letting it help her remain unfazed by the strangeness of what they were discussing. "I was thinking a weekend night and two weekday nights. Have to be there for a minimum of four hours a shift, though she thinks I'll be plenty booked considering I can be 10 girls at once. Boundaries, I've negotiated all the ones I need with her. So that leaves us -- if there are things we decide to keep just between us, if you're really worried about how I'm doing we can make a bit of time to check in. I don't know what I expect really, but you're... you," she said, with a terribly adoring smile, as she freed one of her hands to push some of his hair back. "This is a good start, isn't it? Just staying open. Honest." She was joking quite a bit more now and he couldn't quite make out if it were for his benefit or her own, though he would have been more willing to place a bet on the latter. He wasn't exactly up for it himself, his mind trying to process everything she'd had days to sort on her own, but then she set one up he couldn't have avoided if he'd tried. "I'm sorry, I got stuck at four hours and I'm chafed just thinking about it." In truth, he'd paid attention to how she'd seemed to answer each of his questions aside from the last one, he had responses to most of them, but they remained in his head for the sake of a terrible friction joke. Unless her stating that he was him was somehow a response to that instead of the question before. He'd let her play with his hands, selfishly taking every bit of comfort she was willing to pour into him, while barely resisting bringing her into his lap so he could hold her. "What would you like from me then, if you don't know what you expect yet? Open and honest is definitely a good start, but is there anything else I can do?" The laugh that followed his joke was far louder and brighter than his otherwise sombre tone might have expected, and she had a response to his asking the question again immediately lined up. "Cooling charms on cushions for me to sit on once I get home." Her hands stilled finally, content to just hold his for a moment. "Can I ask something? How would you feel if I enjoyed it? Not... the job as a whole, I'm aiming for a not hating it and feeling generally okay doing it, in that ballpark. But say somebody comes in and I have really good sex and I enjoy it. Does that change how you'd answer that question from before?" His eyebrows knit together, but perhaps not for the reason she herself was concerned about, "it's supposed to feel good, Dora. I'm not-- I want you to come home, and come home safe. I want you to keep coming home. It feeling good shouldn't change that. I'd like to think I have a bit more to lure you back with than a good shag. Chocolate, for starts." "Okay," Dora replied, with another soft look for him. Of all the possibilities, she hadn't anticipated such tenderness. Perhaps that was her worry getting in the way, blocking out rationality. "You don't have to worry about that part. You committed yourself to the ultimate no take backs." A beat. "I suppose I... don't want you to pile guilt on yourself for feeling any kind of way about it. I think it's rather reasonable if you did. All I want is for you to say it. Don't keep it up here." At that she reached to tap his temple lightly. "I think that's unavoidable, but it's because of me, not you." he told her, moving his free hand up to push her hand against the side of his face before turning a bit to kiss her palm, "I was already feeling rubbish for having to bloody quit good paying work, especially after I'd just finished telling you we'd be all right since I had it. I was already feeling guilt for living rent free off Harry. For every time I hear your mum slip a bit extra in your pockets. I should be able to do better, to be better, but this world is only disguised as different. I can't do better and that guts me, Dora. It always has. So yeah, I'm going to feel guilty, but it was already there." "Love, you're feeling guilty for things that aren't your fault. None of that is under your control." She frowned, her lips twisting about. "You don't need to do better at anything. You're a great dad, and I'd be off my bloody rocker without you to help with all of this. And that's after all that time when it was just you. It's a lot to go through." A little sigh. "I think we both need to work on being a little kinder with ourselves about it, yeah?" "'Don't be a bloody hypocrite, Remus.' I know, cariad, I hear you. Some things are harder to kick than others, but I am trying to be. I just- knowing there's wine in the house to wallow with is probably not the best thing right now, but, alternatively, it does line me up with a few small victories." it had been an attempt at making light of his current stress load, but the crushing disappointment and reality check had only been a couple days before. And with Teddy in the same space to focus on, and their nonexistent privacy, he hadn't really allowed himself to exist in those feelings yet in order to get to the other side of them. "I'll get there. We'll get there." "We will," she agreed, slipping her hand down from his cheek and placing a kiss where it was. "I suppose what I was getting at anyway was jealousy. That it isn't some terrible thing to feel, if you did. I know we both know it's different, but. Emotions don't always listen to that." She kissed his cheek, but he found himself needing more than that and so he properly kissed her, his limbs aching with wanting to pull her in and not let go. "Considering I'm jealous of the air getting to touch you more than I do, I can't imagine that's much avoidable either, especially- I'm already a possessive git around the full. You wouldn't believe the number of fights with the air I haven't told you about. Mostly because I lost." Tonks hummed against his lips, not quite expecting the interruption in that moment, but not complaining about it either. The words that followed prompted her to snort loudly and raise her eyebrows to the heavens. "You are absolutely fucking ridiculous." If he could capture that expression in a picture and keep it close to his chest, he would. There were few things more perfect to him than her laughing because of him. "And you are absolutely fucking worth it." "Shut up." She gave his arm a playful smack with the back of her hand. "There's one other bit to mention." And since that was also just asking for it, "hit me." A little quirk of appreciation, but she stayed on track. "She wants me to fuck somebody who isn't you before she takes me on. Says she can offer another employee's time on the house." The hard edge that crept into her voice suggested she felt it was unnecessary, but