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Tell me would you kill to save a life?
Topic Started: Jul 1 2013, 06:37 PM (410 Views)
Sebastian Bancroft
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It never ends. The fighting, the bloodshed. It always seemed to happen when they least expected it and there was seemingly nothing that they could do to stop it. Somehow, Reed never failed to find a way to reign his own brand of destruction and chaos onto the rest of the wizarding world. People died. Houses burned. Lives were destroyed. All at the whim of a madman.

These thoughts were flying through Sebastian’s mind as quickly as the spells and hexes soared through the air of Diagon Alley. Despite the hopelessness of this war, he found that these thoughts did not leave him worried or sad. No, these realizations did nothing but fuel the rage that had been building within him since the beginning of the war.

Sebastian Bancroft was generally an easy going bloke with a quick smile and an infectious laugh, but this war had forced him to realize his darker side. The hatred and fury that had begun to fester within him. He hated everything that Reed stood for. He hated the mindless minions that hung on his every word. He hated that people he knew and loved were suffering and dying because of this. And more than all of that combined, he hated what this war had done to Saoirse.

She was still Saoirse. Intelligent, clever, gorgeous. But she was now the enemy. She chose Reed’s arrogant war over her family and friends. She chose Reed over him. That was probably the part that hurt the most. They had had a handful of run ins between them since the beginning of this war. Each one was more painful than the previous. Yet for some reason, he couldn’t let it alone. He couldn’t stay away from her.

“Seb?” Lucy’s voice broke through his thoughts. Sebastian looked down to the pretty blonde at his side. The sounds of shouting and spells crashing into things filled the air, but for just a moment, all he could hear was Lucy. He had to get her out of here.

It was supposed to be a fun afternoon out for the two of them. It was summer holidays and after everything that they’d been through the year before, they had decided to just have some fun. Catch a quidditch game, do a bit of shopping and maybe have some ice cream. Normal teenage things.

Instead they were cowering inside Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour while the world went to shit outside. They couldn’t escape this war. Not even for a few hours.

“Luce, I need you to go out the back door and find someplace safe to hide. I’m going to help where I can.” Sebastian placed a hand on the side of her neck and planted a kiss on her forehead. “Stay out of sight and stay safe. If anything happens, shout for me. I will find you.”

The pair locked eyes for a moment and she lifted a hand to his now healed chest. She told him to be careful before she did as he asked. He had half expected an argument from her, but she had seen what the last battle had done to him and if he were smart, he would be joining her in an effort to avoid a repeat performance.

As he heard the back door close behind her, Seb turned his focus back to the battle that was waging on outside the quaint little ice cream shop. He recognized a few figures from both sides. Some of them he’d seen in the battle at the school or in Hogsmeade.

Even as he scanned the area, his wand was out and ready. He couldn’t help but think of his friends. What he wouldn’t give to have Silas and Jude to watch his back at this particular moment.

It was then that he saw her. He’d recognize her anywhere. Despite the fact that she was wearing a long black cloak similar to what most of Reed’s followers were wearing, he knew instantly it was Saoirse.

His heart dropped as he watched her. He knew that things could get out of control in a situation like this. And it could happen in a split second.

She was striding down the street with a small group of Reed’s followers. She looked so tiny compared to the hulking figures beside her. Yet he knew better than most how powerful she really was. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to run out and grab her. Hide away with her somewhere until it was all over. Just to get them out of this mess. That’s what he wanted to do.

Yet all he could actually do is sit back and watch.

Watch as the world fell apart.


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Saoirse Matthews
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It was her very first mission without Sam. He’d been called to do something with Garrish while Saoirse had been placed with the hulking brute force of Reed’s army to obtain some hidden trinket from Knockturn Alley. She was the smallest; she could slide into Borgin & Burke’s while the others caused a scene. She’d be able to go through unnoticed and they also knew that if the situation was out of control, Saoirse could handle a wand just as well as any of these brainless oafs that accompanied her.

Apparating with five muscle-men around her wasn’t easy. First, she had to tend to one of them who’d managed to splinch himself – right on the bottom, too. Dopey prat. Then, she had to actually point them in the right direction; Merlin forbid they accidentally begin terrorizing Muggle London.

As they strode down busy Diagon Alley, all Hell broke loose. One of the five decided that was a good time to hex one of the shop owners, who just so happened to be one of Reynolds’ top men in Diagon Alley. The damn idiot. Saoirse barely had time to shout his name before the full-out battle began in the street.

She had no choice. If she didn’t fight in front of these men, she would be in major trouble. Her hand moved of its own accord and the wordless magic she weaved was weak, not her standard spellwork. She didn’t want to hurt people and this was one of the first missions she was given where she didn’t have to hurt anyone.

Soon, there were a dozen of Reed’s followers in Diagon Alley and even double appeared for Reynolds. She couldn’t even make out all of the faces. What she did know, however, was that if she stayed to duel every wizard in the alley, eventually she would have to use her good spells so that she wasn’t left here alone to defend herself since her entourage was dropping like flies.

Saoirse grabbed the collar of one of the ape-like men and whispered harshly in his ear. They needed the amulet necklace from Borgin’s shop or Reed was going to have their heads on a platter. And, Saoirse was getting really good at dodging threats like that. It was almost scary how well she was integrating; sometimes she didn’t even recognize herself.

Like a Chinese Whisper, Saoirse’s command traveled to three of the five men she’d come to Diagon Alley with. While the battle raged on around them, Saoirse lead the group toward Knockturn Alley, towards their destination.

It wasn’t until she was dictating orders to the others that Saoirse realized they had stopped walking a few steps back. She spun on her heel, mostly to tell them off for being thick as two short planks, but she reeled when she noticed his disheveled blond hair, the haphazard cloak strewn about his shoulders and a defensive wand held up in front of his face.

“Fuck.” The word barely carried through the shouts of hexes and curses that were flying around them.

Sebastian stood against three overgrown wizards, Reed’s men, and there wasn’t much of a chance he was going to make it out unscathed. In fact, she’d wager good money that he’d end up missing important limbs – no matter how good of a dueler Saoirse knew him to be.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Saoirse was watching the man she loved being threatened with dark magic, magic she knew other wizards don’t recover from. And he looked so sure of himself, so certain that he could take them all, she would have laughed if the situation were against friendly bunny rabbits instead of Reed’s most vicious henchmen.

