Awkward Love

The night’s chill was crisp and heavy in the air, presenting the coming of a thick snow that seemed to be brewing steadfastly as though the sky was a witch’s cauldron. With a cloak wrapped around his shoulders and an arm curled around another, smaller form than his own, Theodore Rookwood hurried through the back streets of London towards his home beneath the sheen of icy rain that rapidly began to fall with certain, fierce vengeance.

The allies soon opened up, sweeping out before the figures whose feet splashed into the puddles that had rapidly begun to form between the irregularities of the cobbles. Their gaits widened as they took more than a step at a time and once beneath the porch overhang, they tore their hoods from their heads, their damp hair curling and frizzing wildly about their heads as smiles akin to childlike mischief alighted on their features.

The young man’s company had not been a choice he would have necessarily made had circumstances differed somewhat. Strangely, he found himself revelling in the head of auburn curls that spun like fire across the shoulders of the woman before him. His hands strayed, hoping within himself for blonde hair but found nothing amiss in the red that sprinkled through his fingers. His hand curled around the back of her head and as another found her waist, Theodore tugged her to him, his mouth covering her own.

At some point, keys were fumbled with long enough to find a way inside and once the door was thrown closed behind them, clothes began to be dislodged from their bodies, the dampness being torn away with every layer as their hands heated up the chilled, abused skin. Lust roved through Theodore boundlessly as he pulled away buttons, tearing at the clothes that hid the body of the woman before him. Once he found his access, his hands splayed across her skin like pronged jets of flame that saw her moan loudly in his ear, her fingers coming to tug on his dark locks.

Their ministrations took them up the stairs and into the bedroom where at last they collapsed over the footboard, tumbling onto the duvet, sending the cushions and blankets splaying this way and that. It was then, seemingly, when reality set in properly – when the event steered too close to the inevitable. In a flurry of clothing, his lover was turned out the way she came and suddenly the house was quiet, dark and cold.

Flicking on one of the downstairs lights, Theodore picked up his abandoned shirt and threw it on, pulling up his boxers a little more before moving into the kitchen. Hot chocolate was quickly brewed and as Theodore moved himself back upstairs, he found the house to be too large, too imposing and far too lonely for him to be sat in all night. He understood with faint clarity just why he’d brought home the woman in the first place. But now the hall smelt of perfume and it would take a good airing to get it out.

Eventually, after drinking the hot chocolate, Theodore crawled into bed. Sleep found him almost instantly but it was a fitful, restless slumber which did him no good come dawn when he finally rolled over, spent from the interlude with nothing left in him that would provide something in the way of sleep. Thus, Theodore rose to his feet, ready to greet the day ahead of him.

After showering and dressing, Theodore scoured the house from top to bottom as he was wont to do as of late. Once a suitable amount of time had elapsed, he set about making breakfast and it was during that time that he finally figured just what he was going to do in order to get his wife back. Granted, it was not as though she had been the one who had been ‘away’ – he had been the one who had left – but it was her favour which determined a lot of things and he was not going to forfeit being with her on the basis of a leg and two arguments.

The first thing had to be a letter which Theodore sent to Hallie’s work. It was short, barely consisting of a few lines which implored with her to join him for dinner and that if she chose to, the letter would turn into a portkey at five pm. He wasn’t optimistic but once the letter was sent off he had no illusions of turning back and he headed out in search of Valentine’s plunder and after purchasing some roses he also bought some pink blossoms and a few lilies, unsure as to what Hallie’s favourite flower was but deciding to cover all bases. Then it was off to the jewellers, the market and home again.

Dinner preparation began just after noon once everything was wrapped up and then, soon enough, the hours began to climb by towards the five o’clock time that Theodore had offered to Hallie. At around three minute’s to the hour, Theodore picked up his bouquets from the kitchen and the gifts he’d brought and moved to stand in the hallway, his eyes fixing on the mat where he was hoping against hope he’d find Hallie in a few tick’s time. If he didn’t…well, he wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to do.