it was rattled off remarkably calmly all the same. She didn't like the idea, didn't see any point in it beyond security for Daphne, but then it was her business, whatever dodgy requests she decided to make with it. And then it was as if all of the air had been sucked up, his body going still as he forgot the necessity of breath. Surely she had to know that was different. She had to know that demand sounded far more like a window into shady things to come rather than a ribbon at the finish line. What next? Yet, she was asking it of him anyway. He could hear that she wasn't exactly thrilled about it, which only fueled his need to protect her, but she had told him that she had thought it all through and decided it was worth it. She'd already accepted this before this walk. There was a casting couch between her and her goal and she was asking him to be okay with it. He couldn't answer her at first, his mind a string of sirens and alarms going off. Eventually he did manage it, but his voice had dropped into a darker shade of calm, not directed at her, but it was there in his words nonetheless. "And what of your time, cariad? Is she able to offer that up on the house to test someone else? Fuck-- just. That's dark." "It's comped, they'll be getting paid. And she said she didn't care if it was somebody else, a stranger or whatever. I just preferred the idea of keeping it in house," she corrected. "Look, I want to tell her to get fucked too. But like you said, she's looking out for her business. It's... whatever. It's fine." "Is it?" "Yeah. She made me seduce her to prove that I could. Now she wants assurance on the other part." She shrugged, looking fed up but resigned. "I'll do it, I just want to make sure you're okay with it." That did absolutely nothing to convince him that she actually thought it was fine, but it was still on the table so he tried to focus on things she had said earlier. The things that had made it sound as if she had power in this. "Do you feel safe?" "Safer than I did as an auror." It wasn't a whole answer, but then she had never had much measure on safety in her life. From the rules around her childhood to swimming solely in the deep end from her late teens onward, gauging 'safe' was a tricky one. "I'm satisfied with all her safety measures, for one. Like I said, I think she's a dick, but her employees being unsafe isn't good for her. Symbiotic type whatshit." Remus didn't look in anway happy about anything, but he nodded at that, because ultimately, that was what mattered most. It didn't change anything between them. And at least with another employee there was implied safety in both ways he was concerned about, that didn't exist with the other options. He didn't have words to follow the nod, and instead lifted her hand to his lips again, half waiting for her to add yet something else. Dora stayed in the silence of the moment, watching him for a handful of seconds. "This is alright, isn't it?" There wasn't anything terribly necessary about the question. At each bit his only concern was her, but that didn't always bode well for them, she knew from past experience. Where her other questions picked at single threads, specific parts, this last one was more general, softer, not quite abou the job in and of itself. It was an everything sort of question. "I haven't marched off to Knockturn and given her detention, so, it will be" it wasn't a great answer, but he was fighting with thoughts and feelings that were wholly outside of them. "I trust you with my heart, Dora. I trust you with you." A small smile, one of those bittersweet ones she reserved just for private moments like this. Good things in shit circumstances, wasn't that always the case with them? A small lean in and then her lips were meeting his again, pressing deeper, seeking out more than they had before. He wasn't about to break this kiss up with a joke, his limbs overpowering his calm stillness to where he was grabbing for her to hold. He'd gotten worse about it since losing her, having played the widower for three long months. It was hard not to treat each touch as if it were the most blessed thing he was fortunate enough to get to experience. A park bench probably wasn't the best place he get clingy, but it was necessary after a conversation like that. It was late, and she was exhausted, and relieved, and could feel the heaviness in her muscles, her head. Returning the kiss felt like her whole body sighing out that stress, sinking in to him. She swung a leg over so she was straddling him, had some vague thought about acting like a horny teenager, and then just kissed him harder. Remus voiced his appreciation into her mouth when she gave him what he'd wanted and climbed onto his lap, one hand pressing firmly down her back to gather her as close to him as was possible on the bench. His other hand went to support the back of her neck as he leaned her backward a bit, his thumb slowly caressing the corner of her jaw in contrast to the intensity of the kiss. And god, merlin, whoever, she wanted to grind down on him and just give in, after the few awkward days huddled on her parents' sofa and all that stress and silent overthinking. But this was a park bench, not far from the swing set Teddy liked to launch himself up to the sky on, and she forced herself to pull back with a groan. "One of Mum's neighbours is gonna see us." He was on the verge of saying somethiing incredibly stupid like 'fuck the neighbours', but he caught himself and cleared his throat instead. He wanted that closeness with her more than anything else, though the opportunistic part of his brain definitely did a quick scan of the area to figure out if there was a secluded tree to push her up against. "sorry," eventually fell from his lips. He wasn't sorry, he didn't sound the least bit sorry. Another amused snort, and she leant in for a last quick kiss, unable to help herself. "No you aren't." Reluctantly, she pried herself away from him and up. "C'mon," she said, taking his head and giving a little nod towards the direction of the house. "As much as I want to." He knew that was coming, yet it was met with a protesting groan anyway. Still, he got up, it was with a huff, but he got up and squeezed her hand to accept their fate for the night. "Careful, cariad, or you'll encourage me to get creative." Dora replied with a tired little smirk. Any other time she would have pushed further – and there was that thrum of temptation still - but she contented herself with wrapping his arm around her shoulders as they set to walk back. Stopping, just for a moment on the edge of the pavement, she looked up at him thoughtfully, her gaze gentle and sweet. "Thank you." |