“Smelting, Wormley, Leech,” Saoirse called out. Her voice commanded the attention of her cohorts. Her tone was so full of authority that each of the men turned to attention immediately, and just as she was preparing to order them away from her love, Saoirse’s eyes met his and she lost her control.

Leech raised his wand hand and slashed down towards Sebastian’s chest. Saoirse shouted a violent, soul-wrenching “no!” as the spell met his body. He swayed on the spot but managed to keep his footing.

Quick as her reflexes would allow, Saoirse jumped to Sebastian’s defense. She stunned each of the men who threatened him. Perhaps they were more powerful than they should have been, considering she’d have to explain to Garrish why and how they’d been knocked out during their mission, but Saoirse was on a passionate rage after watching them attack Sebastian when he wasn’t paying attention properly.

She could have killed them. Easily. One little spell to end each of them. But she knew better. She had to control it. And while she shouldn’t have bothered to care for Sebastian, her heart wouldn’t allow her to leave him vulnerable.

Saoirse did what she could. She knelt beside the bodies of the three men who were to escort her to Borgin’s and depleted their memories, perhaps too many. She only hoped that if they were addled, they’d stay that way.

When she was done, she turned back to Sebastian. He was no longer standing, but lying on the ground with his hand to his chest.

Saoirse grabbed him, despite any protest, and heaved him onto his feet. She bared most of his weight and dragged him down into Knockturn Alley, into the shadows where no one could see, where no one would bother them because they knew her mission and they wouldn’t dare fuck it up.

She set him down when she knew they were safe. Her tiny body crumpled next to his, the adrenaline rush worn off. Saoirse placed her hands on his chest and saw the blood seeping through his shirt. She moved quickly to remove his shirt, but he began fighting against her.

Saoirse grabbed his hands and finally, for the first time since she’d nearly killed her own, she met his eyes.

“We have to staunch the blood, Sebastian. Otherwise, you’re going to die and I just can’t let that happen. I just can’t.”
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Sebastian Bancroft
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Sebastian moved as though he were under the Imperius curse. He opened the door and stepped out into the dangerous street. His eyes never left the petite brunette that still owned his heart. On wooden legs, he stumbled out of the ice cream shop and stumbled through the melee towards Knockturn Alley. Somehow he managed to avoid most of the duels and fights going on around him. His movements were not directed by his brain. His heart ruled his feet at the moment.

A sizzling gold bolt of light whooshed past his head. He could feel his hair being ruffled by the spell. Reacting instinctively, he shot off a stunning curse at a older man wearing the long dark robes. The man was shoved back violently at the force of the curse and collided with the wall behind him.

Without a second thought toward the now unconscious dark wizard, Sebastian continued to move to where Saoirse and her companions had gone. He didn't even realize that it was happening until he stood before her goon squad. He had no plan. No idea what would happen next.

He held his wand up defensively as he came face to face with the three largest wizards he’d ever faced. His heart raced, but it wasn't fear. At least not fear of these beasts. His mind was focused solely on the beautiful brunette that was now turning toward him.

“Fuck.” He didn't hear the word from her, but he could read her lips as the word slipped out unexpectedly.

He should have been scared. He should have been terrified. Any one of these overgrown gorillas in robes could have snapped him like a twig without the use of magic. The fact of the matter was that he felt confident that he could get off a few quick spells before any of them could even reach him. He cast a cheeky smirk at them as Saoirse barked out their names.

“Heel, boys.” Seb taunted softly as all three turned toward her. Only one of them seemed to hear him and the oaf reacted immediately. His wand moved in a quick slashing motion at the same moment that Saoirse screamed no. Seb hesitated for only a split second but it was all the oversized wizard needed.

The spell caught Sebastian in the chest and he knew immediately that it had hit the same spot as before. He could feel the newly formed scar tissue rip apart as white hot searing pain radiated out from the spot. Somehow he didn't fall. He stayed on his feet as Saoirse jumped in front of him. He tried to tell her no, he didn't want to see her hurt because of him but her ever quick wand worked against the trio of gargantuan gits.

As the three of them fell, Seb’s knees finally buckled and he sank wordlessly to the ground. He lifted a hand up to gingerly touch his chest. Even the slightest brush of his fingers on the wound caused the pain to flare and stole his breath.

It was bad. Worse than the last time. Bad enough that he knew he might not make it out of this dreary alley alive. He began to think about his friends and family. He began to dwell on the many regrets he had for his short time on this planet.

He thought of his father and his sisters - of Calleigh. He never got to say goodbye. How could he ever say good bye to her? She was his other half. His best friend. They had leaned on each other since before they could walk, and now he was leaving her. The thought of causing her even a moments pain was more unbearable that the gaping wound on his chest. There were no words that would ever make this okay for her. He could only hope that Silas and Jude would look out for her in his place.

Jude and Silas. Merlin, the Merry Men would be a man down now. They had been there for him through everything in the last six years. He didn't know how he’d have gotten through Hogwarts without his best mates at his side. He’d have died in Hogsmeade without them beside him, and as if to prove that point, he went into battle without them and was now laying in a pool of his own blood only Saoirse at his side.

Saoirse Matthews. The love of his life. He may have doubted that once, but it was a truth that he'd accepted long ago. She was the only girl that he ever truly cared about. At least he’d be with her if this really was the end. In that thought, he took comfort. He wasn't’t ready to go, but if he had to go, he’d rather die with her at his side. It was oddly poetic. He’d thought his life was over when she left him, but now that his life might actually be ending, she was with him.

He opened his eyes as she began to haul him to his feet. He was surprised at how wobbly his legs were. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stand on his own. He had to rely on her tiny frame as support as she led him to a darkened area.

She tried to lower him to the ground gently but his weight was too much and he slumped down to the ground. Saoirse collapsed beside him and immediately began to tug at his shirt.

He knew that she was trying to help, but his only thought was of what would happen to her if she were caught helping someone loyal to Reynolds cause. She wouldn't just be punished. She'd be tortured, she'd may even be killed. She was a student. No one of importance to someone like Reed. She was expendable. And Sebastian couldn't stand the thought of even a seconds suffering for her. No. He wouldn't let that happen. Not on his behalf anyway.

He'd deal with this on his own. If his own damn legs wouldn't hold him, then he'd crawl for help. If it would keep her safe, then he'd somehow find the strength to jump up and dance a goddamn jig.