With a new wand, becoming accustom to her new prosthetic and finally completing her first week back at work you'd have expect Hallie to be in a good mood. One great big bubble of excitement that she used to be. Of course today was valentines day, the day of love and earlier that day Hallie had received an owl from her husband. At first the witch had thought it would be a card, instead a letter had fell neatly into her open hands. It was a short letter, direct and to the point. Theodore wanted her to join him at his house, their house? His house. It was definitely his house.

It was surprising how a two line letter could affect Hallie's entire train of thought. Still getting used to her leg Hallie had been confined to the auror office allowing her to rest whenever she needed. Most of the week had been on mountain of paperwork but by Thursday she'd reached the summit leaving little else to do. The trainee was eager to leave the office, go out on call, catch death eaters but given her physical state and the fact she'd missed the winter training camp Hallie wasn't exactly going to be the first auror to be asked to do such a task. As a result Hallie found her self snooping into the case regarding Henry Yewbeam.

After ten minutes she'd found out everything there was to know: nothing. There was nothing in his file apart from the date of his hearing, which of course she was already aware of, and a list people to questions - Theodore being one of them. That brought her back to the letter.

By the sound of the letter it seemed Theodore wanted to sort things out, maybe apologise, cook her something to soften her sharp prosthetic edges. The question was whether Hallie was ready to forgive him, ready to accept his delicious cooking and succumb to his charm. A part of her wanted to, a part of her missed the warm she felt whenever he pressed a hand by her waist but a voice in her head told her 'no'. The blonde wasn't sure why but it seemed the right answer. No. Hallie wasn't ready to forgive. Theodore had willingly sacrificed her leg, not attempted to stop his Father from putting a price on her head, not even come to check up on her until the meeting to help the halfbreeds. In spite of that she had survived. She'd acquired a new wand (that certainly had improved her mood), her mobility was improving and Hallie was back at work.

At thirty seconds to five Hallie signed out of work and gazed down at the envelope that was leaning against a photograph of her Father and Toby. They weren't the only men in her life. Hallie has a husband, a purist bastard but still, Theodore Rookwood was her husband.

Hallie Caroline Rookwood. She couldn't hide from it forever, no matter how much angst and bitterness ran through her body at the mere thought of what she was. Taking hold of the envelope just in time Hallie felt a sharp hook wench her from the ground and then...

Brown eyes. Her blue had locked onto them as Hallie found herself in the hallway of Theodore's house. It certainly smelt different, clean, sweet. Was it perfume or air freshener? Air freshener masking perfume? Or was it flowers? Had Theodore gotten her flowers? She certainly did like flowers, even if they died after two weeks, but now the only thing Hallie felt was guilt. If Theodore was holding flowers behind his back then it would look well of her turning up in her works clothes, hair scraped back into a pony tail with nothing but a bag full of paperwork.

'Hello.' She said to him, neither frowning or smiling. It was time for Hallie to give Theodore a chance.

If someone felt like fiddling with time and placing a Theodore Rookwood from a few years prior in the hallway that evening then he wouldn’t linger too long, perhaps instead choosing to go and make up with the girl he’d thrown out of the house as quickly as he brought her home – wife be damned. That had, originally, been the idea. A mistress wasn’t an uncommon thing and at the time the idea had been appealing. He had told himself he hadn’t wanted to sully himself with Hallie anyway, the dirty blood traitor that she was. Of course, that wasn’t strictly true – or true at all, really. Thus, out his lover of the moment went, back out through the door she’d walked in with such open confidence a few moments before. If he had been any younger and anymore set in his bigoted ways, perhaps he would’ve bundled past with a different name on his lips. Instead, he was that much older and that much more liberal so when his wife appeared he remained rooted to his spot, her name forming on his mouth.

