Letting Worlds Collide “You trust him, right?” Braxton hadn’t really wanted to interrupt the silence, tense as it was, because he didn’t think he had any words that could alleviate any of it. But when Sally’s head slid onto his shoulder, her grip on his hand tightening, he couldn’t help but say something. It certainly wasn’t helpful, but he didn’t have anything else.
Sally glanced at him, the first time her gaze had been lifted from the fireplace and adjacent grandfather clock in some time, grey-brown eyes heavy with worry. “Gideon,” Braxton added. “You trust him, don’t you?”
With a deep breath, Sally permitted herself a long blink while she thought about it. The silence was temporary, cut into pieces by the ticking clock. “Yes,” she answered at last. “He trusted me with his secret, so I trust him in return.” She was well aware that she had trouble with trusting people, men in particular, given her background, and opening up was very, very difficult for her. Sometimes it took her a long time to remember that she was only human and was equally entitled to her emotions as others, but recognizing emotions made her feel vulnerable and insecure. It could still be a struggle to discuss them. But she tried--Merlin, did she try--and with Gideon, she had managed to succeed. He was open first, entrusting a vital, detrimental secret to a recently-made friend. Something about that confidence had been contagious, and so she had invited him over for Christmas Eve “friendsmas”, as the first outsider to meet Braxton.
To settle things definitively, she had planned for him to arrive at 4:00, with the other invitees (Marcus’s betrothed Melanie and Sally’s best friend Nora, both of whom had met Braxton prior to today) set for 5:00. But it was 4:14 now, and Gideon had yet to arrive. What if he had changed his mind and the idea of a society girl like Sally having a secret Muggle boyfriend was too much for him and now he was going to spread the information, or at the very least, withdraw from their friendship? Sally had not known Gideon long, but he was already such a strong presence in her life that she hated to imagine what it would be like without him.
“Then he’ll be here,” Braxton said, his free hand gently and briefly stroking Sally’s hair. “You’ve got good instincts about people, Sal. If you think he’s a good guy, I’m sure he’ll prove himself. He’s probably just running la-”
He was interrupted by a crackling and swirling fireplace, and Sally sprung to her feet, brushing down her skirt with Braxton not far behind her, giving a quick toss of his shaggy hair. Out of the green flames stepped a man Braxton had never seen before but heard so much about, although he had not realized quite how young Gideon would be. He was practically a kid.
“Sorry I’m late.” Gideon pushed up his glasses with his forearm, his hands occupied by bags of presents, which he held up nervously. “Where should I put these? I, uh, brought stuff for everyone.”
Sally smiled. “Oh, um, under the tree is good.” She gestured to the large fixture just across the room. It was seven feet tall, four feet around, and purple, which was strange, but she supposed that was what she got for letting Marcus pick it out. She had rather expected a real tree, but this fake one was definitely more easily managed, to say the least. “There are some other things down there. You can place yours in their proximity. And,” she added with more Christmas delight than she had ever felt before, “welcome.” Introductions were made--casual, but so very important--and while both Braxton and Gideon seemed fairly uncomfortable with one another, Sally felt an odd hope that by the end of the evening, maybe everything would be alright.