He pushed her hands away and she grabbed his. Her espresso coloured eyes locked on to his and he could see the frustration and concern in her stare.

“We have to staunch the blood, Sebastian. Otherwise, you’re going to die and I just can’t let that happen. I just can’t.” She hurled the words at him fiercely. She was scared. He could see that beneath the fury in her dark eyes. He lifted a hand up away from hers and brushed it against her cheek.

"Saoirse. Stop." He said softly, "You can't be here. If they catch you helping me, it won't matter if you stop the blood. We'll both be dead. I am the enemy and they will kill us both if they catch us together." His fingers left a smudge of blood on her pale face, he frowned at it and let his hand drop back down to her. "Go. Do whatever it is that you have to do, but leave me and I'll find my way back to Diagon Alley for help."

"I will not be the excuse they use to kill or torture you. I can't let that happen. I won't." She made no attempt to move. He pushed her hands back. "You have to go."
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Saoirse Matthews
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Saoirse was quickly losing her capacity to handle the situation in front of her. Her ability to remember even basic medical remedies, the type of healing she did for herself and Sam regularly, was dwindling down to nothing more than plasters. She couldn’t soothe this massive slice of Sebastian’s skin with a plaster. Hell, she didn’t even have a plaster.

Her big, worried brown eyes darted from Seb’s chest to his eyes and she panicked further. Seb was paling, his eyes losing the spark she loved so much.

She couldn’t help the furious tears that began to well up in the corner of her eyes. This was her fault; if she hadn’t been there, if she hadn’t brought that stupid, oversized oaf with her, if she hadn’t ever gotten involved with Reed to begin with… Seb wouldn’t be hurt. He wouldn’t be dying right before her eyes.

Her breathing, and the rapid thinking that accompanied it, stopped the moment one of his hands grazed her cheek. Surely he was beginning to hallucinate and thought that somehow, she was someone else. Perhaps he was picturing Lucy or one of his many other conquests that meant something to him. There was no logical reason she could find to assume that he meant that intimate gesture for her.

Until he said her name.

“Saoirse. Stop.”

If possible, she gripped his other hand tighter and pressed her free hand into the wound on his chest. Something, anything to apply pressure and make the bleeding stop.

“You can't be here. If they catch you helping me, it won't matter if you stop the blood. We'll both be dead. I am the enemy and they will kill us both if they catch us together.”

“No,” she whispered back to him. Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to ignore his stupid, logical words. “If you think I’ll just leave you here to die –”

His hand dropped and his voice was losing its volume.

Saoirse stared at him, couldn’t even force herself to blink, as she scrambled to find something, anything in her limited knowledge of healing and dark spells, to cure Sebastian. Blood began to seep from his lips, lining them with red stains. She couldn’t help it; Saoirse let the tears fall.

Here she was, alone for the first time in ages with the boy she secretly loved and swore to save. And she couldn’t save him. Why wasn’t her brain working like it usually did? When she saw Sam injured, when it was his blood covering her pasty hands, she knew how to fix him and how to sustain him. But now? This? Saoirse could only think of one thing:

Please don’t die.

“Go. Do whatever it is that you have to do, but leave me and I’ll find my way back to Diagon Alley for help.”

“No!” Her whisper grew fierce while the tears began to pour from her eyes. Was he insane? If he was discovered injured, near death, some fucking dark wizard was going to take less than a second to kill him. She’d never send him out to his death.

Both of her hands clasped his shirt and twisted the fabric between her tiny fists. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to shake him for saying something so heart wrenching and stupid, or kiss him for trying to be such a brave fool.

“I will not be the excuse they use to kill or torture you. I can't let that happen. I won't.”

Was he mental? Like she could walk away from this – be the one who left Sebastian Bancroft to die? Did he really think so little of her now, to even entertain the idea that she could possibly care about anything more than some stupid mission from Reed? Did he not understand that she would give her life for him, that she was actively giving her life for him every second of the day?

Saoirse’s tears evaporated and something new took over. Anger and hurt mingled together to create an entirely new emotion, something she had never felt before. It was killing her.

“You have to go,” he said finally after pushing her hands away.

Saoirse pushed herself up onto her knees and sat back on her heels. No, she wasn’t going to be shooed away like some burden best placed somewhere else. Bollocks to that.

With new found strength, Saoirse leaned forward towards Sebastian and ripped his shirt open from the collar down to the very end that hung over his trousers.

When her eyes met the deep slash across his splintered chest, she nearly vomited all over him. She glanced for a split second to his eyes, worried perhaps that in those few seconds, he’d fainted or worse… Saoirse took a deep breath, pulled her wand from her pocket and began reciting every single healing spell she could remember.

They did nothing.

Sebastian kept muttering on about her leaving, but she ignored him. She had to fix this – to save him.

Otherwise, what would she be fighting for?

“I’m not leaving. If you want to keep prattling on about it, then please at least make yourself useful while you do.”

Saoirse shoved a vial of silver colored liquid into Sebastian’s hand and urged him to drink from it. It wasn’t supposed to be used until she got to Borgin’s. It was meant to disguise her to steal the amulet. But it was better served now, when Sebastian needed cover most. If no one could see him, no one could put two and two together and discover her secret.

“Drink.” She barked out the order much like she did to the minions that were accompanying her to Borgin’s.

It was a tone she was getting used to using. Sam was teaching her how to use her confidence to her advantage. He was giving her tools to save her life. Slowly, the information that had filtered out of her mind when she began to panic about Sebastian’s injuries began to creep back into her thoughts.

“Drink it, Sebastian.”

While he tipped the liquid into his mouth, Saoirse took a deep breath and remembered the incantation to the spell she’d used once on Sam’s shoulder. A thin, blue jet of light escaped her wand and began slowly stitching the wound on Sebastian’s chest.

Thankfully, Seb had swallowed the potion because the next second his painful screams echoed through the alleyway. Saoirse bit her lip and closed her eyes as her wand worked its way through his skin. She placed her hand on his forehead to check his temperature – burning up – and then twisted her wand so that the stitching finished.

“I should have warned you,” she made a calming, shushing sound as she leaned over Sebastian’s sweating face. “I’m sorry. I had no other choice…”

The potion was beginning to take effect. Sebastian’s body was beginning to blend in with its surroundings. Instead of his pale, creamy skin, there were hints of black matching the ground he was laying on. Saoirse silently thanked Merlin that the Disillusionment Potion worked; she wasn’t sure she’d gotten the ingredients right and it was a far more superior potion than she was a potionmaster.