“Hallie,” Theodore blinked, bringing himself from his thoughts. He lifted the flowers from behind his back and smiled hesitantly before setting them down on the sideboard to his left. “I got those… uh, earlier. Um.” Theodore sighed, rubbing his hand over his forehead before placing the gift down beside the flowers. He turned, his figurative tail between his legs, and hurried down the hall into the kitchen, the door of which he kept open as he came to a hasty stop by the cooker. He took a tea towel off of the side and flung it over his shoulder, his fingers combing quickly through his hair as he knelt to look into the cooker.

“I cooked, too.” He informed her carefully, opening up the belly of the oven, checking on what was roasting away inside. After closing it up once more, Theodore straightened up and turned his gaze towards Hallie hesitantly. His hands wrung together before him despite his attempts at consoling his furtive temper. He didn’t want another argument. What he wanted was a truce or at least a ceasefire. He was sick of being alone and while he wanted to go to Cooper cottage, he had a feeling Amelia would’ve chased him out and if not her then Hallie herself. He didn’t want to rock the boat anymore. It was cowardice, though, to not face up to what he’d done. Regardless, he wanted his wife home with him.

“So, do you want to have dinner or did I get you at a bad time?” He asked gently, feeling a hasty excuse about to come his way. This was the last thing he wanted but he was not beyond another night home alone with nothing but a bottle of Ogden’s to keep him company. He’d done it for long enough now. What would another night hurt?

(OOC: Not sure about this post. It wasn't very good. I'm sorry.)

Hallie caught sight of the collection of flowers that he withdrew from their hiding place. She'd been right, the scent of lilies how had she not pinpointed them instantly? Their scent was overpowering. Hallie had never been a fan of them ever since her Mother always held them in a twisted glass vase that once resided on the study table. Perhaps that's why Hallie always hated the study? Even now she kept her distance from that room in the cottage.

'The roses are pretty.' She replied, dropping her bag to the floor to rest against the wall whilst she picked up the bouquet. 'Thank you.' A smile. It was the first smile since before the discovery of her amputation, at least the first smile to Theodore anyway. Initially smiles had been a rarity beneath the blue eyes of Hallie Rookwood. However, after her prosthetic, acquiring her wand and being back in work they were slowly, but surely, returning to fulfill their popular reputation.

Following her husband down the corridor and into the kitchen Hallie noticed how different he was. He wasn't behaving how he'd done after her amputation, nor how he had at the meeting for halfbloods. Both times he's shouted, tried to reason, told Hallie he'd never let her go back to work. It seemed Theodore wasn't going to argue with her anymore, unless he was saving that rant for later.

'It smells delicious.' Hallie said as she stepped into the kitchen, the aromatic scent from the briefly opened oven flooding her nostrils. Was it chicken? Or possibly duck? Whatever was roasting Hallie would surely love as she loved everything roasted.

'No that's a nice gesture.' Nice gesture? He was her husband not a random acquaintance she felt the need to be polite to, struggle to find words with. Hallie never usually struggled to find words but tonight was different, their was something unusual in the air around Theodore and Hallie. Neither of them were acting themselves, perhaps it was because of what the day represented: love. There hadn't been much love lately, was this the kind of interactions unhappy married couples engaged in nearing their ruby anniversary?

'I've had such a slow day at work I'm in need of some food.' The blonde added, taking off her coat and draping it across the back of a wooden chair.

Walking towards the sink Hallie plucked a glass from the drainer and filled it with tap water. The water was hard, limescale hazard and not nearly as pleasant to drink but she was parched and it was there. Besides, 'people in Africa have no water' her Mother had always reminded her.

'So what have you been doing?' The witch asked, hoping to try and keep the conversation both normal and civil flexing her leg as the prosthetic was beginning to ache.

