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ravenelyx · 1 year

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Arranged Heartbreak - Sebastian Sallow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem! Reader

Words: 15k

Warnings: angst, fluff, courting, pining, cute but also very sad, Sebastian is so in love it's ridiculous,

Summary: "He felt a sudden urge to lean in, to kiss her and show her that all this courtesy and proper behaviour meant nothing to him. He just wanted her. He just wanted to be hers." Falling in love had never been easy. Falling in love with an upper-class muggle-born? A recipe for assured heartbreak.

A/N: In a way, self-indulgent (if ykyk). English is not my first language, so I apologise for any mistake. The perfumes described are also based on real perfumes (Miss Dior, Trussardi, Tom Ford - Beau De Jour)

Masterlist

you can find the whole fic also here on A03

Act I

The first time Sebastian met her, they were in their fifth-year.

She was new: a transfer student from Italy with foreign relatives, at least from her father’s side. The circumstances weren’t quite favourable, though, as the reason for their first meeting was Sebastian being a good friend after Ominis wronged her, and trying to mend the ties between the two of them.

When Sebastian dared to ask his friend what the reason for their disagreement was, the blond only blushed in embarrassment, before uttering two simple words that made his breath hitch. “Women’s rights.”

"I'm sure I can charm my way in as always," Sebastian replied confidently after the blond expressed his own doubts. "Just tell me where you think we can find this Miss ____."

“I think I know where she spends her time when not in the Common Room,” Ominis said grimly, as he began to lead his friend through the corridors. “Thank you, Sebastian, but I must warn you… she’s very stubborn. You might not be able to convince her so easily.”

"Anything for you my friend." Sebastian smiled, completely ignoring the last statement, and followed Ominis around as the blond, he realised after a few minutes, led him towards the Library. He smiled despite himself as they entered the familiar place and started scanning for anyone whom he didn't recognise.

As they turned a corner, he stopped abruptly. At the end of the aisle stood a girl pacing back and forth with a tome in her hands, frowning slightly as she read through the pages.

Sebastian immediately noticed the typical Mediterranean features, such as the curve of her hips that appeared from time to time as her robes swung around her body with each step, her olive-toned but flawless skin, and her big, deep eyes adorned with long, thick lashes.

He felt his breath catch at the elegance with which she moved, not exactly confident per se, no — on the contrary, the way her shoulders slumped a little and her legs stayed close together with each step showed a complete lack of the usual poise purebloods usually had. She moved like a Muggle, but her steps held a commensurate regality to her family's supposed high esteem, and the way her head ducked slightly toward the book told him that she had been prepared for more in life than holding a profession in the wizarding world.

"That's Miss ____? If only you could see her… you would've fallen to your knees during the argument." Sebastian leaned in to whisper to Ominis: his tone was definitely teasing but there was some wonder in it.

Ominis nudged his arm, letting out a bashful laugh. “I can easily sense it as well.”

Sebastian looked down at him, and at the wand glowing red in his hands. It never failed to fascinate him.

“You better keep your wits about you. She nearly bit my head off and no matter how many times I tried to retort, she always seemed one step ahead.” The Gaunt boy sighed and then gave the brunet a small knowing smile. “I think she's already got you wrapped around her finger though. You can't blame me for not falling for her, I never did have that much of a thing for romance.”

"Is that so?" Sebastian teased him, stealing glances at the girl and noticing the way her bottom lip slightly disappeared under her top one every once in a while. "Well, I'll go get your forgiveness and perhaps..." He trailed off with a slight smirk, now taking a long, not-so-subtle look. "Your blessing as well?"

“I’m no priest.” Ominis let out a small laugh. “She’s really got a hold on you, hasn’t she? I can only wish you my best of luck. And if all else fails, you have my blessing to give up.”

"Oh, really? Always glad to know I can count on you.” Sebastian rolled his eyes and nudged his arm. “Watch me, then."

He fixed his collar and took a deep breath, before approaching the girl. "Hello, are you Miss ____?"

The girl looked up from her book, surprised. "That's me, how can I help you?"

She stared him up and down, her eyes piercing through him, whether willingly or not, he couldn’t tell.

“I’m Sebastian Sallow.” He greeted. “I’m a friend of Ominis, I’m sure you’ve met before. He had mentioned you as a transfer student from Italy. Beauxbatons, I suppose?”

“Ominis, you said?” She repeated, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance. She discarded his question and her eyes narrowed. "Came to mock as well, have you then?"

"Certainly not," he said, trying to maintain a friendly cadence in his voice. "I'm here on his behalf in fact. He has, well, in his own words, done you a great disservice, and I'm here to ask for your forgiveness, should you be willing to hear it.”

She quirked an eyebrow at that, and he suddenly was all too aware of his own breathing. He continued nonetheless.

"You must excuse his manners, his views can be... rather narrow-minded, as you can see. And not of his own volition." He paused for a moment, trying not to take his eyes off hers. That would not look very assertive in a situation like that. "If you want to hear me out, I mean. I can understand if you don’t think he's worth your time."

"I see he is so contrite that he had to send you to atone for his mistakes instead of fixing them on his own." She said sarcastically. "Me and Ominis Gaunt have nothing to do with each other, he had made his stances pretty clear and our conversation ended hours ago."

Her tone was full of distaste and he bit his lower lip, trying not to grimace. "That's fair," he sighed slowly. "I wouldn’t do anything differently in your position, frankly. I will not force you to do anything, Miss ____, I know how valuable a person's time is. Just know that Ominis does feel remorse, even though he may not show it at the moment. He just needs time."

"I don't believe in apologies, Mr Sallow. I believe in actions." She said sternly. "And in cowardice."

His heart gave a slight jump at the weight of her words, and he definitely should have defended his best friend's honour better, but as a breach of trust, he felt a small smile creep onto his face.

"You know, I like you, Miss ____," he admitted, surprised at himself. "You're not afraid to tell people the truth. And I agree with you: Words mean nothing if they aren't followed by actions. I can assure you that Ominis is ready to show his remorse. You need only tell me what you'd like him to do, and I'm sure he'll comply."

"Mr. Sallow, I appreciate your willingness to help your friend," she said tersely. "But the offended shouldn't be the one to tell the offender how to make amends."

Damn, Ominis wasn't lying, the boy thought to himself.

"Good point." He admitted with a small smile. "You're right, he should be the one to prove his sincerity. If he can't think of anything himself, then he's just showing he doesn't mean it."

She nodded in agreement, not letting her guard down. “Is that all, or is there something else?”

"Do you think you can forgive him if he finds a way to make reparations?” He asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. He was actually impressed with how the girl handled the whole situation, especially because he had to stifle a snarky remark to Ominis himself after the latter had told him about their conversation word for word. He had expected her to be a bit more spiteful, given she was the offended party here.

"If he demonstrates that he has truly changed his mind and shows it with his actions, not words, then yes... I'm willing to forgive him."

"You are very reasonable. Most people would not be willing to forgive so easily, if at all," he admitted, and his voice was full of genuine admiration. He glanced around, his eyes falling on her book, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled slightly.

“Well, it’s no use holding grudges when they’re repentable. It’s neither wise, nor reasonable, as you mentioned. Would that mean I’m both those things?”

"Oh, it definitely does. After all, it takes one to know one," he answered with a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You're a rare gem, you know that, Miss ____?"

She gave him a small, almost contemptuous smile. "Flattery won't make me forgive him faster, Mr Sallow, I hope you know that." She closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

"I did not expect it would," he replied with a smile of his own. "But I did not lie. You're a very sharp young woman. You know how the world works, and you're not afraid to speak your mind. That's a rare thing and it's what makes you so... unique."

“Unique, you say?” She flashed her eyebrows, amused.

"You're like a lighting bolt through the fog that lights up what's hidden in the middle. I envy that."

She raised an eyebrow slightly as his attempt to a simile. "Lightning cannot travel through the fog. It will disperse in it through the water droplets.”.

“Alright, keep your scientific knowledge above me.” He rolled his eyes, unable to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks at his failure. She shook her head slightly.

“Everyone should learn how to live in this world, and many people are afraid to speak their truth in fear of judgement from others. I don't believe we should annul ourselves to fit in with other people." Her fingers lightly touched the covers of the books resting on the shelves. He followed the motion.

"Unless..." She gave a small smile. "It can benefit us."

"You're quite the philosopher too, aren't you?" He couldn't help but grin. "A better philosopher than I am a poet, I can see. 'Know thyself', as that old Greek philosopher said. Your ancestors must've passed down such a trait, I can't imagine anyone with Italian ancestry has anything but deep thinkers within them."

“You mean Socrates?” She commented, amused. "I guess that's a trait only someone with a romantic background can have. As seen by your poetry.”

He turned his head away for a moment with a dampened smile. “We do also have some exceptional poets, though, don’t we? Even Muggle poets aren’t that bad.”

“Ah, yes. I love me some Shakespeare," she said with a hint of irony a small smirk playing on her lips.

“I think Chaucher is pretty good, as well. He wrote some classics, too. I loved the Canterbury Tales,” he retorted, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her, awaiting. Sebastian found himself wanting to impress her. Why, he had no idea.