“We have to get you somewhere safe.”

While saying the words, she began to heave Sebastian into a sitting position. He was refusing her help, trying to make her go away, but she was not going to leave his side. Not now. Not until she could get him to someone from the Order. Someone who could keep him safe.

“The more you struggle the longer we’re going to sit here and draw attention, especially after your screaming. So, c’mon.”

She hauled Sebastian’s hand up, thankful that he’d given in and stood from his spot on the ground. Saoirse ran towards a small door in the side of a brick building and slammed the door open with her foot, pulling Sebastian inside after her.

The dim light of her wand lit the tiny space. It wasn’t much, just enough room for a small single bed, a chair and space to move around them, but it was the only place Saoirse could think of that would be safe for them for the moment. As she caught Sebastian’s eyes wandering around the dinky room, she enlightened him on their whereabouts.

“Dad won’t let me back home during holidays. Says it’s too dangerous. So I have this. Rent’s cheap – couple of galleons a month and I have to waitress at one of the pubs down the alley a few nights a week for nothing but tips, but it’s not so bad.”

Saoirse pulled her cloak off and tossed it onto the chair.

“Do you mind if I finish stitching your chest? We can cast a charm so that no one can hear you. And the potion should wear off in a few minutes.”
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One look into Saoirse's eyes as she rocked back on her knees told Sebastian that she was not going to listen to him. The Matthews's stubbornness was about to rear its head. He'd seen the same look in Silas's eyes enough times to know that there was nothing he could say to change her mind. But this wasn't a silly Merry Men mission that would go awry, this situation could cost her her life. And that wasn't something that Seb could accept. He would not let her die on his behalf.

As she reached down to tug his shirt open, Sebastian was startled to find that he didn't have the strength to push her away.

"No, Saoirse. Please. You have to go." He muttered as she began trying a number of healing spells. He could feel the magic but none of them seemed to have any effect on the wound that ached relentlessly.

“I’m not leaving. If you want to keep prattling on about it, then please at least make yourself useful while you do.” Saoirse whispered fiercely as she pushed a small vial into his hands. He looked down at it in confusion. He didn't recognize the potion at a glance, which shouldn't have been all that surprising since he barely squeaked by in potions class.

"Drink." She snapped at him. He glanced up at her. Despite her angry tone, he could see nothing but concern and fear on her delicate features. “Drink it, Sebastian.”

And he did as she asked. Tipping the vial into his mouth, the taste of blueberries and licorice danced over his tongue before he swallowed it. Before he could truly wonder about what this potion was for the wound on his chest exploded. The pain was sudden and furious. It seemed permeate every single cell in his body. He could hear screaming but he was only vaguely aware of the fact that the screams were coming from him. His entire body tensed and convulsed against the sudden and agonizing pain.

Then it ended as quickly as it had begun. Sebastian's breath was coming in ragged gasps as he stared up at Saoirse. She leaned over him and spoke to him. Her words were lost on him. The only sounds he could hear were of his own harsh breathing and thudding heart.

Saoirse began to pull at him. Hauling him up into a sitting position. The world began to tilt on its axis as he was forced into a more horizontal position. He could feel what little colour he did have, leave his face.

“The more you struggle the longer we’re going to sit here and draw attention, especially after your screaming. So, c’mon.” She tugged on his arm again and this time, Sebastian made an effort to get to his feet for her. As she ran ahead, she pulled him along after her. His legs were still wobbly, but he forced them to follow her. In fact, he was concentrating so hard on keeping his legs beneath him, he didn't even give a thought to where they were going.

As the door shut behind them, Sebastian looked around the tiny room. It was a sparsely furnished, dimly lit room that looked like it may have been a storage cupboard at one point. The bed was neatly made with a threadbare blanket and thin pillow. The roughly made chair against the wall was soon covered in Saoirse's cloak as she turned to look at him.

“Dad won’t let me back home during holidays. Says it’s too dangerous. So I have this. Rent’s cheap – couple of galleons a month and I have to waitress at one of the pubs down the alley a few nights a week for nothing but tips, but it’s not so bad.”

Sebastian was gobsmacked. Her father, who by all accounts, was one of the wealthiest wizards in all of England, made his only daughter, and youngest child live like a pauper in a shithole like Knockturn Alley? A small bubble of anger began to well up in him on Saoirse's behalf. How could Gabriel Matthews live with himself? What kind of man was he? What kind of father?

He let Saoirse live like this, scraping by just to live in this grubby little closet, while he lived alone in a mansion. The man likely didn't even notice that Silas had taken off at all. Maybe his rage came because Seb was more accustomed to parents like his own. Parents that annoyed the hell out of their children by always trying to be aware of where they were and what they were doing. Parents that actually gave a shit about their children.

“Do you mind if I finish stitching your chest? We can cast a charm so that no one can hear you. And the potion should wear off in a few minutes.” Saoirse asked in a softer voice.

Sebastian's eyes met hers as he lay down wearily on the bed and nodded. He knew it would hurt like hell but if they didn't stop the bleeding, he'd likely die. He watched the lovely brunette as she cast several protection and silencing spells around the dingy room. She turned to him and sat beside him on the bed. Their eyes met for a moment and Sebastian nodded again. Giving her the go ahead.

The pain was just as intense as before but maybe because he was ready for it, he seemed to be able to deal with it a bit better. His cries of pain were minimal but his hands clenched into the blanket at either side of him as he writhed on the bed. When she finished, he was left panting and sweating on the bed, but the pain in his chest was much better. It still throbbed but it wasn't as all consuming as it had been even a few minutes before.

Without thinking, he reached for her hand and held it in his. He gathered his breath and his thoughts while he stared up at her. Somehow, despite the wretched living conditions and the enormous stress she had to be under while working for Reed, Saoirse was every bit as beautiful as she'd ever been.

"Thank you." he whispered. He lifted her hand up to press it to his lips. His eyes never leaving hers. His lips curled into a weak half grin. "And don't ever do that again." The blue of his eyes darkened as the thoughts of what could have happened crossed his mind. "I couldn't bear it if anything happened to you because of me."
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Holding Sebastian’s gaze was growing harder by the moment. Sure, Saoirse knew that she was doing him a favor, saving his life, and providing a place to stay safe while the raging battle of Diagon Alley stormed on, but that didn’t stop her guilt over everything. She was to blame for this wound. She was to blame for every ounce of pain he was in. Saoirse had never owned up to her side of things before.

