[He knits his brow, slowly propping himself up with one hand so that he's seated as she shifts, oddly graceful despite the potential awkwardness of how they've found themselves arranged.]
I imagine that's very true. We've not known one another long.
[They've learned some things about one another, certainly, many of which are the sorts of things you can only learn by being in close quarters as much as they've been, but a handful of weeks was hardly enough time to even scratch the surface with most people, let alone those who had lived as long as either of them had.]
I could say the very same to you.
[He doesn't share much of himself with anyone, these days. He had opened up to her in part, but there was far more she didn't know.]
I assumed you came to the city for a reason. To find something, or leave something else behind.
[Two centuries earlier, as a human who very much had put a great premium on his pride, he might have been slightly injured by that response, understandable though it may be— but instead, he lets out a soft noise of assent, averting his gaze as he notes her fidgeting.]
I may know a little something about that.
[That's largely been his experience, as well. This, whatever it was, was an exception— and even then, it had taken a moment of weakness and inability to resist temptation to admit to it.]
[His gaze drifts back to her, one brow lifting curiously as he otherwise strives to remain as neutral as he can manage— challenging, considering what they'd been doing just a few moments earlier.]
Of course. I'm sure it's hardly as embarrassing as you might think.
I was eight-years old when I proposed to my future husband who was sixteen at the time. We lived in the same town and at some point our paths crossed and I got it into my head that he was my ideal partner. The obvious age-difference didn't really register.
[She suppresses a snort, fully aware how outrageous it sounds.]
His reaction was not... Well, no, he was put off and he took the correct course of action and turned me down. I, being a child, and a confident witch child at that, was left with bruised pride and self-righteous anger.
[He chuckles softly, one corner of his mouth twitching into a faint smile. He remembers all too well what it was like to be a precocious child bearing the gift of magic, and it's hardly a stretch for him to imagine Amelia in such a state, angry in the way only a child could be.]
Revenge, you say. Naturally, you've piqued my interest.
I'm glad I made you laugh. That was my goal all along.
[Regardless, she continues.]
It took six more years and a lot of growing up in between before we reached that point. We both needed it.
[Amelia's smile becomes soft as she turns her gaze away from Gale. The faraway look in her eyes emerges again like how she would look at the moon from her rooftop.]
Right when I thought there was nothing to salvage between us, he proposed to me.
[She scoffs though there's no negativity behind it.]
[Another chuckle, followed by a shake of his head.]
After all that, he couldn't even let you have your moment?
[There's not an ounce of criticism in his voice; the attempt to tease is softened by sentimentality. For better or worse, he's always been something of a romantic. It had not served him well in the past, unfortunately, but he'd never quite given it up, even after withdrawing from the world as he had.]
[Instead of an unbearable sting, she's left with mysterious relief. When was the last time she talked so much about Adam without feeling uncomfortable? And when was it she felt like she truly accepted his passing?]
I guess my point is kissing me out of almost nowhere is demonstrably much more pleasant than being rejected twice over a span of a decade. More importantly...
[She reaches over with one hand to gently cup his chin with her fingers.]
I don't think you'll leave me anytime soon, will you?
[For just a moment, he had almost regained himself entirely, almost felt normal, but as she takes hold of his chin, he feels his heart lodge itself in his throat, almost as though it were threatening to beat once more.
Oh.
He clears his throat softly, giving a minute shake of his head so as not to pull away from her gentle hold.]
No, no, I do believe you're right.
[He's not about to go anywhere.]
I made a promise, after all— that you would be safe with me.
[That pointed remark has him suddenly clearing his throat, his neck suddenly flushed with embarrassment as much as anything that had come before, but he quickly composes himself— he is far, far too old to be affected so profoundly by such a comment, he's certain.]
You need your rest, and I ought to reopen the shop.
[He gets to his feet before he can make any other impulsive decisions, the heady rush her blood had provided finally beginning to subside, and he smooths out the front of his shirt with both hands before straightening the way his coat hangs from his shoulders by tugging sharply at the lapels— anything to keep his hands busy.]
You have— everything you need to be comfortable?
[He's encouraged her to make herself at home well before now, but asking just seems like the right thing to do.]
[He lets out a bemused huff, raising a brow at her even as he angles himself towards the door.]
Those vampire romance novels give us a terrible name, I'm afraid. Not that it isn't deserved in some cases, but I would hardly advise anyone use Twilight as a reference for our behaviors.
[Which is to say no, he will not linger to watch her sleep, but her teasing does bring color to his pallid face once more.]
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I imagine that's very true. We've not known one another long.