“I prefer the Decameron,” and there was her prompt answer as she gave him a playful grin.

His heart skipped a beat.

“I see what you’re doing there.” He smiled impishly. “Can’t blame you, though I haven't gotten around to reading it yet.”

“Then I suppose you should start at the source," the girl shrugged, tapping over the hard book covers.

He glanced at her delicate hand and the repetitive movement, enchanted, then turned back to her. “You read a lot of books, don't you?”

“Enough to keep up-to-date.”

He couldn't help but chuckle, feeling a little more seen than his comfort usually allowed him to be. "Is that where you get your sharp wit from?”

“I prefer to think of it as an innate ability, but I suppose a few more fancy words to expand my lexicon won’t hurt.”

“Fancy words, eh? What for?"

“You can accomplish much more with an adequate parlance in certain situations than with all the gold in the world," she explained toughtfully, her voice clear and proud and a little teasing. There was the philosopher again.

“Ah, I see. Is that what you’re doing now?” He couldn't help but ask, not tearing his eyes off hers. And her eyes were particularly enchanting, he noted, with various flecks of colour gleaming in the soft warm light of the Library toarches. And perhaps—

“Am I charming you, Mr Sallow?” She interrupted his thoughts and he dearly hoped no unwanted extra pigment made its way through his cheeks.

“I want to trust that my spirit is stronger than that.” He cleared his throat. “So, that’s what you meant by benefiting from other people?”

“Sometimes we need to pave our own way to reach a point, other times it's better to... steal a ride from someone?”

"Very wisely said," he replied with a little laugh. "So, how would you... steal a ride?" He continued thoughtfully. "I see no other way than to be true to oneself. If your goal is to reach a point, wouldn't it be better to forge your own path rather than take someone's? At the risk of sounding arrogant myself."

"If a path is already paved and it's the shortest way to your goal, it would be a pity not to use it." She looked up at him. "To be true to oneself doesn't mean to be hubristic, Mr Sallow."

"I admit you have a point. If one wants to get to a destination as soon and with as little effort as possible, the path of least resistance is the best, but at the same time, aren't we meant to overcome adversity and find our own path? I find that much more rewarding than simply following in someone else's footsteps."

"For example, your friend Ominis sending you to beg for his forgiveness instead of doing it himself?"

He couldn't help but chuckle softly at that. "You're quite the sharp one, Miss ____. It’s becoming rather impressive."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise and he gave her a small smile in return.

"I suppose I'm the hypocrite here, aren't I?"

"Quite," she smiled as well. "But you should go back to him, he seems quite on edge in that corner." Her face fell at the sight of the other boy. "Anything else I can help you with?"

"You really have me cornered," he said, his eyebrows raising in amusement. "I'm beginning to realise I'm not nearly as clever as I think I am — or maybe it's just that you are cleverer. In any case, you're quite the conversationalist." His eyes crinkled at her. "I have nothing more to ask right now. Except..." He took a small step forward. "Would you like to meet sometime… and talk some more?"

"Now who's the blunt one, Mr Sallow?" Despite that, she gave him a small nod. "But sure, I suppose I don't hate the idea."

"I'm glad. You seem like someone I would like to keep as a friend."

"Ah, so it's a mere question of convenience," she said teasingly. "Tell your friend Ominis that he has to work harder for my forgiveness, but I suppose you haven't made his mistakes, yet, so I can accept the idea, Mr Sallow."

He scoffed playfully at that, before saying: "You can call me Sebastian…”

“Can I now?” She flashed her eyebrows at him and shook her head. “I suppose the Wizarding World works differently. All right, Sebastian it is.”

He frowned a little, noticing she didn’t reciprocate his courtesy to use her first name. “Good. And for what it's worth, having you for a friend wouldn't just be for my convenience," he said, amused. "So?"

"I suppose I can grant you that privilege." The corner of her lips raised slightly in a teasing grin. "Now I'll leave you to your friend, it seems like you two have a lot to talk about."

He laughed softly, his eyes following her as she walked past him. "Privilege, is it? You make it sound like charity."

In that moment, he realised he liked being teased by her: it never felt mean-spirited, and he found himself hoping that encounter would only be the first of many.

"Wait!" He called after her a moment later. "One last question, if that's alright?"

She stopped, a bit surprised, and turned around. "What is it?"

"You mentioned earlier my friend Ominis should have a way of making reparations if he was serious about forgiveness. I wouldn't want to impose," he asked, "but could you at least tell me where he stands?"

She looked at him for a second, before sending him a charming smile.

"He stands on the edge of a cliff," she simply said, before turning around again and leaving the Library.

And he knew he was done for when he felt an amused smile pull at his lips as he watched her go.

Act II

The first time Sebastian truly realised his feelings for her was during their sixth year.

He sat in the dorm with Ominis, the latter immersed in yet another book about feminism: the only books he had read since the disagreement. Not that he had much choice, because as soon as Sebastian noticed the pages running short in the blond’s alabaster hand, he would go and fetch him yet another book from the same section.

“Do it for me.” The brunet always said, and Ominis had no idea what exactly that did for him.

Nor did he know if the world-weary sighs coming from his fellow Slytherin were directed to how slowly he was reading this last book, or to something else entirely.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?” He finally asked, putting his own red-glowing-and-not-in-a-knot wand down and closing the book.

“Nothing.” Said the other boy nonchalantly, as if his suspires hadn’t become gradually louder in an attempt to annoy the blond enough to make him pay attention to him.

“Is it her?”

Ah, of course he knew.

“No.”

But Ominis knew exactly what he was getting at, and frankly was done with his antics, so he decided to ignore him again.

Sebastian’s eye twitched at the silence. His hands began fidgeting the more the other boy didn’t indulge him, and, despite his efforts to stay in control, in the end he gave up.

“Fine. Yes.” He yielded, groaning loudly and letting his hands thump on the mattress for good measure. “It’s her.”

“What about it?” The Gaunt boy asked tiredly, expecting Sebastian to go on a tangent on how she had bested him at Defence Against the Dark Arts again.

But Sebastian’s mind was far too preoccupied to care about his reputation as the best duellist in school.

“I want to court her.”

Ominis stopped in his tracks, his pearly eyes widening as his friend’s words sank in.

"You... You want to court her?" he asked, his heart skipping a beat.

Of course, he knew the Sallow boy had shown some… softness around the new student. And that he seemed to think of her with higher regard than others. But never would he have imagined the words ‘Sebastian Sallow’ and ‘courting’ in the same sentence — unless he thought of him as best-man for his sister Anne. Despite the brunet’s pleasantries and quips about the new student, Ominis had always taken them as what he thought they were: jokes.

But now there he was, choking on his breath as Sebastian confessed his true intentions with the girl he apparently had been really crushing on during that last year.

Still, no matter the seemingly distressed state of his friend, he couldn’t help but tease him as good mates usually do.

"After seeing how you two interact with each other, she'd chew you up and spit you out, and then she'd curse you for not having done a better job. Still, I suppose it's the thought that counts.” He gave the brunet a small smile. “I won't dissuade you from pursuing her... just maybe think twice before you do, alright?"

"Well... thank you, it's good to know you have my back." Sebastian scoffed sarcastically. "Are you sure you're not trying to dissuade me from having her so you could woo her yourself? I thought I had your blessing.”

Ominis couldn't help but give an amused laugh at his statement. "Not even I can play that dirty, Sebastian. If that's what you want, I won't stop you; I'm just warning you not to set your heart on it if you can't handle the rejection. Not only is she beautiful, in your words, but she is clever and quick-witted, too: not an easy combination to seek the hand of."

“If my attempts at romancing her are anything like your attempts at getting her forgiveness, then I’ll surely be sporting that rejection soon.” Sebastian sighed loudly once more. “What should I do? Should I buy her flowers? Chocolate?”

“Flowers usually do the trick,” Ominis replied thoughtfully. “Perhaps you could get her something sweet as well.”

"But... But what are her favourite flowers? Or worse, what if she doesn't like flowers, or chocolate for that matter? What if she prefers white chocolate and I get her milk chocolate?" Sebastian was clearly starting to panic, and Ominis’ lungs couldn’t help but replicate those weary sighs, too.

"Does anyone really dislike flowers?" Ominis asked rhetorically. "I'm sure even if they're not her favourite, it'll show you're putting in effort.”

Sebastian nodded, listening intently and basically hanging on Ominis’ lips as if the blond was about to reveal to him the universal secret of auspicious courtship.

“As for the chocolate, I'm sure she'll forgive a little mistake: just pick the best you can afford and you'll do just fine. But," Ominis added, a smile returning to his face, "you should try to get to know her tastes a little better first, before you bring her any kind of gift. Have you not learnt anything during all this time you have been friends?"

“We don’t usually talk about flowers.” Sebastian replied indignantly.

“Right, right. You’re more keen on blasting each other to pieces in a duel. Both mental and physical.”

Sebastian smiled fondly.

“Or, to be precise, she blasts you.” Ominis added, amused.

Sebastian’s smile disappeared.