Not until this moment.

This moment, when his eyes found hers and he trusted her so implicitly, when she realized that everything that had happened before – the other girls he’d been with, the lack of response when she had declared her love for him, Lucy, Sam, the fights about her place in the war – it was all her fault, everything happened because of her decisions and her actions, not because this man who she was absolutely head over heels in love with didn’t love her.

Because the very second that he handed his life to her to save, she knew everything that he felt and that it had always been, and would always be, love.

Suddenly, her tiny little studio apartment seemed smaller somehow.

Seb was so trusting of her, even as he thought she was fighting for Reed. No matter what he could have possibly imagined that she’d have to do in the name of Reed, Seb still trusted her with his life. And it meant everything to her.

Before she lost herself completely in that moment, Saoirse took a steady breath through her nose and forced herself to focus on the bleeding chest that demanded attention. The agony that the stitching spell caused, and Sebastian’s understandable shouts of pain, would get them found in an instant, especially since the goons she was with would be searching her out.

She turned away from Seb and quickly secured her flat with silencing spells and protective wards. When Saoirse was absolutely positive no one would be able to get into her flat, and no one would be able to hear Seb if he screamed, she moved back to the bedside and sat next to him. All she wanted to do in that moment was hold his hand, offer some sort of comfort for the pain that she was due to cause him. Instead, she stole another deep breath and looked to him for permission to begin.

She still had half his chest to stitch up and as her wand began to work its magic, Saoirse forced herself not to stop. The way that he squirmed beneath her spell, the sparse but gut-wrenching moans of pain - it brought tears to her eyes and a large lump formed in her chest. Watching Sebastian deal with the brutal magical spell was far different to watching Sam’s reactions. Sam would look away and stay absolutely still. Seb’s eyes, however, never left hers. Not for a single second. And she had to force herself to finally look directly at his wound for fear that she might lose track of where she was directing the magic and sew his chin to his chest.

Once she was finished, Saoirse laid her wand on the bed and raised her hand to place it on his forehead. It never made it that far. Sebastian’s hand caught hers and she winced, afraid of what might happen when he came to his senses and realized it was her fault that he laid on her bed with a poxed suture on his chest because of a near-fatal wound.

Saoirse could feel the sweat beginning to break on her forehead and knew that her hair was flying every-which direction. Her eyes still felt raw from the few tears that managed to prickle her eyes, and her lips were swollen from the desperate clench she had on them with her teeth while she tortured Sebastian with makeshift healing.

“Thank you.” His voice was hoarse, but its sincerity was not lost on her. She was startled at the tone, expecting something entirely different.

She tried to speak, to apologize, to say anything at all that wasn’t ‘you’re welcome’ because it was a situation that Saoirse never wanted to be in. To watch her Sebastian struggle for his life while he lay bleeding in front of her… that itself was torture to Saoirse.

Then he did something she couldn’t have expected in this or any lifetime. His lips were on her skin and she was on fire from head to toe. It was a simple act from him, a truly Sebastian gesture, but it meant something deeper to Saoirse. Something that she couldn’t ever explain. It was almost forgiveness mixed with genuine gratitude that should have brought a smile to her face. Instead, it brought painful guilt and sorrow.

“And don’t ever do that again. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you because of me.” The severity of his tone reflected in the way his eyes followed hers. Those haunting blue eyes that came to her in dreams were clouded and filled with worry.

Saoirse snatched her hand away and jumped from the bed so that she could have space. She needed to breathe and she needed to sort her jumbled thoughts out. How in Merlin’s name could he still care for her so much after everything she’d done? How could he be so blunt about his feelings towards her, when she could hardly look him in the eyes for fear that she’d break down and tell him a million times in a single breath how much she loved him?

If Sam knew… God, if Sam could see her now, and know what she’d done and how royally she’d fucked up her mission, he’d kill her himself. Today was a test, the test. If she didn’t come back with that amulet from Borgin & Burke’s, not only would she face Sam’s intolerable judgment and anger, but Garrish’s – and possible Cassandra’s – wicked wand work.

Her eyes instinctively flashed down to her hip where she had been struck before with a spell she couldn’t fathom. Blinding pain, searing hot into her skin, branded her with a mark she’d never be rid of. Her regret from that night was that Sam had suffered as well. They’d both walked away from Garrish’s home with scars that would last a lifetime.

When Saoirse brought her frightened gaze back to Sebastian, she was stricken and pale. He was sitting up, his ripped shirt falling off his shoulders. His blonde hair was in a disheveled state, sweeping over his damp forehead and falling into his eyes. She wanted to run to him, grab him tightly in a crushing hug and whisper her apologies over and over and over.

But, she maintained her distance and walked carefully around to the foot of the bed, avoiding eye contact with him. She squatted down and shoved her hand under the bed, clinking hidden potion vials together until she found the short, round one that she needed.

When she stood up, a small vial of green slushy liquid in her hand, Saoirse finally caught Seb’s eyes. He’d been watching her. A faint blush crept up her cheeks. She approached him distantly and extended her arm to hand him the potion. The moment he took it, his finger touched her hand, and it was as if a jolt of electricity crashed through her. Her legs wobbled and when she spoke, her voice quivered even in its small and very quiet quality.

“Essence of Lavender.” Her eyes darted to the potion and then back to his. “It’ll numb the pain, but I’m afraid the scar will be there forever.”

Like all of the alcohol in the world and its effect on her love for the boy whose heart she kept breaking with every decision she made.

Everything that followed happened fast as a shot. Saoirse collapsed onto the bed next to Sebastian and the walls came tumbling down.

She put her head in her hands and began to cry. Incoherent apologies and declarations made through garbled sobs were quick to escape her as she completely lost herself to the overwhelming emotion she felt at having watched Sebastian nearly die.
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Sebastian Bancroft
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Even before she pulled her hand free of his grasp, Sebastian could see the pain, fear and worry in her chocolate coloured eyes. He knew that she felt responsible. He knew this in the same way that he knew no amount of coaxing from him would convince her otherwise.

There was nothing about this situation that was her fault. He had been the one to step into the line of fire without backup and he was the one who'd been distracted from the fight at hand. This entire thing was his own doing and he was well aware of that.

