The finger-like glares of sunlight, shone through the gaps in the curtains and laid themselves upon the silk sheets that encased the h/c haired woman. The woman seemed to be asleep, but she wasn’t. Though to many it would seem that she was in a deep slumber, she wasn’t. Y/N was wide awake, her red rimmed eyes boring into the wall opposite her. She wasn’t staring at anything in particular, but her eyes did not move. Not even when the door to the bedroom opened quietly, releasing a small creak. She stayed stationary in the same spot that she had been in for the last few days, only moving once or twice for the toilet.
Her dark brown haired boyfriend leant against the doorway, his piercing blue eyes dancing over the immobile woman.
Damon Salvatore wasn’t usually one for showing his feelings, and he had his many reasons for not doing so. But there was something about Y/N that made him want to express everything, his high moments, his low moments, everything. Even his brother had noticed the change in Damon, he was no longer the heartless vampire he had been prior to meeting her. He cared.
He and Y/N had become like the couple that everyone wanted. They had their cute moments, their funny moments, their absolutely cliché moments. But that didn’t bother Damon. He loved it, almost as much as he loved her. Seeing her in this self induced state only made him want to pull her into his arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay, but he knew it wouldn’t work. He knew that she wouldn’t accept his claims. He had already tried it. When she had come back to the Salvatore Boarding house, tears leaking from her e/c orbs.
Y/N wasn’t the kind of person to take a hug and a kiss and suddenly think that everything was going to get better. Damon knew this. But still, he hadn’t expected her to go on shut down, staying in their room buried in the blankets. But then again, he hadn’t expected her mother to pass away so quickly. Y/N’s mother had deteriorated quickly, even though she had been given at least a few months to live. Y/N had been visiting her mother often, and Damon was usually the one to go with her to visit her mother. But it seemed to be that on the one day he didn’t visit with her, everything fell apart. Although it sounded stupid, he partially blamed himself for what had happened. Not that he could have changed it in any way, it was purely natural.
Y/N didn’t move. Not even when Damon progressed forwards and sat on the edge of the bed, just behind her legs. He paused for a moment, before running his hand over his face, and sighing quietly to himself. To say he was worried about Y/N was an understatement. He knew that she was practically stopping herself from living, and he didn’t know how far she would go. She was already becoming unsociable.
He reached back and laid his hand on the bed, leaning around and laying down next to her, on his back. He paused for a moment before rolling onto his side, and carefully wrapping his arms around the smaller woman, pulling her gently against his chest. Even though she wasn’t facing him, he could tell that she was somewhat enjoying the closeness. Partly from the sound of her less shallow breathing and partly due to the sound of her heartbeat, which had picked up as he had moved closer.
He closed his eyes and rested his head in the crook of her neck, breathing deeply, and inhaling her scent. Her scent hadn’t changed, which was a relief to Damon, as it was comforting to him. She almost subconsciously leaned into his touch. It seemed like hours, but it had only been minutes, as Y/N rolled slowly onto her side, so she was facing Damon. Her eyes moved up to lock with the same blue eyes that she had grown to love, her hand raising to his face. She gently skimmed her fingertips along the side of his jaw, he watched her. As if mesmerized by her movements, savouring the small tingles that appeared in the place where her fingers had touched.
His eyes scanned her features, the red lines along the edges of her eyes where she had cried endlessly. Her newly pale complexion, which almost made her look like she had been outside in the harsh, cold air, even though she hadn’t left the confines of Damon’s room.
He could feel her gentle puffs of breath against his lips, as she continued her quiet breathing. She didn’t need to say anything for him to know that she was thankful for his presence, just the look in her eyes and the careful yet steady beating of her heart.
“You know I’m always here for you, right?” she paused, taking a slightly longer breath and glanced away from his eyes, before producing a brief nod.
“I know.” it was the first time he had heard Y/N’s voice since she had returned to the boarding house. It was a joy to hear her voice again, almost as if reassuring him that there was still a chance for her to end the prolonged antisocial behaviour. Damon didn’t mind her mourning, he just didn’t want her to mourn in the way where she was depriving herself of being social and being healthy. He didn’t want her to injure herself or her health without realising it. His fingers traced up to her face as he softly caressed her slightly pale cheeks, his thumb graxing back and forth. She rested her head on his chest as he leant down and pressed a kiss to her forehead, running his free hand through her hair and untangling the ends with his fingers.