“You’re no help at all.” He turned away from him on the bed and sighed deeply again. "All right, so: tomorrow, I'll approach her after Potions, and ask her if she wants to go to Hogsmeade… Or perhaps I can partner up with her during the lesson?"

"You really are desperate to get her attention, aren't you? Well, both seem like good plans. The latter has the extra benefit of giving you more time to spend with her with no room for unwise wand usage,” Ominis laughed, “and might make more of an impression when the Hogsmeade visit comes around."

The next day, Sebastian managed to sit next to her and get partnered up with her to brew the Wit-Sharpening Potion.

"Use a knife to cut off two pieces of Ginger Root and add to the cauldron until the potion turns green, then add Armadillo Bile. Sebastian, could you cut the root while I get the Armadillo Bile?" She asked him, arranging the ingredients on their worktable.

"Sure thing," Sebastian replied, his heart beginning to pound a little. “Is that what you drink everyday to keep your wits about?” He joked with her as he picked up the knife.

“Oh, yes. Perhaps you should try it. The bile sure adds to the taste.”

He made a face as he added the Ginger Root. “I'd rather be daft, then.”

She laughed and moved back next to him. As she got closer, he couldn't help but notice her scent: it was flowery, intoxicating, and he realised for the first time how beautiful his friend really was.

"Is it me," he asked, his voice a little unsure, "or do you smell like... Lily-of-the-Valley? What's that perfume you're wearing?"

"Oh," she was a bit taken aback. "It's Centifolia Rose, but it does have some lily notes. I brew the perfume myself. Do you like it?"

"You... You made it yourself? That's impressive, truly," he said in awe, a wide smile breaking on his face as he blushed slightly. "It's an amazing scent. It's hard to describe: it's like a spring garden, full of blooming flowers. I like it very much."

He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before choking on his spit as the foul smell of the potion mingled with the fragrance.

She laughed as he began to cough. “Yes, the perfect spring garden.”

“Oh, stop. I was trying to compliment you.” He nudged her arm as he cleared his throat from the fumes, before speaking again. "It must be very time-consuming, though. How did you learn to do such a thing?"

"Thank you, Sebastian, that's really kind." She said, adding the bile. "I always found wizard perfumes to be a bit too strong for my taste, while high-quality muggle perfumes are a bit too expensive, so I decided to learn by myself." The potion turned blue just like the instructions said. "I used Centifolia Rose as the main ingredient. Then I embroidered it with Lily-of-the-Valley notes, apricot, Peony, and Iris."

"It's all really feminine," he said softly, the blush still colouring his cheeks. "It really suits you. You're certainly very skilled, and I have to say: that's a very impressive knowledge of ingredients and aromas to combine. I could barely distinguish the scent of Lily-of-the-Valley, let alone the others, but I'm sure that's part of your charms as a witch, is it not?"

He sent her a small glance, quirking an eyebrow, and she shook her head mirthfully.

"And as someone who knows so much about scents, how do I smell like to you, would you say?" He continued, never tearing his eyes away from the girl.

She hesitated for a second at his request, and looked up at his excited face before giving in and leaning closer to his neck. Sebastian's heart skipped a beat, a small smile gracing his lips as his breathing hitched slightly.

"Lavender and Cedarwood..." She paused, leaning a bit closer. "And a tinge of Rosemary."

“That's... lovely." He said, his voice barely a whisper as he still felt the heat of her breath on his skin. The world seemed to still around them, and even his heartbeat fell silent to his ears at her proximity.

"It's a lovely scent indeed," she agreed. "I've never made a man's fragrance before..."

“You haven’t?” He asked, shocked. “Not even for your close family?”

She shook her head. “My father isn’t fond of perfumes himself: he prefers to only use soap.”

She then smiled, a hint of pride in her eyes. "I've made another I really like, though — almost as much as this one. I mainly used Italian tangerine and neroli. Then I combined lavender with jasmine and white dahlia, and at the base, violet and patchouli essential oil. I feel combining fruit and flowers really brings out the best of it, especially when adding essential oil to really consolidate the perfume itself. I gifted it to Poppy earlier this year.”

“You have to let me smell that." He said with a smile. “Your skills never cease to impress me. How do you even know how to combine all the ingredients perfectly?”

“It’s an art, and it took me a long time to master.” She admitted, blushing slightly at his compliments. “I guess that's why I'm good at Potions."

With a last stir, the potion turned a perfect, bright orange.

"That's incredible." Sebastian’s eyes widened, taken aback as he stared at the cauldron.

"You are an exquisite perfumer: in fact, I think you must be one of the best in the world." He broke into an elated giggle as he sang his friend’s praises. "And an excellent potioneer as well!"

"I wouldn't go that far… But perhaps I could make you a perfume, too. Not that yours is bad…” She quickly added, averting her eyes. "I could actually use those same ingredients and make something out of it, if you're alright with it."

At her mere suggestion, his heart began to race, and the sudden rush of blood left his cheeks feeling hot to the touch.

"I— that'd be wonderful," he said, struggling to find the words to express himself. "I would be honoured to have it. You're a very special person, you know that?"

She smiled. "We're friends after all, Sebastian, are we not?"

He nodded with a grateful smile, and while Professor Sharp collected their phial, she began muttering in Italian about the best ingredients for his perfume.

“Lavanda e rosmarino… e muschio, forse?”

His blush only spread as he heard her speak in her native language. It sounded like she was singing: Her voice was soft, melodic as the vowels seemed to flow with each other beautifully. Sebastian had never heard spoken Italian before: Sure, he had found it in books sometimes, even attempted to read it, but never had he had the pleasure to hear it. Until now, as he was shamelessly staring at her with his mouth agape.

"Friends," he repeated, his voice soft and his heart racing, his blush ever-so-present on his cheeks as she kept muttering under her breath, "but maybe, one day, we could be… more than that?"

But she didn't seem to hear that last part as she began to put her stuff away and smiled brightly at him. "I think I'll have it ready for next week, how does that sound?"

He snapped out of his trance as he met her eyes. "That sounds perfect. Thank you, truly”.

No amount of words could describe what he was feeling, as he watched her move in that elegant poise he noticed the first day, as he saw the small smile dancing on her lips and the excited glint in her eyes, as he noticed her hands trembling a bit when she grasped her book. All he knew was that he was falling, falling deep, falling at each word she said, at each gesture.

And he didn’t mind it at all.

"Then consider it my gift to you." She gave him a wave before exiting the classroom.

Sebastian smiled back, letting his eyes linger on her figure until she disappeared from his sight.

Then his heart jumped in excitement and he could hardly contain himself as he walked — ran — to Ominis.

"Did you see... well, hear what she said? Our conversation? That went well, right?" Sebastian said, laughing to himself in disbelief, his heart pounding in his chest as he lightly bounced on his feet like a kid with a new toy. "Do you think she really wants to make me a perfume? That is… insane. Wonderful. It’s like having her, only bottled up and carried with me forever."

“Hold on now,” Ominis shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips, “You really do have more than a crush, don’t you?”

“Well, obviously. I had already told you about my intentions.” Sebastian rolled his eyes, but no matter what, he couldn’t shake the smile off his lips, not the elation coursing through his veins.

"I can positively say that I've never seen you like this." Ominis said, tilting his head. "But you must have made a really good impression to receive a gift like that."

"Shall I take that as a hint I can court her? Maybe ask her to Hogsmeade next week?"

"That's not a hint, that's an order," the blond teased him, and Sebastian began to bounce on his feet again, unable to stay still.

"Should I ask if I can call her by her first name? I mean, she calls me 'Sebastian' after all, and it's been almost a year since we've become friends… don't you think it's time?"

"I don't know about asking for a first name basis: after all, different cultures require different approaches." Ominis said thoughtfully. "Do you know what flower you'll ask her out with? I remember reading that Muggles tend to communicate their romantic intentions using the language of flowers. No one wants to show up to a date empty-handed, right? Though I suppose with her skills as a perfumer, she may be the exception when it comes to flowers in general."

"I... I don't know..." Sebastian's eyes moved around, seemingly searching in his brain for an answer. "She said the main ingredient of her perfume is centifolia rose, so perhaps I could go for that... but she also mentioned lily of the valley, which is the first flower I mentioned when smelling her perfume, which could be more of a hint related to us both…"

Ominis nodded and went to answer, but was interrupted before he could even take a breath.

"Maybe a whole bouquet?" Sebastian's eyes began to shine. "With all the flowers she mentioned and then some?"

"That sounds very thoughtful. It would mean an awful lot to her I'm sure." The blond smiled at his friend. "Are you nervous?"

"Yes..." Sebastian replied, taking a deep breath.

"It'll be fine. Just be yourself."

Almost an entire week had passed after that conversation and Sebastian was absolutely stressing out. He had asked her to go to Hogsmeade that weekend as planned and, to his surprise and elation, she had accepted.

The day of Sebastian's planned date had finally arrived and he was turning in front of the mirror, sporting a nicer garb than usual. While the brunet was always well-kept, the green sack coat and his matching grey vest were something very unordinary for the rather casual sixth year.