Saoirse got up from the bed and Seb pulled himself up into a sitting position. His arms propped back against the bed to keep himself from falling back onto the bed. He watched her carefully as she paced around the room. Her eyes were frantic as she cast them back in his direction. He wanted more than anything to move toward her. To catch her in his arms and protect her from the world around them, but he couldn't even be sure that he could stand on his own at the moment.

She pulled her gaze from his but his eyes lingered on her slight frame as she moved toward the end of the bed. It was then that he began to see the real changes in her.

She was just as beautiful as she'd ever been. Gorgeous in that casual way that very few woman can attain. But she looked tired. Lost. Scared. She seemed smaller somehow, thinner. He knew better than most just how tough Saoirse Matthews was, but there was a vulnerability about her that he'd never noticed before. He knew that she had likely seen terrible things in her time in Reed's army but this was the first that he'd noticed a physical change in her.

His brow knit together in concern briefly as he watched her reach down under the bed. He could hear the clink of glass on glass and when she straightened back up she held a small vial. She handed him the curved bottle and as their fingers touched, he let his eyes linger on hers. Her voice trembled slightly as she spoke.

“Essence of Lavender.” Her eyes darted to the potion and then back to his. “It’ll numb the pain, but I’m afraid the scar will be there forever.”

Then as quickly as she had darted from the bed, she dropped back down beside him. This time her face was buried in her hands. He could hear her trying to talk through the sobs. Her entire frame was shaking from the intense emotions washing over her. For a few seconds he sat there dumbfounded. He grew up in a house full of women and tears had always been his downfall. Every single time. He didn't now how to cope.

Setting the potion on the bed, Sebastian forgot about his own pain, he could only see hers. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up next to her. Without hesitation, he slid his arms around her and drew her in against his newly mended chest. His hand came up to smooth down her soft hair. He didn't know how long they sat like that but as he held her, he realized again just how much she meant to him.

They had been through so much in the time that they'd known each other. More than what most people have to endure in a lifetime. Yet here they were. In the same place they had been before the war started. In each other's arms. He pulled back slightly and glanced down at her reddened face. With a gentle brush of his thumb, he wiped away the tears from one damp cheek. Their eyes met and he flashed a small smile at her.

"Better?" He asked with soft teasing tone. His eyes lingered on the dark brown irises staring back up at him.

"Saoirse," He began hesitantly, "I know all the reasons why we never worked out. I know that you've moved on with Davis and I know that we are on opposite sides of this goddamn war. I hate some of the decisions you've made recently and I know that it's too late. My brain knows all of that information, but it doesn't mean shit. I still love you. I think I've always loved you. I know I will always love you."

He couldn't read the expression in her damp eyes but he had to keep going. If he stopped, he may not be able to get this out and something inside of him knew that he had to say it. But more than that, she had to hear it.

"I'm not just saying this because I missed you. And I'm not saying this out of jealousy of Davis. I do miss you and I am incredibly jealous. But I'm telling you this is because I need you to know that, despite it all, with every terrible thing we've been through, I am still completely and hopelessly in love with you. The biggest regret in my entire life was not responding to you that night so long ago.

Then he did something that he hadn't planned or even thought about. The movement was purely instinctual. It was something that he'd thought about doing countless times before but in the moment, it had taken no thought at all.

He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers in a soft slow kiss. His hand moved up to tangle in the chestnut curls at the back of her neck as his other arm slid down to her waist and he pulled her closer, revelling in the feel of her against him.

It had been far too long since he'd held her like this.
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Saoirse wasn’t sure how long she cried. If the sting of her salty tears running down her raw throat was any indication, she’d guess her sobs had lasted the better part of an hour. She could feel her puffy face, her nose running, and the random hiccups from her erratic breathing.

At some point, Sebastian began to hold her. His warm embrace cradled her gently, shushing her quietly in her ear and running his soft hands through her frizzy hair. Saoirse, who wasn’t a crier by any means, couldn’t stop herself from letting the tears fall. She knew she looked like an idiot, but she just didn’t care. She had to let it out because if these emotions showed themselves at any other time, she’d be tortured, perhaps killed.

Hell. She fucked up the mission. This might be the last time she’d even see Sebastian.

A fresh wave of tears overcame her. How had she gotten herself into this mess? Clearly, she made poor decisions, but she’d never meant for Sebastian to get hurt. Not ever. He wasn’t supposed to be there. He wasn’t supposed to mean this much.

Her heart ached, clenching so tightly that she couldn’t breathe. Saoirse’s shaking hands slid around Sebastian, hugging him close. Afraid to let him go. The second that she broke contact, she was sure that was it, the end, her final and heartbreaking goodbye.

It must have been ages that she sat in his arms, calming down enough to breathe and then working herself up into a full sob. But he didn’t stop her, didn’t try to make sense of the gibberish she was spouting while she cried. He comforted her, and he held her close. He made her remember why it was she fell in love with him in the first place.

That first time they had discovered a passion for each other, lying in her bed while her brother’s New Year’s Eve party raged on below them. They stole kisses and then Sebastian had her heart without Saoirse even realizing he’d taken it.

When Sebastian pulled back, Saoirse took a deep breath through her nostrils and tried to keep her stupid, uncontrollable tears at bay. A few stray ones fell, but as she gained much needed oxygen in her lungs, they began to ebb.

His eyes caught hers and she had no choice but to try and return the small smile he offered her. It was such a Sebastian trait – that smile that could cure all ills.

“Better?” He asked her, that playful tone Saoirse knew so well.

Saoirse nodded, not really sure if she was telling the truth. Did people ever feel better after pouring their soul out through their eyes? She wasn’t sure if this was better or worse or if she felt empty or so full of emotion that she was going to explode into tears again.

“Saoirse.”

She hiccupped and drew her bottom lip into her teeth, worrying it none-too-gently.

“I know all the reasons why we never worked out. I know that you've moved on with Davis and I know that we are on opposite sides of this goddamn war.”

No. She didn’t say the words out loud, but thought them vehemently as he spoke. She wasn’t moved on with anyone. She was trying to survive. Why couldn’t he see… how couldn’t he know that she was trying to help?

“I hate some of the decisions you've made recently and I know that it's too late. My brain knows all of that information, but it doesn't mean shit. I still love you.”

Her heart fluttered at the words. Saoirse nearly ripped herself away from him for fear that he had just ruined everything she had suffered for. And still, she stayed, hanging on his every syllable.