[They've learned some things about one another, certainly, many of which are the sorts of things you can only learn by being in close quarters as much as they've been, but a handful of weeks was hardly enough time to even scratch the surface with most people, let alone those who had lived as long as either of them had.]
I could say the very same to you.
[He doesn't share much of himself with anyone, these days. He had opened up to her in part, but there was far more she didn't know.]
I assumed you came to the city for a reason. To find something, or leave something else behind.
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We'll have plenty of time to learn more, I guess.
[That is, if she lets him and if he does the same in return. After a few seconds of silence, the witch chooses her next words carefully.]
You've basically said that I've been on your mind, but if I were to be starkly honest, I don't know if that's the same for me.
[She almost winces as she says it; it sounds so bad but it feels accurate. Amelia fiddles with her fingers.]
I haven't really, well... You know, let anyone in on the other side so to speak.
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I may know a little something about that.
[That's largely been his experience, as well. This, whatever it was, was an exception— and even then, it had taken a moment of weakness and inability to resist temptation to admit to it.]
That said, I have no— expectations.
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Can I tell you something embarrassing?
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Of course. I'm sure it's hardly as embarrassing as you might think.
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[She suppresses a snort, fully aware how outrageous it sounds.]
His reaction was not... Well, no, he was put off and he took the correct course of action and turned me down. I, being a child, and a confident witch child at that, was left with bruised pride and self-righteous anger.
[A beat. She smiles.]
So I got my revenge. Wanna know how?
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Revenge, you say. Naturally, you've piqued my interest.
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[Amelia sure is painting a picture of herself...]
So I hit eighteen and I made sure he knew it and flaunted myself. I proposed once again
[And with a flat humorous tone:]
I got rejected. Again.
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I can hardly imagine why, with such a foolproof plan.
[There's surely just a trace of sarcasm in his voice, but it's accompanied by genuine sympathy.]
Clearly, it worked out for you eventually, given that you referred to him as your future husband.
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I'm glad I made you laugh. That was my goal all along.
[Regardless, she continues.]
It took six more years and a lot of growing up in between before we reached that point. We both needed it.
[Amelia's smile becomes soft as she turns her gaze away from Gale. The faraway look in her eyes emerges again like how she would look at the moon from her rooftop.]
Right when I thought there was nothing to salvage between us, he proposed to me.
[She scoffs though there's no negativity behind it.]
The nerve of him to show me up like that.
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[Another chuckle, followed by a shake of his head.]
After all that, he couldn't even let you have your moment?
[There's not an ounce of criticism in his voice; the attempt to tease is softened by sentimentality. For better or worse, he's always been something of a romantic. It had not served him well in the past, unfortunately, but he'd never quite given it up, even after withdrawing from the world as he had.]
That's quite a history you two had.
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[Instead of an unbearable sting, she's left with mysterious relief. When was the last time she talked so much about Adam without feeling uncomfortable? And when was it she felt like she truly accepted his passing?]
I guess my point is kissing me out of almost nowhere is demonstrably much more pleasant than being rejected twice over a span of a decade. More importantly...
[She reaches over with one hand to gently cup his chin with her fingers.]
I don't think you'll leave me anytime soon, will you?
no subject
Oh.
He clears his throat softly, giving a minute shake of his head so as not to pull away from her gentle hold.]
No, no, I do believe you're right.
[He's not about to go anywhere.]
I made a promise, after all— that you would be safe with me.
[In every sense of the word.]
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Well... I know you'd like to keep me up, but unfortunately, I'm still on a day and night cycle of sleep.
[This Green Witch, seriously...]
And we got a vampire soiree to worry about so let's chew on that first.
[At least before any of this.]
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You need your rest, and I ought to reopen the shop.
[He gets to his feet before he can make any other impulsive decisions, the heady rush her blood had provided finally beginning to subside, and he smooths out the front of his shirt with both hands before straightening the way his coat hangs from his shoulders by tugging sharply at the lapels— anything to keep his hands busy.]
You have— everything you need to be comfortable?
[He's encouraged her to make herself at home well before now, but asking just seems like the right thing to do.]
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[Already she's lifted the covers and inserted herself beneath them, head sinking into the pillow and covering half of her face with the sheet.]
I am quite comfortable, thank you very much.
[And just because she can't help herself...]
Do you wanna watch me sleep before reopening?
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Those vampire romance novels give us a terrible name, I'm afraid. Not that it isn't deserved in some cases, but I would hardly advise anyone use Twilight as a reference for our behaviors.
[Which is to say no, he will not linger to watch her sleep, but her teasing does bring color to his pallid face once more.]
... goodnight, Amelia. Sleep well.