"Ready to win her heart?" Ominis asked, leaning against the wall as Sebastian huffed and grunted. "You're going to make a great impression, and swipe her off her feet."

Sebastian blushed deeply as he took the bouquet he had prepared for her. His heart was racing: what if he made a fool of himself? What if she doesn't feel the same? What if the bouquet is too much?

"What if she doesn't like it?" Ominis teased his friend, as if reading his mind. "Don't you worry. You've put a lot of thought into your gift and she will definitely notice. You also bought a new dress just for her. Any woman in the world would be lucky to be on your arm today, and I assure you she'll feel the same."

Sebastian nodded, still nervous but feeling a bit better at his friend's words. Ominis could be a tease sometimes, but he knew when Sebastian wasn't in the mood to be poked fun on and only needed genuine encouragement. And that was one of those days.

"Wish me luck." He said as he left the Common Room and headed for the tree near the lake. His hands were sweating in anticipation and anxiety as he held the bouquet close to his chest.

And then he saw a figure approach him and his heart jumped in his throat.

To say that the girl looked stunning would be like telling the sun it shines. An euphemism of the highest ungraciousness.

She wore a lilac bell skirt which delicately hugged her hips, and tucked in was a matching bodice with small gigot sleeves laced with white embroidered frills and ruffles. She wore no gloves, nor a hat, as he knew Muggle women liked to do. Her hair was tied in a seemingly messy up-do — which Sebastian knew actually took a long time to achieve, as he had seen Anne spend hours in front of her vanity mirror attempting to recreate that same hairstyle for future occasions — with small curls framing her face near her ears.

He felt like a wreck, his nerves burning all over his body, but he was at least composed enough to greet her with more than a flustered smile and an awkward cough.

"M-Miss ____..." He said, bowing gallantly at the waist. "You look... exquisite. I must be the one to feel lucky today, to be in your company."

She blushed deeply, chuckling a bit at his exaggerated greeting. "You also look… very elegant today, Sebastian."

His stomach seemed to flip and he averted his eyes, which then fell on the small box in her hands. "Might I carry that for you?"

She smiled, handing him the gift. "You can carry it... because it's yours."

Her eyes twinkled with both pride for her job and perturbation at his reaction. She had carefully wrapped the gift in a velvet green foulard: the small bottle was transparent, with a green top ribboned in silver lace, the colours of Slytherin. "I had promised I'd make you a perfume, and there it is."

She watched as he opened it, twisting her hands at the centre of her hips.

When the wrapping came off fully, his jaw dropped.

"This..." He whispered, running his fingers over the bottle. "This is wonderful. Thank you. Do you mind if I try it on right now? You know me, I could never resist a new, lovely scent."

"Of course, it's made just for that after all." She smiled. "Now you can look dashing and smell good all the same."

"Well, I'd like to think that my dashing-ness is a natural feature, but I'm all for smelling good as well."

He opened the bottle carefully, and sprayed the perfume on his wrists. Immediately, he smelled the Lavender, and an earthy, homely scent. Something that actually reminded him of Feldcroft, of the summer days he spent with Anne and Ominis, when the latter visited to get away from his family. It smelled like home, and it came from her.

"This is... incredible. How do you do it?" His eyes were wide in pure delight, and his expression showed nothing but admiration for her skills as a perfumer — and for the care she had put in a gift for him.

She grinned at his reaction and averted her eyes. "It's a fougère fragrance. I used Lavender as the main ingredient: it's very popular among men's perfume and it's the first thing I noticed in Potions class... then I laced it with herbs such as Rosemary, Basil and Oakmoss, and I tied it all together with Cedarwood. It's a very earthy scent..."

"That's all a little beyond my expertise," Sebastian admitted sheepishly, his cheeks tinged red. "But it really is quite amazing; you're very talented, I can't stress that enough. I'm so grateful that you made this for me.

"I must do something to repay you some day. Are there any scents you like? I know this shop in Hogsmeade which sells amazing essential oil. Anne used to go there all the time."

“Aromatica, you mean? It’s one of my favourites.” She smiled. "I have a vast collection already, but thank you..." She stepped closer and gently grabbed the small bottle from his hands. "May I?"

His mouth went dry and it seemed like his breath had completed its journey long before its usual end. He nodded, swallowing loudly. “Of course, Miss ____.”

She lightly sprayed the perfume on the curve of his neck, and his heart raced, and his skin felt warm, and her smile felt like a gentle caress, and her eyes…

He felt an overwhelming urge to be even closer to her.

"Please, you can use my first name, and..." She looked up into his eyes. "How about that bouquet you're hiding behind you as a 'payback', hmm?”

A blush crept across his face. Her first name. She had granted him the permission to use her first name. He smiled widely, his heart doing all sorts of somersaults in his chest.

"I'd be delighted to, if you'd like me to call you that." He laughed quietly, and stepped closer, finally revealing the bouquet with a sweep of his hand. "For you."

Her smile widened and, as she saw the bouquet, her eyes did too. She seemed to be at loss for words and his hands trembled in anticipation at her reaction. She took the bouquet carefully. "You... This... There's every flower I've mentioned for my perfumes... how did you remember all of them?" She looked up at Sebastian in wonder. "This is beautiful, Sebastian, thank you." She smiled up at him, her eyes twinkling with gratitude.

"It's nothing at all, the flowers are too beautiful not to remember them," he said, grinning from ear to ear at her reaction. "And they all have such unique meanings. I’ve read a bit about the ‘language of flowers’ Muggles use. They’re very special. Like you."

She linked her arm with his as they began walking to Hogsmeade. "I’m special? How so?"

"Well, you're very intelligent and articulate, not to mention very beautiful, I must say," he said, grinning sheepishly.

"You're also really kind, and I've never met someone so... I can't really describe it, but when you look at me... well, you make me feel special, and I..." He took a deep breath, his hand opening and closing nervously at his side as he forced the words out. "I— I think I feel something for you."

She smiled and averted her eyes, and Sebastian could see her cheeks redden. His heart tugged and he bit his lip to contain his own excitement. Maybe it wasn't a mistake.

"So... The walk to Hogsmeade, the flowers, the compliments and your confession... Sebastian, is this courting, perhaps?" She teased him.

"I... yes. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, and…" He blushed slightly at the feeling of her hand on his arm, and a small giggle escaped him. But then his eyes lit up as he registered her light tone. "Does that mean... you'll allow me to court you?"

"I... I do, yes."

She pulled his arm even closer, and a wide grin spread across his face. His hands were trembling, and he tried to suppress the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms. "Well then... Would you like to have dinner with me tonight, in Hogsmeade?"

She looked up at him in wonder. "That would be nice, yes."

They walked together for a bit, enjoying the sound of nature around them, the occasional carriages and the forest creatures which sometimes peeked curiously through the trees, before she finally spoke. "I… I don't know much about 'wizard courtship' and how different it is from Muggle one. For instance, if we were Muggles, I would need to be chaperoned. I couldn't have been walking with you and you alone."

"Really? You're not allowed to have private conversations without supervision?" He asked, his eyes wide in surprise. "What happens if you don't obey and have a private conversation? Do you get 'chastised' or something? Tell me more."

"People would consider me unworthy of respect, and think I’m doing... inappropriate things, thus ruining my chances for marriage," she rolled her eyes. "That's why I'm so adamant about women's roles and feminism, and it's the reason I got so angry after Ominis' statements."

Oh.

"Hmm... that is a strange custom I must say, it seems very... restrictive. It makes me sad to think people would see you as anything besides a wonderful, independent young lady." He said thoughtfully. "What would they think if they saw us walking together now? I'm holding your arm, and our conversation is certainly private. Does that mean we're already courting in the eyes of the Muggle world, no dinner nor flowers required?"

"If they just saw us walking, they would think we're already engaged, or that we're related." She gave him a faint smile. "If they were to find out we aren't, we would both be 'thrown onto the streets', as they say."

She paused for a moment, taking in her surroundings. "It is also unethical for a man to be interested in a woman unless he was wealthy enough to marry her on a predictable date.”

"That means men must be rich before they can court you?" Sebastian asked, as if the idea were ridiculous. "That can't be how a union is meant to happen — that’s absurd. The heart knows where it wants to go, regardless of matters as insignificant as social standing and wealth. Isn't that what matters the most?"

"Usually, the middle class has more... freedom. They can marry for love, although the father of the woman has to approve of the man first. Most upper class, instead, are bound by arranged marriages, although there are some exceptions." She sighed, squeezing his arm closer. "And yes, no woman can go out with a man without a married woman or perhaps a brother following them. There's also no concept of dating, Sebastian, and the mere use of a first name could be misleading people into thinking you're my fiancé."

"Oh... So, a woman is not considered independent? What would happen if she were to act without her father's permission, does the law punish her somehow, or is it just a social custom?" The light dawned on Sebastian's face. "And, if the father approves of her marrying someone, how is that very different from arranged marriage? Do women not have a choice?"

"The woman has a choice to refuse, yes, but the price sometimes is worse than the marriage itself: disappointment from your parents, ostracization, repression, some even end up in… well… abuse..."