“I think I've always loved you. I know I will always love you.”

You silly, stupid boy, she thought as her eyes closed. There was a sadness that she didn’t want him to see. A forlorn ghost of lament that she would carry with her until the day she died. Even if that day happened to be now, when her Dark Lord discovered that she had failed on the mission she was entrusted to carry out.

When she opened her eyes again, she was struck with the earnest and desperate light shining back at her from Sebastian’s blue gaze. He meant his words, she had no doubt. But what good were the words now when so little could be done to prove them? Why now? What had changed when just a few days ago, he could barely look at her?

“I'm not just saying this because I missed you. And I'm not saying this out of jealousy of Davis. I do miss you and I am incredibly jealous.

Something roared to life inside of her, like a fire lit on dry bush. A monster was shouting victory inside of her, bringing color back to her face and life back to hear heart. For some reason, just knowing that he missed her – even if it was a fraction of the amount she missed him – and that he was jealous of Sam, though there was nothing to be jealous of, made her feel that she’d won something. Perhaps what she’d been missing all along. His heart… she had Sebastian’s heart.

“But I'm telling you this is because I need you to know that, despite it all, with every terrible thing we've been through, I am still completely and hopelessly in love with you.”

Saoirse didn’t realize that she was holding her breath. Not until it came out in a steady stream and clung to the air between them. She wanted to stop him, to tell him to take it back, but the little, victorious monster wouldn’t let her speak up. She wanted more. She never wanted it to stop.

“The biggest regret in my entire life was not responding to you that night so long ago.”

It was everything to her. The very breath that she stole into her lungs, the lights she saw flashing in her mind that told her this couldn’t happen, it couldn’t possibly work. It was life and it was beautiful and, sadly she thought perhaps, this was the end.

Until Sebastian did something surprising, completely catching her off guard. His lips slid into hers softly. She felt his hands curl into her hair and soon she was pulled against him. It was comfort and it was home. Just where she’d always wanted to be.

She kissed him back, losing herself in the feel of his hands on her body, his tongue sweeping against her lips. Her mind delved into places she wouldn’t allow for so long – to love, to feel, to hope.

Saoirse sat up in his lap, straddling his hips as he sat on the edge of the bed. She placed her hands on either side of his head, wrapping her fingers in his sandy hair. And she let it all out, everything she wanted to say, everything she wanted him to know, she poured it into the kiss as she pressed her body close to him and held on for dear life.

They stayed locked in their heated embrace for several minutes. Only the sounds of their heavy breathing could be heard through the small flat. When Saoirse finally pulled away, only a slight distance between their lips, her eyes sought his and she opened her bared her soul for him to see.

“I love you, Sebastian,” she whispered raggedly, placing another kiss on his lips.

She could feel his hands moving around her body as if trying to caress every part of her that he could reach. She reveled in it as she kissed him again and again. Over and over, she planted her salty lips on his at different intensities because she wasn’t getting enough and then it was too much again.

“I’m so sorry.” Her lips barely moved from his as she uttered the words she’d been dying to say since the day that she broke his heart on the Quidditch Pitch. “I’m so sorry – I’ve been so stupid.”

Her lips grazed his again and she pulled herself further away. Saoirse brought her hands down from the side of his face and placed them on his shoulders, steading herself precariously on his lap. Her entire body quaked with the feeling of him beneath her; almost as if he were surrounding her. Saoirse’s fingers drew unintelligible patterns on his skin as she tried to fight against her next throaty words.

“Please forgive me.” It was a plea, desperate and from a place so deep inside of her that it hurt just to wrench it away from her lips. “Please, Sebastian.”
Edited by Saoirse Matthews, Jul 10 2013, 02:16 AM.
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Sebastian Bancroft
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Sebastian wasn't sure if his declaration was going to be met with anger or pity but the words were out before he could think about the consequences. It was a statement on the type of person he was becoming. It wasn't that long ago that he'd have scoffed at the very idea of declaring his love for just one girl. Yet, knowing Saoirse - loving her - made him strive to be a better person. A better man.

His mind knew that his words would not be returned in kind. He had ruined any chance of a relationship with her, and he knew that. Yet there was a part of him - a stubborn, tiny corner of his heart that refused to relent. It foolishly held onto that sliver of hope that some day, some how she would return his feelings. He tried to keep himself from getting lost in that hope. He couldn't survive it if he allowed himself to give into that line of though. He reminded himself that she was with Sam now.

Maybe that's why the feeling of her lean frame pulled flush against his own affected him in such a profound way. His heart hammered erratically in his chest. He was certain she could feel it thudding against her tiny hand that now pressed against his chest.

There was no hesitation from Saoirse as Seb savoured the feel of her in his arms once again. The moment their lips met, Saoirse responded. Through the harsh scents of smoke, blood and magic that surrounded the pair of them, he couldn't help but notice the soft floral tones of her soap. The sharp contrast was so perfectly Saoirse. Soft and tough. Sweet and strong. Thoughtful and impetuous. She was a walking contradiction and every ounce of his being loved that about her.

As Saoirse began to move, shifting her body so that she was now in his lap. Their lips never parted for even a second. Her hands held either side of his head, as though she were afraid that he'd pull away. In that moment, there was nothing on this planet that could have pulled him from her embrace. This was everything he could have ever hoped for.

He untangled his fingers from her hair and let them trail down her spine. He could feel the shiver he was causing in her body. He was getting lost in the heat of her embrace. All the caution he'd tried to hold onto earlier was now out the window. Her kiss was fueled with an emotion that was undeniable and he couldn't help but to respond in kind. He poured every tiny bit of love and passion that he had for her into this shared embrace.

The sudden loss of contact between their lips was answered with a soft growl of frustration on Sebastian's part. His head tilted slightly as his lips sought out hers again. As she once again pulled back the tiniest bit, he lifted his eyelids to catch her gaze. Her intense stare stole his already ragged breath away.

“I love you, Sebastian,” Her words were barely a breath ghosting across his lips but those four words echoed in through his soul as if she'd shouted it from the rooftops. He could feel how powerful those words truly were. He didn't realize it until that very moment, but it was as though his heart had been buried in a mountain of regret and guilt but with a few syllables, she'd pulled him free. Everything in his being was finally alive because of her.