It was at this point that Damon knew things were going to get better. Obviously it would take time, but he knew she would be okay. That they would be okay.
It’s probably the third night in a row that Rin has rung up the same selection of imported energy drink, instant ramen, and an apple for the guy when Rin finally cracks.
“Are you trying to kill yourself slowly or what?” he snaps, ringing up the items with more ferocity than necessary. He’s always had a bit of a temper. The guy jerks back, startled. He’s cute, tall and broad shouldered, with brown hair that’s been getting shaggier over the weeks he’s been coming into the corner store Rin works at. His eyes are wide behind black-rimmed glasses, and maybe green? He’s never once made eye contact before this, so Rin’s not sure.
“I- I don’t understand?” he says, voice lilting up like a question.
“This stuff is ridiculously unhealthy,” Rin says.
“I got an apple, though,” the guy points out, as if that negates the salt, sugar, and who knows what else crammed into his other purchases.
“My replacement gets in at ten. We’re going to get real food,” Rin says.
The guy smiles momentarily before declining. “I have to study.” He sounds genuinely disappointed.
Rin shrugs. “So do I. We’ll get something and study while we eat it. You go to Keio?”
“Your shirt,” Rin points, before the guy runs off thinking he’s some kind of stalker. “Me too.”
“Oh,” he sighs. “I’m Tachibana Makoto.”
“Matsuoka Rin,” Rin grins. “Here. You can have the apple.” He tosses it to him. “I’m confiscating the junk, though.”
Makoto grins back. “Okay.” He spends the next forty minutes either leaning on Rin’s counter or half-heartedly browsing the store before Mikoshiba finally gets in. They leave together, and as Makoto smiles before asking which way they’re headed, Rin reflects that maybe his temper isn’t always a liability.
Remus, already showered and changed to his pyjamas, asks, “Sirius,
why do you keep a Sabrina under your bed?”
The pink-and-green magazine colours scream at his eyes, a
teenage witch smiling up at him from under a wide-rimmed pointy hat. The title,
how to kiss wizards well in 10 crucial
steps bounces up and down in the left corner, and even amidst the other
topics, he cannot fathom Remus hasn’t figured it out yet. He’s not even sure if
good old Auntie Hilda’s advice helped in any way because he hasn’t even had a
chance to try it.
“I stole it off Bellatrix,” Sirius says, the first thing off
his tongue. “Just to piss her off, you know.”
Remus is quiet too long, and Sirius can feel himself start
to redden—that, is when James looks up too from his quidditch mag and Peter
Remus looks sceptic, and Sirius knows that it is because it
dates back a year and a half. He hasn’t kept it that long, of course—just stumbled
across it a few months ago, right before the Halloween ball, when it was left
in the common room.
That one bouncy topic had caught his attention, though.
“Do you really care this much about snogging someone?” Remus
Sirius doesn’t even have time to feel shit about it before
James loudly groans, “For fuck’s sake, Sirius, again?”
“I can’t help it,” he mutters as he sits down on his bed. “It’s
an issue, alright, just that you lads
don’t know what it’s like doesn’t mean you can piss on me, alright?”
“But you care so much,” Remus says, “and you don’t have to.”
Sirius rolls his eyes. “Okay, yes, we’ve had this chat
before, and even bloody Peter’s
snogged someone before me—sorry Pete—and now I’m eighteen and I still haven’t.”
James just stares at him, and he doesn’t look like he cares
at all but Sirius finds it hard to ignore when he cares. Remus’ look’s a little different, and Sirius is not sure
if it’s a matter of different opinions, or different experiences.
“Why shouldn’t I?” Sirius finally gives in. He’s taken the but why approach before, he’s taken the I want to approach and the more-than-slightly bitter but you have so you have no say in this.
“Tell me, mister I snogged the prettiest
girl of Hogwarts age fifteen.”