"Abuse?" Sebastian paled, his voice louder than he intended it to be. "In a marriage? That is cruelty, or madness... How is such a thing even legal anywhere? It is despicable."

“I’m telling you this, because… well…” She sighed. "My parents ought to know nothing about this, about us, until we either stop seeing each other or you decide to marry me... I'm sorry, Sebastian."

His breath caught, but he nodded nonetheless, reassuringly. “I won’t tell a soul.”

"The wizarding world is more lenient, is it not? And I'm a witch. Muggle-born or not, I'm a witch and I plan to live in this world."She looked up at him with a determined but hopeful spark, and took a trembling breath.. "I won't go back to that, I won't be thrown into an arranged marriage, I want to be free, I..."

"You're right, of course you are," he said, gently squeezing her arm. "You aren't alone. If... if anything happens, I'm here for you. Even as a friend, I promise I won't let it come to that. I would do whatever I can to make you happy, whether that means getting you away from Muggle society or something else... I just want you to feel safe."

She smiled up at him and unlinked their arms, only to wrap hers around his neck, pulling him into a hug. Sebastian was taken aback, his breath catching in his throat, but then wrapped his arms securely around her as well, as her warm body pressed against his, his mind still racing. She smelled like the flowers he had gifted her, and that hug felt like his own personal paradise.

"You're special, you know that? Thank you, Sebastian. Only..." She pulled away to look at him. "Don't even think about doing something drastic should it ever come to that point, like marrying me or something. Your freedom is yours."

"M-marry you?" He stuttered, the idea slowly forming in his mind at her words. Could that… Would that be a solution? "I didn't even think about it... why would... Is... is that what you want? I don't want... I just want to do what makes you happy."

She smiled reassuringly. "I don't want that, Sebastian. I want to do things the... wizarding way, if so to speak." She sighed. "I want to keep being your friend, to know you properly, to maybe… fall in love."

A wave of relief flooded him at her answer. He was ready to throw caution to the wind and throw everything away if he thought it would make her happy, but she didn't. He felt a smile play at his lips and he hugged her again.

"That's... exactly what I want, too," he said, kissing her forehead lightly. "I could never do any less."

She smiled, closing her eyes briefly. "You know what else isn't appropriate in the Muggle world?" She teased. "That hug and you kissing my forehead."

She let out a brief giggle and Sebastian smirked back at her. The sound of her chuckle was so sweet and carefree; he couldn't help but enjoy it... as much as he enjoyed her.

"My, my, I'm being so improper," he said, amused. "That was almost scandalous, wasn't it?"

"Very scandalous. You should just hold my arm while we walk, with a married woman following us everywhere to ensure we don't overstep." She smiled, teasing him back. "I'm certainly not allowed to call you Sebastian or hug you and get the chance to smell that beautiful perfume I made for you and that, by the way, mixes really well with your skin."

Sebastian chuckled as she spoke, his heart jumping for the umpteenth time. He had to make sure not to have a heart attack by the end of the day.

He felt a sudden urge to lean in, to kiss her and show her that all this courtesy and proper behaviour meant nothing to him. He just wanted her. He just wanted to be hers.

He pushed the thought away, but the idea still lingered at the back of his mind; it still sent waves of heat flowing throughout his veins, and his ears burnt red with the prospect of it. We are in public, Sebastian. He reminded himself.

He had never kissed anyone, and, judging by her words, neither had she, and he wanted their first kiss to be special, romantic and beautiful. Not in the middle of a street: That would be shameful, and he could never live that down.

"So," she stepped away, linking their arms again. "About that dinner you were speaking of..."

"Oh, of course!" He said, realising his mind must have drifted for a moment. "Perhaps the Three Broomsticks? I'm not sure what kind of food they serve, but it is the most renomated place in Hogsmeade after all."

He looked down at her and smiled, glad for the distraction — not that those thoughts about her had gone away.

"Is a place like that proper for courtship, or shall I find a more... suitable restaurant?" He laughed lightly, “it doesn't really matter to me, so long as I get to sit next to you."

"If it's comfortable, then it's appropriate to me." She smiled. "And the Three Broomsticks sounds nice, thank you."

He smiled down at her fondly. “Shall we go?"

She nodded and they walked together, enjoying the chat and the evening.

Ominis waited patiently in the comfortable silence of the dorms, another book in his hands as he waited for his friend to return, and after a few hours, Sebastian did indeed return.

The blond heard him as soon as he stepped on the stairs, his strides loud and excited as he skipped over to the entrance.

"Ominis!" His friend yelled, opening the door loudly, and the Gaunt boy couldn't help but grin excitedly.

"What is it?"

The smile on Sebastian's face was radiant, and his eyes lit up when he spoke. And he told his friend everything.

"That was..." The brunet paused for a moment at a loss for words. "It was wonderful. The food was nice, and we sat and talked, sharing jokes and I made her laugh! More than once! It was just... perfect. We spent all our time discussing our favourite subjects, our ideas on things, our fears, our aspirations. There was even some hand holding."

"Hand holding?" Ominis asked, surprised.

Sebastian blushed and nodded. "Yes... I know it's not usually proper, but... we even hugged, and I kissed her forehead, and she told me everything about Muggle courtship, and..."

"Kissed her forehead, Sebastian, you rascal, you—" Ominis' jaw dropped as he stared up in his friend’s direction in awe. "You... you kissed her, Sebastian?" He said in a breathless chuckle. Sebastian blushed profusely.

"Not— Not on the lips, of course."

"Yes, of course..." Ominis said with a smirk, his voice warm with amusement. "But, still... That is wonderful. I can literally hear the joy in your voice. I'm so happy for you, Sebastian, but seriously: try to refrain yourself."

He shook his head and pretended to tut, but despite his playful banter, he sounded almost like a proud father. "How does she feel about you? Is she as... intrigued?"

Sebastian blushed even more.

"I-I think so... She initiated the hug." He paused pondering.

"And, in a way, we talked about marriage," he suddenly added, unable to stop himself, "but not in the way you think."

"Marriage?" Sebastian's revelation made Ominis blink in surprise, and his brows furrowed. "In what way, then, if I may ask? I don't want to make any false assumptions."

"She... She told me about Muggle culture," Sebastian said, his tone now serious. "And the role of women in it, and it was so… oppressive, Ominis. She talked about women not being allowed outside without a chaperone, about how 'dating' doesn't exist and men and women can only meet in the prospect of a future arrangement, and… How... How her parents ought to know nothing about our encounters, because she is upper class, and..." He trailed off, his chest suddenly feeling too heavy. "That's why she was so unwilling to forgive you after the comment you had made."

"O-Oh..." The blond said, his voice sombre and guilty as he remembered his old conversation with the girl. "Is there no one who could help her? Nothing we can do?"

"That's when we talked about marriage..." Sebastian whispered. "I said I'd do anything... anything to ensure she won't have to be... sold to someone who doesn't deserve her."

Ominis was quiet for a long moment. He felt his stomach turn as he pictured her being trapped in a loveless marriage, a marriage of convenience to please her parents rather than for her own sake.

"Would you..." He whispered, his heart beating faster and faster in his chest. "Would you marry her, Sebastian? Just to protect her?"

"I..." The brunet choked on his words and gulped, his mouth dry. "I... If it means she will be fine...

"But… But she understood, and she told me not to. That my freedom is just as valuable, and… She told me she wants it to be natural, to fall in love, maybe even with me, but her family… she's upper class, after all." He repeated.

Ominis felt his heart sink. "If her parents get their way… they’ll sell her to an aristocrat for their own benefit, and she'll be forced to spend a miserable, loveless life...”

Sebastian didn't answer. Instead, he put his head in his hands, his eyes burning in their sockets with unspilled tears.

"I'll keep her here," he whispered. "In the wizarding world, where she doesn't... doesn't have to..."

Ominis immediately heard the sniffles in his voice, and slowly stood up to sit next to his friend. He spoke delicately, weighing each word. He knew Sebastian must feel so helpless, broken, not only because it was clear that, after spending the last year being best friends with the girl, his feelings had mutated into something more than a crush, but because she was still extremely important to him, love or not.

"That's not the way it has to be," The blond said. "There must... there must be a way to fix this."

Sebastian shook his head but didn't trust himself to speak. He leaned into Ominis embrace and real tears started to fall from his eyes.

There was no solution, nothing to do. There were only two choices: leaving her to her fate or alienating her from the Muggle society and her whole family. Ominis didn’t say a word more, letting his friend cry on his shoulder. The injustice left him feeling sick.

"I promise to you," he said, his tone warm, calm and soothing, "there will be a way. Maybe not immediately... but we will figure something out."

Sebastian spent the whole night tossing and turning and crying, and the next day, he awoke with sticky eyes and a swollen face — not to mention the heavy feeling in his chest. But he'd have to put on a brave face for her, he'd see her in class, that much was certain, and he couldn't show her that her condition made him suffer.

And for a while he did. For a few months, he was able to smile and laugh with her, to take walks with her as she fed the Thestrals. He was in awe every time: people hated those creatures, and even he, the first time, was on edge when she took him into the forest. But that was only one more beautiful trait he would sell his soul to have near him.