Her lips moved forward just a few millimeters to crash against his again. He couldn't seem to get enough of her. His hands moved over her body. his need to touch her was only fueled by the kisses that she peppered on his lips. Sebastian was reminded of a time so long ago in a crowded closet in the Matthews mansion.

The kiss was slow and lazily exhilarating . She pulled back the tiniest bit and before he could utter a protest her lips were back on his again. Each time her lips pulled away and came back the intensity of the passion between them grew. That teasing tongue of her explored his mouth in a intoxicating manner that left him breathless.

The kisses had been a sweet torment then and time had not changed that. His hands moved down to her waist as he tightened his embrace. She was flush against him, but it wasn't enough. His fingers brushed against the bare skin of her lower back as her shirt rode up slightly. A jolt of electricity seemed to dance up his arm from that tiny bit of contact. He did it again, this time deliberately. His fingers trailing under the hem of her shirt across the smooth warm skin of her lower back. He moaned softly into her insistent lips.

“I’m so sorry.” Her lips barely moved from his as she uttered the words. “I’m so sorry – I’ve been so stupid.”

He opened his eyes in surprise. Her lips caught his again but then she was putting a bit of distance between them. He watched her carefully as she struggled against the next words she uttered.

“Please forgive me.” It was a plea, desperate and from a place so deep inside of her that it hurt him to hear it. “Please, Sebastian.”

"Saoirse," He reached up to catch her head between his hands. His gaze was passionate as he tried to catch her stare. "There is nothing to forgive." He leaned forward to press a fierce kiss on her forehead before he pulled back to look into her eyes again.

"We've both made mistakes." He started. "And that's the past. We can't go back, and we can't change it. We can only move forward."

He paused.

Where was that? Where were they headed? Was this a moment of weakness or was this possibly a fresh start for them? There was so much fighting against them already. Did they even have a future outside this room?

That lightness and joy he had felt when she said she loved him, began to diminish. He knew that there was little chance at a future for them. How could there be when they were fighting on different sides of the war?

"I don't know where we go from here, See. I wish I did. But all I know is that I love you. And I don't know if I could bear losing you again." There was a note of pleading in his voice that he couldn't hide.
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Saoirse was burning up inside from the pure desire she felt for Sebastian. Worse, though, was the desperate need for him to understand that she was sorry for what she’d done, everything she’d chosen for herself, and how she’d broken his heart.

When his hands held her head and his eyes penetrated her stare, Saoirse swallowed thickly. She was terrified of what he would say. What if he wouldn’t, couldn’t possibly forgive her for everything?

“Saoirse, there is nothing to forgive.”

The searing kiss to her forehead sent tingles all over her body. Everything that Sebastian meant to her suddenly began to overwhelm and intoxicate her. She wasn’t even sure if she could hear him properly, what with the thudding of her heart so loud in her ears.

“We've both made mistakes." He started. "And that's the past. We can't go back, and we can't change it. We can only move forward."

Her stomach flopped. Suddenly, his eyes darkened and it wasn’t induced by lust. It was something else. Something heavier and morose. Saoirse steeled her face, preparing for Sebastian’s realization that there was nowhere forward for them to move towards.

Because she could see clearly that they had no common ground in the future. There was Reed’s way or there was Reynolds’s way, and neither of them met in the middle. How could there be a future for them when the future of the entire Wizarding World was up in the air?

"I don't know where we go from here, See. I wish I did. But all I know is that I love you. And I don't know if I could bear losing you again."

In a move that took all of her willpower and nearly ripped her heart directly from her chest, Saoirse detangled herself from Sebastian and stood up against the wall closest to her bed. She stared down at Sebastian and in order to control herself, placed her hands flat against the wall behind her back. At least this way she wouldn’t run her fingers through the fly-away locks on his forehead, or try to trail them down his exposed chest and torso.

Being so near to him was making her lightheaded. The smartest thing she could do, the thing that wouldn’t see her killed by the end of the night, was to maintain her distance from him. She pressed herself closer to the wall, aware that it was the second time that night that she didn’t trust herself to be close to him.

He was her undoing. If she wasn’t careful, the whole truth could come tumbling gout of her mouth. And that would ruin everything. It could kill her. Hell… she was probably going to die tonight anyway when Garrish realized that she didn’t complete her mission.

That thought changed everything. It completely spun her thoughts from ‘this absolutely cannot happen’ to ‘what if it’s my last night alive?’

Saoirse moved to stand in front of Sebastian and then reached down to grab his hand. She drew him up to stand on his feet and took a steadying breath. This was her last chance. She’d done what she promised herself she’d do; she risked everything for him, for his life. That was the point, wasn’t it? She’d gotten to save his life just the way she wanted to.

And that was the most important thing.

Maybe there was no future for them, but she knew that they had now, and if this was the last time she ever got to see him, Saoirse wanted him to know that no matter what he’d think about her later, no matter what he’d hear in the news or from anyone else, this moment – this little flicker in time where they stood a boy and a girl at a crossroads – she loved him with every ounce of love that she had to spare.

“I’m not a seer, Sebastian,” Saoirse started in a whisper as she raised her eyes from their joined hands to his eyes. “I don’t know what the future holds or even if I have a place in it.”

She faltered for just a moment. The very real possibility that this may be her last chance to say anything at all to Sebastian nearly caused her knees to give out.

What would you say if you thought you’d never see the person you love most in the world ever again.

“There hasn’t been a single minute since that night we spent in my bedroom that I didn’t think that this feeling,” she raised their hands up and placed them over her heart. It was fluttering at a dangerous speed, but she didn’t care, “would last forever.”

Saoirse pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and forced herself to keep her eyes on his face. Those blue eyes that she adored, the ones with the humor shining from them, were watching her so carefully. The volume of her voice dropped so low that when the bombardment of spells went off outside, she didn’t know if the words actually escaped her throat.

“Even when I thought that you hated me.”

She dropped his hand, but it didn’t take her more than a second’s beat to have him pulled against her, against the wall. Saoirse’s hands wrapped around his shoulders and she kissed him like it was the last time it was ever going to happen, because this was all she had. She held him so that he knew she never wanted to let him go. She poured every ounce of her fear, her love and her desire into the kiss.

And when she should have stopped for air as their lips melted together, she persisted.

Even when she became light headed from the rapid breathing, and squeezing her eyes closed so hard to try and emblazon the feel of him against her to keep this moment in her memory forever, Saoirse didn’t relent.

She couldn’t.

Not tonight.
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