(ooc: it's absolutely fine, your reply was good )

She should’ve known he didn’t like small talk. He was a Rookwood – it was basically written into his DNA. But of course, like with many things the law had skipped over, the act of getting to know each other had been left in the dust by the impromptu marriage and all of the other little things that had happened since like worrying after the school, his wife and then saving her from a madman – getting fired twice over was also quite a big one. The newspapers that he’d been perusing were, thankfully, hidden away in the living room because while he had been eagerly looking through them when he received them, he couldn’t bear to face up to how pathetic he was in the aftermath of the disappointment. He was highly tempted to put what he had into a degree and try and get something certified in terms of law. That had been his forte since he’d left Hogwarts and he was at a loss now he existed outside of it. He wasn’t sure he’d go back to the Ministry, though. Despite the pain the idea caused him, Theodore was actually tempted to do work in Muggle courts.

“Not much actually,” Theodore found his voice as he took the sauce he was making off of the heat. “Just, mincing around… it’s been quiet in all camps, really.”

Theodore carefully poured the sauce into one of the cream, ceramic bowls waiting by the side of the stove and set the pot back down on the top once he was done. Having wiped the bowl round with one of the tea towels, Theodore sent the bowl off to the table with a flick of his wand. He set the wand back down and he moved to the fridge where the steaks were waiting. He’d gone out especially for those and filleted the meat himself in order to save time on the part of the poor butcher who had been rushed off of his feet. Once the meat was on the griddle, everything was raring to go and Theodore took the homemade chips and no-so-homemade-but-equally-as-nice onion rings out of the oven. Once they, too, were set in bowls, they joined the sauce on the table along with some freshly composed salad and condiments to compliment it. Then, Theodore set to sorting out the steak and, soon enough, two joints each were plated up and set down on the table – like clockwork.

“There, sustenance,” Theodore smiled, taking the tea towel from his shoulder. He set it down on the counter and made his way back into the kitchen area to retrieve a bottle of red wine. Once the cork was extracted, two glasses were poured and set down with everything else. He’d decided to be frugal, unsure as to whether or not Hallie was still on any form of medication or not. A little bit of wine wouldn’t hurt if she was but Theodore didn’t want to harm her … any more than he already had done, that was.

Stepping behind his wife, Theodore pulled the chair out for he and tucked it in behind her once she moved to sit. Upon finding his own, Theodore felt something in him settle a bit and he peeked at Hallie up from under his lashes before averting his gaze and focusing on filling his plate.

“How is work, by the way?” Theodore inquired gently, trying to put behind him the fact that he’d sworn on multiple occasions that he wouldn’t let her return. Like with many things Hallie did, however, he had no control – he could only stand around and hope she didn’t end up killing herself.

Mincing around? What on earth did that mean, growing up in the north Hallie wasn't down with the southern lingo. Of course she had become accustom to it at Hogwarts when meeting people from places all over the country but the odd words she still had trouble with. That's another reason perhaps her and Theodore weren't mean't to be. They barely understood each other, literally as well as psychologically. Although it was many each others personalities that was thinning the string between them. Theodore didn't understand her reckless personality and she didn't understand him at times. He was a Rookwood and Rookwoods were confusing.

Hallie didn't bother to reply, she simply nodded and sipped her water in an attempt to draw herself away from the awkward silence filled with thoughts.

Theodore was like drinking a vial of confusion concoction. He said little but the little he said was more than thought provoking. 'It's been quiet in all camps.' What was that supposed to mean? His personal life? His family life? His work life? Had he managed to even get a job yet? Hallie was aware they had grown distant since her amputation but what sort of person didn't just speak their mind, update their wife? Unless his life had been stale, gone off bread with nothing to show but a stench and blue stains?

'It looks nice.' Hallie admitted, even if she never was one for onion rings. She'd eat them anyway, it was the least she could do seeing as she hadn't thought to buy him a present. How was she supposed to know he would, out of the blue, ask her to dinner on Valentines Day? The pair were practically separated, or they had been acting that way anyway.

Accepting her seat Hallie stretched her prosthetic out. She didn't like to wear it for too long and had half a mind to disconnect it to her leg. She was coping well, wearing it for longer periods of time and her mobility with the prosthetic had drastically increased. However there were times when a plastic leg was still a pain, both a literal metaphorical pain.