Remus colours a little, but he isn’t too perturbed to
answer. “First off, I don’t put as much value into a kiss and I never have, because my family aren’t dickheads
who think I should marry before I’m twenty—“ and, ignoring James’ choking
noise, “and secondly, as I have kissed people I can honestly tell you, Sirius,
it wasn’t that big of a deal at all.”
James now laughs out loud. “Remus, you kissing people kind
of is a big deal, you had Laura
swooning over you like mad for three months after?”
Sirius knew about that, and he and James had laughed about
it before, but Remus seems more shocked by that than by anything else any of
them have said in—quite a while, honestly.
Finally he just mutters, “What the fuck?”
“Werewolf pheromones,” Peter says loudly, trying to break
the awkward atmosphere in the room. “That’s my bet, anyway, since none of us
can tip that.”
Sirius can’t help it—the atmosphere in the room, the
awkwardness of the situation, laughter bubbles up as he repeats, “Tip.” He’s not entirely sure why it is funny, only that it is because it’s
somehow sex related, and Remus rolls his eyes while James snorts. The anxiety
is causing turmoil in his tummy, sharp and horrible and he wants it gone.
“I’m being serious here, Sirius,” Remus finally says when
Sirius has calmed down a little. “What’s so bad about not having kissed anybody
“Well,” Sirius says, trying to breathe through it all. “I
mean… What if I am bad at it? What if I’ll kiss someone and they run because
they think it’s like snogging a flobberworm?”
“Oh for Merlin’s sake, Sirius,” Remus whines. “James and
Peter, can you leave the room for a bit? I need to speak to Sirius in private.”
“Slap him ‘round his bollocks, you mean,” James mutters, but
he gets up and leaves, with Peter following close behind.
“What the fuck,” Sirius says, with Remus already off his own
bed and climbing onto Sirius’.
“Sirius,” Remus tells him, taking a deep breath, “I’ll kiss
you. All right?”
The painful tension in Sirius’ belly gives immediately, replaced
by a light flutter that is nowhere as harsh on his stomach. “What? Would you
really?” he asks. Remus is already leaning closer, his breath hot on Sirius’
“If it will make you let me sleep, then yes,” he mumbles,
before pressing his lips to Sirius’.
(He ends up making Remus moan, but Sirius is honestly not
sure if that is due to his snogging skills, or a good handful of Remus’ bum in
A cluster of cloaked heads shifts, skulls rising in unison from
a devout bow as Freddie hurriedly stumbles through them, a jeering Puritan sea
parting while the church expels them in hoards. The priest looming in the
doorway stares quietly after him, his long, black frock agitated by the wind,
stubby fingertips worrying over the cross at his chest. His mother reaches for
his neck but he’s gone, a skipping, flamboyant blur over the dusty roads, wide-rim
hat airborne to liberate a crop of raven hair, still clutching tightly to the
lapels of his jacket just as he had throughout the entire sermon. He nearly
twists his ankle as he scales a wooden fence, darting through swaying amber
stalks like a field mouse, his eyes fixated on a dilapidating barn in the
The doors moan in protest as he fights his way in, tickled
suddenly by a fluttering over his heart, whispering into the collar of his
jacket to quell whatever he’s been concealing all morning. The barn’s been uninhabited
since the fire, haphazardly boarded up but not thoroughly enough, still
standing for now, a commandeered palace the boys’ claimed after spending an
entire afternoon oiling the corroded hinges of its only door. It’s still a
secret, no one else save for him and Jim daring enough to venture through the
labyrinth of overgrown wheat, an ideal haven for serpents and a menagerie of
other untamable beasts. Light gushes from a small window towards the ceiling,
illuminating him with a lazy orange beam, striking against his anxious stare as
he peers around.
“Jim, are you in here?” Freddie calls, his voice light and
posh, still boyish for eighteen, his face too young as well, the apples of his
cheeks fatigued pink, panting as he closes the doors behind him, his lashes
bowing timidly as prominent rodent teeth bare into a smirk, “I’ve caught something,
dear, in the church attic… there were loads of them just hanging about in the dark…
like strange birds… come see.”