And as time went on, he started feeling hopeful. They were nearing the end of the school year, not to mention their legal age in the Wizarding World. The age where they would finally be allowed to use a wand at their discretion outside of school. The age when she could finally be free.

Act III

The first time Sebastian got his heart broken was at the beginning of their seventh year.

He had spent the last few weeks counting the days until her birthday. It was still months away, but that did not stop his heart from leaping with excitement at the prospect of her turning seventeen. Of her freedom.

And she was too perfect not to be free.

He had come to that conclusion that summer when he had invited her to stay in Feldcroft.

Of course, it was Anne who had to meet with her father to make sure no injudicious business was going on. It seemed the Sallow twin had enough of a silver tongue to convince an entire aristocratic Muggle family to let her daughter stay in their house. Adequate parlance, he recalled.

Sebastian had spent that week basking in the presence of the object of his affection in his very home. He made sure she did not have to lift a finger while he hosted her at his place, but as usual, she got her way most of the time,and was constantly out and about doing something to help around.

Most of the time, however, she stayed with Anne.

She had made Anne a simple perfume as well, using flowers from the meadow around the farm, not to mention the wide range of essential oils the brunette had bought from Aromatica in the weeks prior to the girl's visit.

The house never smelled better.

Sebastian would walk in after a day of helping around and studying new spells to find the two girls engrossed in an activity here and there.

She taught Anne Muggle embroidery. She had sewn her a small handkerchief. She had braided her hair with flowers.

It was not difficult for him to imagine a whole life that way.

That week was his personal idyll, and he wanted to believe it his near future as well.

When she left, he had to spend some time getting used to her absence, and that was nothing short of agonising, especially throwing his twin's teasing into the mix, but one thing gave him more hope than anything else: the fact that, perhaps, he might not have to get used to her absence in his home.

When he returned to Hogwarts for his seventh year, he made sure to spend every appropriate moment with her. They studied together, he let her play with his hair, they duelled — and she won, again and again, as she always did — and talked. They talked. A lot. But not as much as he imagined. Because Sebastian Sallow was always imagining lately.

Every time he looked at her, he imagined.

He imagined a ring of white gold on her finger, engraved with their initials. He imagined her telling him that yes, she wanted to marry him, her neck adorned with those embroidered white frills that weren't seen contrasting lilac that time. He imagined her in his arms, telling him with her beautiful, radiant smile that she loved him. He imagined and imagined until his brain was too small to fit any further, and he didn't want it to be just a fantasy anymore.

But with it came the nightmares, seeping through the empty spaces of bliss in his mind, plaguing most of his nights, when he felt his heart tearing in his chest.

That night was one such.

Sebastian had spent it tossing and turning and breaking out in a cold sweat as he saw her being ripped away from him. As he saw her say yes to another, albeit behind empty eyes and hollow words. As he saw the complacent smiles of her parents as she brought even more wealth into the family.

“No!” He awoke with a jolt for what seemed to be the hundredth time that month and looked around desperately, as if asserting that, once again, it was only a nightmare. That she was still there. That she could still be his.

Ominis was awake already, and looking in his direction with the same concerned expression he grew accustomed to lately.

“I’m okay. Just a nightmare.” Sebastian quickly got ready, not bothering to do his tie properly or wear his perfume. And that, he never forgot.

When he reached the Great Hall, he couldn’t help but search for her in the crowd of students. He needed to see that she was still with them. Still safe.

“Sebastian.”

He turned around with a jolt and she jumped slightly in surprise.

“Are you alright?” She asked, examining his exhausted face.

“Of… Of course.” He replied, rather unconvincingly, but he hoped she wouldn't ask any more questions. The last thing he wanted was to worry her any further. So he diverted the conversation. “How about you?”

She shrugged, holding up a piece of neatly folded parchment. “Post.” She simply said. “I’ll read it later.”

He nodded, his lips dry and an uneasy feeling in his chest. Post this early?

“I’ll see you later, all right? I’m starving.” She waved and turned in the direction of her table.

“Wait, who… Is it from Anne?” He stopped her, holding onto a glimmer of hope. Maybe he was reading too much into it and it was only his twin reaching out to greet her and ask her if she would spend Christmas with them in Feldcroft. His sister could do with some more company after all.

“My father, actually.” She turned the letter in her hands.

He swallowed thickly, that glimmer going out as soon as it ignited. He forced the words out. “You— You don’t think it’s about… that, right?” He asked in a feeble voice, choking on his words.

She narrowed her eyes a bit, just as she did the first time they met. “Is that why you look so… dishevelled today?” She tilted her head. “I don’t want to worry you, Sebastian. Promise me you won’t think about it anymore.”

He faltered, and it took a while for his neck to move in what biasedly resembled a nod, for which he appeared totally unconvincing. She sighed deeply and averted her eyes before walking away.

Sebastian's gaze followed her figure and his breath quickened. For some reason, he was panicking, more than usual.

“Why is your breathing ragged? Is it because of the nightmare?” Ominis asked, furrowing his brows.

“Yes… Probably.” He replied, not taking his eyes off the girl.

He tried not to let his mind wander too much, taking a deep breath and following Ominis to the table — not that he was hungry anymore. In fact, the mere sight of food made the pit of his stomach close painfully.

Sebastian spent a few minutes staring at his eggs, before he ran his hands through his hair desperately. His eyes searched for her at her House table, then in the crowd of students leaving and entering the Great Hall, but her figure had vanished before his eyes in a heartbeat. His face fell.

"She... She's not there anymore." He whispered to Ominis. "What if this... ruins my chances? What if I broke her trust? What if, now that she knows I'm worried sick, she won't ever want to see me again to spare me?"

Ominis' breath caught in his throat at Sebastian's words, but he forced himself to calm down, to give Sebastian a pillar to lay on as his mind already braced itself for the worst.

"I'm sure... I'm sure that if you explain yourself, she'll understand." He tried to comfort his friend.

Sebastian didn't say anything and instead stood up abruptly to go find her. He needed to find her. There had to be a solution, anything he could do for her while also not showing that her condition made him suffer. He didn't want to lose her, neither her friendship nor her future to some aristocrat. He wanted to court her, to be with her, to openly love her.

After about half an hour of searching — with the help of various ghosts, students and the infamous Revelio Spell — Sebastian found her alone, reading at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, seemingly oblivious to her surroundings. She seemed to have found some small nook hidden from view that no other students seemed to know about. Sebastian would go as far as saying she had made it herself.

He stopped at the entrance of it and leaned against the compact dirt and rocks on the side, staring at her thoughtfully for a while.

Just the sight of her made him feel better.

A slight smile spread across his face as he watched her hold her book carefully. No one could have the heart to hurt her, he thought. How could anyone possibly do such a thing?

Sebastian studied her for a while, not wishing to make any sudden moves and scare her. After a few minutes, though, he stepped forward, walking slowly, silently, until he was no more than a few steps from her, and finally spoke.

"Hello," he said quietly, a small smile on his face as he took a seat next to her. She looked at him, a bit startled, but did not try to move away from him like he feared she would.

"Sorry about this morning," he looked at her apologetically, his tone holding a hint of awkwardness. "Can we... talk, for a minute or two?"

"How did you find me? This place is pretty hidden..."

"How did I find you?" He said, a slight chuckle escaping his lips. "You know me. I know every hidden place in this school and around. Being sneaky is part of my genetic makeup."

The thought was intended as humour, but she didn't smile at his joke, and he realised his attempt fell flat. His smirk disappeared, replaced with an apologetic small smile.

"But you are right. You are not that easy to find..." He let out a breath, looking out over the Forbidden Forest. She didn't answer.

"So, I have to ask..." He whispered, his voice soft, his body tense like a chord as he tried to diffuse the awkwardness. "What are you reading? Something good?"

She looked down to her book as if reading the title for the first time. "Little Women... It's a muggle book"

"Hm. And what's it about?" he asked, his head cocked to the side curiously.

"It talks about four sisters growing up and struggling with their place in society as women." She sighed. "Quite fitting..."

"Ah…" He nodded thoughtfully, feeling the familiar anxiety rising once again at her words. "Would you say it's a good read? Are you enjoying it?"

She handed him the book musingly. "I've read it more than once, you can read it if you want."

Sebastian took it, hesitantly, and ran his hand over the well-worn pages as he looked down at it. It was clear the book must have been quite old. He slowly opened it, examining the faded print on the edge of the cover, feeling the old paper beneath his fingers. When he read, he always did so with care, turning pages one at a time, as if he feared they would tear his hands. He began to read, the gentle rustling of the pages quickly mingling with the light rustling of the leaves in the breeze. It was a pleasing and comforting sound.

She stayed quiet, staring blankly at the ground as he silently read. Her mind felt empty, and it was like her whole body was melting. She wasn't all there, that much was clear. It was like her usual self was trapped somewhere far deep in her brain with no way out. Sebastian immediately noticed the way she seemed to almost ‘fade’ as he read next to her, and a familiar sense of concern rose up in him. He wanted to reach out to her, to do something to take every pain away from her, to take her in his arms or hold her hand. However, he forced himself to resist: he would wait, for now, for her to speak, if and when she wished to.