Quickly pouring herself a glass of wine to hopefully make the situation a little less uncomfortable Hallie noticed that Theodore had finally asked her a question. Finally.

'Oh it's okay.' She replied truthfully, pausing to take a gulp of the wine. Lovely. 'I've not really done much besides paperwork. I can't wait to leave the office though and do some practical work if only this prosthetic would become a bit more comfortable.'

Pause.

Hallie had mentioned the leg and little sooner than she would have liked. Taking the opportunity to fill her plate as a way to distract from her leg she prayed that Theodore would simply move on from the subject but if he did did that mean he didn't care? Or that he simply found it just as awkward as her? After all the leg was the reason the pair had argued in the first place.

'I got a new wand too.' Hallie added after filling the plate. 'I've not really used it much but I like it, whether it's as good as my old one we'll have to see but so far it feels... right.'

'The steak is good.' The blonde added after allowing the juices to smother her taste buds. Hallie always had been a fan of steak.

There was something moreish about onion rings and once Theodore started munching on them he knew he was doomed. Filling his boots always meant piling his plate high and during his childhood, what he’d filled his plate with had often been exquisite meals from far reaches that his mother had whisked him away to in an attempt at culturing her son. She had succeeded but he enjoyed home comforts like steak, chips and, yes, onion rings. No amount of expense could change his mind on the simple things and simple, this meal was. Once his salad had been nigh drowned in coleslaw and a hardboiled egg had been set in amongst it, chips joined his plate along with some beetroot, a roasted pepper which the oven had spat out of its belly and sent to the table, not allowing Theodore to forget it, and a mushroom before he finally opened up the stilton and dumped a large slice of the cheese onto his steak. Theodore consoled himself, also, knowing that if things didn’t go well with Hallie then there was a setting tiramisu in the fridge waiting for him along with a decanter of Firewhisky in the living room that was still untouched.

Had it not been for the choice of discussion, Theodore would have started with his steak. Instead he pushed the crumbly cheese off of his knife and he dug his fork into his salad, frowning a little at the plate before him as guilt niggled in his gut. He swallowed a mixture of lettuce, sliced tomato, a round of cucumber and some radish – all lathered in coleslaw – and managed, somehow, to keep the grimace from his face. Instead he chose to adopt silence, picking up his knife from where he’d rested it on the side of the plate to cut into his steak. He swallowed, though nothing passed down his throat – merely another round of guilt or perhaps rising bile which accustomed itself with the feeling he’d tried to avoid by seeking the bottom of his decanter and the warmth of another woman. The former was a much simpler distraction than the latter which presented a myriad of different problems for him even before he could ascertain whether or not to take it. He’d had a brush with his carelessness before – one he didn’t want to relive whilst married unless he absolutely had to.

Theodore wasn’t entirely confident he would be able to keep an easy temper if he rose to her absent chatter about work and her wand. He didn’t want to relive what had happened over Christmas. He certainly would have preferred to move on and figure out his cobbled path without the spectre of Henry Yewbeam and associates clouding his judgement. Joining the Death Eaters had ensured that judgement would be permanently clouded, however, and there was little that Theodore could do in order to wipe clear from his mind the aforementioned timeline that had elapsed over Christmas. He really should have filed for divorce if he truly wanted an extraction. From there he could have married another Blood Traitor or Mudblood and amused the Ministry however which way they wanted him to until it was all repealed.

“The steak is good,” Theodore conceded having finally just begun to dig into it. “Chips aren’t bad either. They could’ve done with a bit longer but they’re crispy enough, I think.” Theodore put down his cutlery and reached for his wine glass, swallowing a mouthful before setting it down once more, reaching back for his knife and fork. He found he had nothing further to say. He didn’t want to discuss the prosthesis. If he’d had his way, he would’ve just used a time turner, murdered Henry Yewbeam as an infant and then everything would’ve been avoided. Perhaps he would have been sat across from his wife as a happily married man – not one barely on the fringes of marriage with misery seemingly ingrained in his very soul.

