Alixandr Savage should be mental by now. (savagelaw) wrote in wished,
Things had gotten so complicated in his life. Alix didn’t often talk much about the love that he’d lost anymore, but he found himself speaking about it that day. He couldn’t help but hope that there was some way that she was still out there. Even if she wasn’t with him...he hoped that she was happy somewhere. As much as it hurt him to think about the possibility that she was with someone else, he just wished he knew she was alive. To take his mind off of it, he had gone into the WWW in hopes of getting some inspiration for one of his cases.
Defending George and Fred Weasley wasn’t easy, but it was a lot more fun than being an Auror. It took his mind off of the death that he saw in the war. He’d been changed irrevocably by what he saw, but his determination to still live his life as fully and happily as he could had kept him sane. He didn’t leave the store with anything other than a few ideas. But that seemed to be rather fortunate, because only a few moments after he exited the store, someone ran directly into him. It wasn’t enough to put him completely off balance, but enough to shock him.
Before he could really react, she was apologizing and already picking up the things that she’d dropped. The voice was something like a blast from the past, but as he looked down at her...the hair was different, and he couldn’t really see her face, “It’s fine,” he said, almost sounding a bit far away, his Scottish accent heavy.
With a deft swish of his wand, the cracked inkwell was repaired, and whatever ink was salvageable was contained. He couldn’t help but notice that it was the same ink Trish used to use, “I wasn’t paying attention either. No harm done, except perhaps to your ink...lovely lavender, isn’t it?” he said as he crouched down there beside her, trying to help her gather up her materials. Admitting to knowing the name of the ink was hardly something most men would fess up to, but he’d teased Trish about it years ago. He refused to let himself hope that this was Trish. He’d already seen two look-a-likes this week. He wasn’t quite sure he could handle a third...even if they did use the same ink. His heart constricted...he missed her so damn much.