He finished the chapter, closing the book carefully and returning it to her with a small smile. "I have to say, that's very well written. I was completely hooked."

She nodded. "You can borrow it, if you wish..."

Her voice was monotone, with no emotions in it. It lacked the usual cadence and musicality, her usual modulation. It sounded empty, and it hurt him to hear her like this — it scared him, in a sense. Something wasn't right, that was clear.

He wanted to say something, to help, but he didn't know what the problem was, and thus he didn't know what to do. And so he stayed quiet, deciding to go a different route. His voice lightened a little, trying to sound more cheerful: maybe that would make it better?

"How many books do you have? I'd certainly be willing to lend you some… or… or I could borrow some as well, if you’ll have me."

"I have plenty." She whispered. Her eyes shifted around aimlessly as she played with her bracelet, seemingly grounding herself to reality, to the conversation, to his presence.

"You have plenty?" He repeated, a small, reassuring smile dancing on his lips. "Well, you did mention you were quite the avid reader. You are my best friend after all, aren't you? And there aren't many things that I enjoy more than reading... and good company, of course." He paused for a second, his eyes flickered towards the girl, and then away. "Which do you like more? The reading or the company?”

But at that point, Sebastian was basically talking to himself. She had stopped playing with the bracelet, losing her hold on reality in the meantime. She was trapped in her mind, far away. And she didn't answer.

He looked over at her lack of response and a chill washed over him as he looked at her. What is happening? He thought, panic rising in his chest, his heart beating fast. He stayed frozen in his place for long, painful seconds, his mind racing, before he reached out slowly, taking her hand in his.

"Okay, talk to me." he whispered. "Tell me what’s wrong."

She didn't move, nor registered the feeling of his hand in hers, but she heard herself speak, like it came from far away. "You're not wearing the cologne," she said slowly. "The one I brewed for you."

The sound of her voice, so soft and hollow, was heart-wrenching. When she spoke, it was as if a cold hand had gripped his heart, clutching it tightly. And the emptiness of her voice nearly undid him entirely.

He let out a small laugh: sad and hysterical, like the voice of a man whose life was crumbling apart. He felt as if her pain was his pain, and he just wanted to make her feel better.

"No," he said quietly, "not today."

But as he saw her sombre expression, his heart sank even more, and he felt the need to quickly add: "I still have it. It's my most prized possession… I've just forgotten this morning because… Well, I was in a rush, sort of. Forgive me."

She only nodded, her eyes casting downwards. She felt so tired, like her body was on edge and too calm at the same time. Like part of her wanted to jump out of her skin and leave. Leave that place. Leave everything behind.

"Can I ask?" He asked quietly, reaching out to touch her cheek lightly and turn her head towards him. "What... happened? What has come over you? You weren't like this an hour ago."

He looked directly into her eyes, trying to see beyond the nothingness of her gaze towards her true feelings, the feelings she was trying so hard to keep buried, but her vacant eyes broke his heart. "It's scaring me. Please..."

She blinked a few times, thinking, before she slowly reached into her bag and took the letter she had received that morning, handing it to him. The letter was wrinkled and there were a few dried tears smudging the paper.

"I'm officially off the market." She said emptily.

A sudden wave of realisation hit him, stopping his heart on the spot as he took the letter with shaky hands. A horrified look spread across his face. No. Please no.

"Wh-What?" He whispered, trying to control his voice, so that he wouldn’t break into a sob right there and then. It was like one of his nightmares. One of those bad dreams that kept him up since the start of the school year. It couldn't be real. It couldn't be happening. It had to be just another delusion.

"Your father... your father…" He took a deep, strained breath. "Why?"

"I'm his only daughter," she said blankly. "I knew it would happen sooner or later. I just wish I could have found a solution before it did." She looked at him, her eyes still unfocused. "I'm sorry, Sebastian. It seems like I won't have the choice to love you after all."

Those words cut directly through his chest. The shock of those words, the sudden burst of panic as he saw his greatest torment take shape right before his eyes: it felt like he had been punched directly in the heart, like someone had reached through his flesh and snatched the throbbing muscle fresh out of him.

"No," he whispered, a sob escaping him without his control. "Please... please..."

He grabbed her, unable to hold back for another second, and pulled her into a tight hug, holding her close as he felt his heart break, its sharp pieces sticking in his lungs with each tear.

"You can't mean that." He sobbed, his voice breaking. "You can't."

She rested her head on his shoulder, as he cried. Slowly, she hugged him back. She had already shed all her tears, so the only thing she could do was let him do the same.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I really liked you… I need you to know that."

He wanted to be strong. He wanted to be there for her, to comfort her, to be the shoulder she could cry on. But in the end, the hopelessness he had been feeling every night became more real to him, and her body was warm against his.

And he broke.

His body trembled as he kept her close, wishing that, maybe, if he held her close enough she would be safe forever.

He cried for a while, his face buried against her shoulder, his body wrecked by sobs. And with each of them, the pieces of his heart ripped at his dreams, the white gold decaying before his very eyes, and her arms wrapped softly around him only compounded the pain he felt.

"You can't…" He whispered in her neck, almost deliriously. "You can't leave me."

When he finally stopped crying, he looked down at her. She didn't look like the girl he knew. The usual light in her face had gone, replaced with pure hollowness, and his heart broke all over again. "It's... it's alright," he whispered earnestly, wiping his tears. "I— I understand."

She nodded, cupping his cheek in her hand and wiping his tears. "Keep that book for me, okay?" She whispered, resigned. "I think... soon enough… I'll be made to leave Hogwarts, too, and… and perhaps the country as well."

He closed his eyes, the last remaining drops falling from his eyes and onto her palm. Leave Hogwarts. Leave the life she had known all these years.

Leave him.

The thought of not seeing her at all ever again made his stomach twist excruciatingly.

"Of course," he said earnestly, his voice soft and gentle in the silence that followed. He kissed her forehead, like it was the most precious thing he had ever known and rested his own on that same spot right after.

"I'll look after it. I promise." He smiled sadly, looking at her. "I'll keep it safe with me, alright? In my room. And if you..." He was unable to finish the sentence, the thought of her leaving too much to bear. Another small sob made its way past his lips and he felt his eyes well up again. "If you ever need anything... you know you can come to me, right? No matter where you are, you can still come to me…"

She nodded and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Tell Ominis I forgive him, okay? It doesn't do well to hold grudges. And..." She paused. "Sebastian... promise me you'll wear that cologne."

Her proximity, her nearness to him, caused a fluttering feeling in his chest, like at least two of the thousand pieces of his heart found their way to each other again.

"Of course. I..." He said, his voice cracking. "Don't... don't be silly..." He tightened his arms around her in a hug, tears rising in his eyes once again. "I'll wear the cologne, alright? For you. I promise."

"Good. I worked an awful lot to make it for you." She let out a soft chuckle. "Thank you for inviting me to your house this summer. I really wished it could have been you... if anything."

There was a constant, painful weight in his chest, and a burning feeling in his throat, a lump so big it seemed to reach his lungs, too. He tried to swallow that pain back down, not wanting to burden her with his own feelings anymore, and let out a heavy sigh. "I wish it could have been me too."

The words had only just left his mouth when his breath caught in his chest. He hadn't meant to say that. Not like this. "I— I mean..."

"I know." She smiled, taking a big breath. "If we were older, maybe… I could've stayed here… away from those traditions, away from… a man I don't love."

There was a stab in his heart again as he rested his chin on her shoulder, and suddenly nothing mattered to him anymore. Nor her father, nor the Muggle world, nor the very concept of society. All that mattered was her, and the ring he was going to buy for her one day. "I won't let you do that," he said resolutely. "I don't care about your stupid traditions. I won't let you go."

"Sebastian. I… I'm still sixteen. I don't have a choice."

"Then I'll make one for you. You said it yourself: steal that ride, remember?" He said, caressing her cheek. "If a path is already paved, you should use it. I'll pave that path for you. I'll give you the life you deserve. I'm— I'm— I'll find a way."

And he swore he saw the gears in her brain turning behind her beautiful eyes. "If by any chance I don't leave Hogwarts…" she bit her lip. "I'll have to begin my courtship now, yes, but by tradition, I can't be wedded until I'm at least twenty-one."

A glimmer of hope made its way through the cracks of his nightmare. If she could delay her marriage, they could still get away. Make a life in this world. Be free.

"Maybe I can ask Ominis to talk Professor Black into it. You know their families share ties," he said.

"I'm a Muggle-born. Neither the Gaunts nor Headmaster Black would care, I— I'm not important to them."

"That doesn't matter." He interjected, both his hands now on her cheeks. "You're important to me. You're so much more than blood or… or tradition. I don't care if your whole family hates me, I don't care if the whole muggle world hates me. I'll find a way. I'll do anything to make you happy."

Her eyes widened in wonder. "For… For me? You can't do that, Sebastian, you—"

"I can and I will." He said, raising his voice slightly. "I'll do whatever must be done. I will protect you. I will find a way to keep you here. I refuse to let them take you away from me."