“What’s your wand then?” Theodore inquired finally at a loss as to what to say further. He felt all of a tither and there was nothing left that could possibly be done to remedy that feeling beyond professing his love to his wife and whisking her off to bed to show her just how much he cared about her and that removing her leg had not been a spiteful action but, rather, one that had been committed because he loved her. Of course, the likelihood of that happening was slim to none. He was more likely to just lay down and cry, perhaps, or retire and go and drown himself in his decanter.

Nodding as Theodore agreed with her opinion on the steak Hallie ventured onto the chips. They were reasonably chunky, how she liked them, and not overly crispy. Despite disagreeing that the chips could have done with a bit more time in the oven Hallie simply nodded her head and continued to eat, helping herself to a handful of salad and taking an onion ring just to be polite.

Quickly wolfing the onion ring down Hallie reached for the wine and drank half of her glass. Onion had never been her favourite taste, it was always overpowering and left that bitter, tangy taste on her tongue. Thankfully the wine was good, reasonably high quality and certainly an aid in calming her nerves. Nonetheless Hallie continued to eat as she felt conversation had run dry.

At first it hadn't been too bad, the silence filled by the scrapping of a knife and fork and munching of the pair, but now Hallie's food was becoming closer and closer to an empty state it would soon be time to converse. Maybe go onto dessert - if Hallie had room for one - and continue to drink wine. The blonde had hoped for a conversation, figure out what went wrong and sort their marriage out. Valentines day was the day of love and, before the leg, Hallie had started to feel love for Theodore. She wanted that back, she wanted to work through their problems.

“What’s your wand then?" Clearly they wouldn't be having that conversation soon. No. Love was worth fighting for and if the Ministry kept their way then Hallie and Theodore would be together forever, sure the initial relationship was forced but it was an excitable feeling within the blonde that had kept the relationship going. Placing her fork and knife down on her unfinished plate noisily she stopped and stared at Theodore, her filter falling once again.

'No. I don't want small talk, I don't want forced conversation I want what we had.' Hallie was a nerve impulse, an all or nothing girl. Once her emotions had hit the threshold there was no going back. 'I want to be able to joke, for you to annoy me by calling me blondie. I want us to be able to engage in normal conversation, I want to get past this, this, this, this pause!' Clearly Hallie couldn't find the right word.

Standing up Hallie pushed herself from the table, her hip being above it ever so slightly.

'I lost a leg and I'm sorry I took it out on you but I don't want the rest of our lives to be about this darn, stupid-' Hallie had no began to fiddle with the prosthetic in an attempt to widely disconnect it. '-leg!'

THUMP. The prosthetic fell to the floor and Hallie, too,fell casually into the chair - more so than she originally would have when she first began to wear her prosthetic.

Not knowing what to do or what to say Hallie simply stared, her blue eyes burning with emotion yet glassy with the sparkle of a developing tear. 'I know we weren't perfect but I miss what we had, where we were going I.' Oh god, it was coming up could she hold it back? Yes, she would say something else, No -

'I think I loved you and now, now I'm scared I wont ever know for sure.' Wow. Way to carry eating calming and keeping her head down.

(ooc: I'm sorry but I couldn't handle an entire thread of awkward conversation, and neither could Hallie )

From an early age, Theodore had been privy to the futility of walking on broken glass with bare feet. Yet, despite himself he’d chosen to do so with Hallie in order to avoid any further confrontation. He’d elected to be dutiful and quiet – hoping that the cracks would smooth themselves over without much of his input. There wasn’t nearly enough left in the metaphorical tank for him to rise to a fight. His truest desire was to disappear, perhaps to bed, with his wife and hide there amongst the covers and the cushions until the world came knocking and refused to accept that they would deign to receive it in their own time. But of course, a certain number of hurdles would need to be jumped before that could even be considered.

For a man that loathed small talk, he’d certainly tried to conduct it – albeit with a certain level of failure. Nevertheless, Theodore endeavoured to make polite conversation with the stranger who wore his ring on her finger. He noted, guiltily, that it was ring, singular. He hadn’t ever proposed to her. He’d merely gone on grumpily with the farce of a wedding which had been a glorious day but not one he wanted to repeat in the same manner. He had hoped earlier on in the year that he could have perhaps made it up to her and he’d cast a critical eye over many of the jewellers he came across or made a special effort to visit in search of the perfect ring for his wife – or, err, perhaps fiancée eventually… then wife again. The likelihood of that actually happening in light of recent events, however, seemed small – miniscule, non-existent.

Theodore winced as the sound of the prosthetic hitting the tiled floor reached his ears. He averted his eyes from Hallie as the shame began to decorate his cheeks scarlet and he rose from his chair, picking up the plates from the table. He set them down on the counter and crossed to the fridge, taking the two ramekins of tiramisu out to set them down on the side. He bit his lip briefly, his eyes closing for a fluttering, fleeting second, before he turned and made his way to the back door, his hands pausing to pick up his cigarettes from the countertop before reaching the door which he abruptly wrenched open.

Lighting one of the cigarettes, Theodore took a moment to gather his thoughts. He could feel Hallie’s eyes glaring a hole in the back of his head and as he took the first drag he found that he didn’t have the words that would soothe her. He couldn’t smile and call her ‘blondie’ like she wanted him to. He wanted to, also, but he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t erase the guilt he felt with a couple of words and a chuckle or two.

“That night…I should’ve killed Henry,” Theodore began carefully, smoke drifting at its leisure out of his nostrils and from his mouth. “Should’ve turned everything on its head and tortured him. Hindsight gives you the benefit of a posthumous plan – posthumous to the events, of course. I know exactly what I should’ve done and how I should’ve done it. I know how I should’ve made him suffer – made him rue the day his mother had ever taken a second, passing glance at his father, should’ve made him regret his own birth. But I didn’t. I focused on you and I tried to save you and I dunno what I expected… gratitude maybe.”

Theodore turned the cigarette in his fingers, admiring the smouldering end before bringing its opposite to his lips. He flicked away the ash growing on the end after exhaling another chest-full of smoke and he turned his eyes absently in Hallie’s direction, ignoring the way his heart continued to twinge after her half-declaration of love. Something within him told him he should abandon his next gambit, wash his mouth out with wine and kiss her until neither of them could think straight for lack of oxygen. Something told him he should abandon all plans of telling her the truth, take her upstairs and make good on his desire to hide away permanently. He couldn’t, though.

“I could’ve left you there, if I had been anymore callous and self-serving. I could’ve walked away and waited until you turned up dead so I could go off, be a part of my family again and marry someone with a vault of gold who I’d upgrade when she started to go grey. Then I’d grow old and wrinkled and bitter and hopefully I’d die with a nice, young thing straddling my waist. That was my plan in life and you interrupted that. So Henry, thanks to my father, was my way out of this sham but, as we can both see, I didn’t take the golden ticket and Merlin… I don’t regret it, either.

I thought that perhaps I would. After the way you screamed blue murder at me… maybe… I hoped that I’d perhaps go crawling back to daddy and get him to sort out my problems like he’d hoped to do. Then I’d be a wealthy widower with everything to gain. But I didn’t want that. Instead I came home… here and I tried to put the pieces back together. My jigsaw was missing bits, though, so I busied myself with the usual things … Firewhisky, Firewhisky, Firewhisky … and tried to fix up the house. It’s mostly done now. A few paintings need to be restored for the hall but other than that, my life’s been peachy keen.”

Theodore flicked the cigarette out into the plant pot by the door and closed it behind him as he stepped back into the kitchen properly. After taking a mouthful of wine he crossed the room to retrieve the tiramisu and two spoons. He put them down on the table and sighed before endeavouring to continue, sliding into his seat.

“So I now find myself wracked with this impassable crisis of conscious because I did this stupid thing in your eyes – I made the call that saved your life. I’d do it again, too. I do believe I mentioned that. So really, it should be me who’s pissed off here,” a smirk started to creep onto his lips despite himself, “because I wanted to die at ninety - much to the emotional turmoil of my eighteen-year-old seventh wife and you ruined it, blondie. You ruined it because I’m so, bloody in love with you that I can hardly sleep. So there. You’re not the only one who came out injured. I don’t want seven wives. I want one. I want you. Are we clear? Now shut up and eat your bloody dessert before I throw it at you.”

Theo wasn’t one to waste tiramisu.

It was Hallie's turn to shift guiltily in her seat as she watched Theodore inhale the smoke from his cigarette listening to his lengthy response, there were parts where Hallie had wanted to interject, shout at him, call him, allow her heart to cry and shatter but she bit her Tongue and sat strongly making sure to carefully absorb each and every word that came from her husbands mouth.

Hallie herself knew how it felt to want someone dead, she'd thought the same thoughts herself. Unlike Theodore they hadn't been about Henry but the werewolf who had bitten Toby. To her he had no face, no personality but evilness. So many times a scene of him being tortured played in Hallie's mind before she had gone to sleep. Watched him wither in pain. Made him feel every ounce of hatred Hallie held towards him. She didn't want to kill him she had wanted to make him subject to torture until he no longer felt the torture. Then, then the time would come for him to die.

This feeling towards the werewolf was initially a way to transfer her guilt, shift it and discard her responsibility. Perhaps she hadn't felt the same as Theodore had because in hindsight she wouldn't have the werewolf tortured. Hallie had grown, matured and now knew there were more ways of destroying a man than torture and death. Hallie had accepted her secret only Toby Cooper and Jack Dyllan knew. One day she'd thought maybe Theodore would know but lately she'd assumed herself to be wrong. 

A lump in her neck had formed as Theodore spoke. Spoke about how Henry would have been his escape from her as though she was toxic, carbon monoxide slowly suffocating him. If that's how Theodore felt then Hallie would have mind to request a new partner, not for her own sake (although she did deserve to be loved) but for Theodore. He had this whole fantasy life planned out. Funny how things never turn out how you'd expect. 

Did Theodore think Hallie had planned to love a pure blood supremacist whose Father put a price on her head? Did her husband believe that she'd envisioned a life as an amputee? As a little girl she'd wanted love like her parents had, to walk down the isle after a man had gotten down on one knee. She wanted children, not right now how the Ministry Desiree, but she wanted them one day. Hallie had wanted to wave a teary goodbye as Robert and Isabel boarded the Hogwarts express. As she had grown up the man waving goodbye besides her changed. At one point it resembled a man like her Father, then after Toby had vanished it had been Henry Yewbeam. Falling in love with him had been fresh air, oxygen once again filled her lungs and took her from the darkness. Henry may now only be the man who held her hostage but he'd returned joy to her life and because of that he was in a better place now, or she had been. Her life now was a mess, she hadn't asked for this just as much as Theodore hadn't asked for a middle class half blood. 

The words hit her like a moving train, they came out of nowhere. Theodore had spent his rant expelling every possibly reason why he would not want to be with her, not want to be waving goodbye to their children then... 'im so bloody in love with you'. Unsure how to take this news Hallie obeyed and took a spoonful of dessert. 

Clang. Hallie couldn't take it, she couldn't sit quiet and eat her dessert as she wished. Her spoon was on the table and her glassy eyes pressed deeply into Theodores.

'I'm sorry that I'm everything to didn't want. I'm sorry that the Ministry partnered us together. I'm sorry I won't be seventeen forever and I'm sorry you fell in love with me and I'm sorry but can you at least replace the wine with some firewhiskey?' Hallie blurted out, her eyes full of passion.

In spite of everything that had happened, everything that Theodore had just said to her, right now in this moment in time all Hallie wanted was to wrap her arms around Theodore and feel his body against hers. They may be arguing because she demanded him to leave because of her leg but right now, for the first time in a month, Hallie had momentarily forgotten she was missing a leg.