She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes. Finally, she started to cry as she covered his hand on her cheek with her own.

"I… I can't thank you enough, Sebastian I…" She gave him a small, quivering smile. "Never had someone cared so much about me…"

His heart fluttered and he caressed her cheek with his thumb. "You deserve it. You are special, remember? And I will do everything to keep you safe here with me."

"Seb…" She whispered, her eyes darting on his face. "I am in emotional distress, and yes, I feel gratitude towards you, immense gratitude… But I want you to know that it's not these feelings that are driving me to do what I want to do right now…" She paused, biting her lip. "And it's a very inappropriate thing by muggle standards."

His heart jumped again, hitting that lump that still lingered in his throat.

"What is?" He whispered, his eyes looking at every inch of her face.

"This."

And with that she kissed him. Gently. Hesitantly. It was all so sudden: her sweet lips on his, the warmth of her body and the soft intimacy of her, and whatever romance book he'd read, it was nothing compared to how it felt.

There were no fireworks. His heart was not pounding. It felt right. It felt like he had done it a thousand times and would do it a thousand more.

Her lips melded perfectly with his as his arms found their way around her waist and pulled her closer. He tangled his fingers in her hair and smelled the lily of the valley, and tasted her tears on her lips, and tasted his own along. She wrapped her arms around his neck and it was so slow and loving and passionate that he felt his limbs melt around her. He held her in his arms and kissed her again and again, as if he could never let her go. He could stay there forever, just like that, in that warm embrace where he felt at home.

The thought came like a shock of lightning in his stomach. He felt his arms hold her tighter, his voice soften the slightest bit. "I love you." He whispered.

She looked into his eyes, and he counted every speck of colour in them, one more beautiful than the other.

“You do?” She asked, her lips ghosting his, their breaths mingling. “You… love me?”

"I know I do," he breathed. “I would feel lost, incomplete without you. I want to wake up next to you every morning; I want to hear your voice, see your smile everyday and be the reason for it; I want to share my life with you. I... I want to give my life for you... for us." His words were soft, sweet, honest. "Yes, I love you."

“You… You really mean that?” She looked stunned, before averting her eyes. “I… I don’t want you to lose your freedom. I don’t want to be the reason you’re unhappy.”

“I could never be unhappy with you.” He whispered, caressing her cheek, and kissed her again.

“If… If you meant all that, and…” She paused, the weight of her words crushing her lungs. “You’ve only shown kindness to me… You’ve bought me flowers, you invited me to your house and… you said you wanted to court me… Do you still want that?”

His heart fluttered, and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling. He probably looked like a lovestruck idiot, but he didn’t care. Because the only thing that mattered right now was her. And how sweet she was, and how tender her words were, and how perfectly she fit in his arms.

“I don’t want to just court you,” he whispered, holding her face in his palm. “I want to marry you. I… I want you to be my wife. I have for a while now.”

His voice trembled in anticipation and fear, and his breath hitched when he saw the most gorgeous smile break on her beautiful face.

“T-Then… if my father approves… and he calls off this arrangement in favour of yours…” She said, her voice quivering, and he kissed her cheekbone reassuringly. “I’ll be honoured to become completely yours when the time comes.”

And there it was once more, the feeling that it must be a dream, that it couldn't be real. He must have fallen asleep during Ancient Runes again. His cheeks stretched into the widest grin, his chest hurt and the burn spread to his arms, which tightened around her as if wanting to melt her body into his.

“Do you…Really?” He whispered breathlessly, his eyes wide not to miss any detail of her face, in fear that, if he got distracted even just a second, she would fleet away.

“I love you, and I want to marry you, too.”

And he kissed her again, holding her like she was his very lifeline. And that time, he didn't taste tears or lips. He tasted her, everything she was and everything she would be with him, and he tasted his devotion, his affection as it found its way to her heart and made its home in that small nook just as he did in the much bigger one they were in, and he tasted hers doing the same, slowly grabbing the pieces scattered in his chest and using them to build its home again. And he kissed her until there was no air left. And he would happily give up his lungs as long as he still had her lips. Because the only thing he needed to breathe was her.

"And if not?" His voice trembled as his mouth reluctantly left its place. "If your father doesn't approve, will you still marry me? Would you run away with me? What would happen to us?"

"I would get thrown out of the muggle world…" She said, and he could feel a crack of uncertainty in her eyes, but then she licked her lips, and felt him, and everything he was for her. "But… I still have the wizarding world… our world. And I'll be yours until it crumbles."

"Then I'll make sure it's everlasting. I'll hold its weight in my hands if I have to."

"The only thing I want you to hold is me." She smiled and kissed the tip of his nose.

He let out a shaky breath.

"My companion for life." His voice trembled. "Each time I looked at you, I could only imagine what it would be like to have you as mine, how perfect our life could be and… and when you visited this summer and I saw you in my home, with Anne… I…"

She looked into his eyes reassuringly, and that was all Sebastian needed. She knew.

"I won't let anyone take you away from me." His arms tightened around her. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She gave him a small peck. "I'll write to my father, and… you probably will have to meet him soon."

"I will. I'll do anything in my power to make him say yes. And then… we can be one."

"And if he doesn't…" She smiled and he saw that astute spark that he loved so much. "You and I could threaten him with magic. He's scared of it, like all muggles."

"We could, couldn't we?" He smirked, his eyelids lowering slightly as he looked at her. "We could give him a taste of what your real home taught us."

She chuckled. "We still have the Trace, though, so it would be unwise to really try anything, or my real home will oust me before he can."

"We do have the Trace." He smiled wickedly. "But he doesn't have to know that."

She hugged him again and rested her head on his shoulder. "And if he tries to take me away once I'm seventeen, I'll modify his memories."

His breath caught, and frankly he should've been more concerned with her devil-may-care attitude on such a delicate matter… but he couldn't find it in his heart. He loved the idea just as much.

"That's my girl." He chuckled lowly and turned his head to kiss her forehead. "I knew you'd find the perfect way to deal with this."

He ran his hand on her arms as she cuddled in his lap, and then spoke again softly: "Would you really? Use it against your father, I mean."

"He doesn't deserve respect. He doesn't deserve to be called a father. All my life, he has treated me like a future investment, so I'll show no mercy, just as he did while raising me." She lifted her head and pecked his lips. "Especially if it means I can be with you after."

"Soon, he'll see the consequences of his foolishness." He muttered, his voice softer. "For now, you're mine to hold, to love, and to cherish, and that won't change."

"Stay with me for a bit," she breathed out, "here where no one can find us. We can read together, we can… skip classes?"

"Yes," he whispered tenderly. "Skip classes. Skip whatever you want."

He leaned down and kissed her again, and she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"All this kissing… it would be considered very inappropriate according to my family, but…" She pressed her lips on his again. "We're not in that stupid society, so we can do anything we want."

He laughed against her lips, and felt her breath on his chin, and cheeks, and nose, and everywhere it mattered. "Exactly. There's no one here who can tell us what to do… what to be. So… kiss me more, please?"

She smiled and did just that, pressing all her relief and joy against his soft flesh.

"Sebastian, I do want to marry you, but… I also want to experience what you pureblood wizards call 'dating', so…" Her nose bumped his tenderly. "Date me?"

He drew in a sharp breath, and his hands trembled around her.

"Yes," he choked on his breath. "Yes. A thousand times yes."

"Then I'll have to get Anne's blessing."

He rolled his eyes. "Anne loves you more than she loves me, I promise you."

He pretended to sulk and she giggled.

"Well, then she'll be happy I'll have her surname soon."

His jaw fell open as he stared at her, his chest filled with butterflies. He wanted to answer properly, to say something sweet, or witty, or tender, but he could only manage a choked sound at the back of his throat. She smiled and his breath hitched.

"Mrs. Sallow, is it?"

And if at least one name in that entire forsaken world had to sound perfect, that would be it. And she was perfect. And maybe, just maybe, he could be perfect with her.

315 notes · View notes

homomenhommes · 3 months

Text

saga: SOUMISSION / DOMINATION 132

Emma WE à la baule Hôtel Casino l'Hermitage

L'absence suivante de Marc, Emma s'est payé les services de son Escort boy préféré (c'est à dire moi).

Je suis passé la chercher dans mon nouveau bolide. Trop bonne cette caisse ! Elle m'avait juste dis de faire un bagage bord de mer pour 4 jours. Donc, draps de bain et maillots, chemisettes, polos et bermudas, baskets, lunettes de soleil et graisse à traire (je commence à être suffisamment bronzé pour tenter ça). Je n'oublie pas mon oreille et décide du diamant qui rend mieux sur mon cou bronzé actuellement que le rubis.

Elle est en robe d'été très légère. Petit bagage dans le coffre et nous voila parti direction Nantes. Je suis ses explications au fur et à mesure. Saint Nazaire, passage par la cote : Saint Marc où Tati a tourné les vacances de monsieur Hulot, Pornichet jusqu'à La Baule et destination hôtel de l'Hermitage où elle avait réservé une suite. Après avoir fait déposer nos bagages, nous avons déambulé dans l'hôtel pour repérer restaurants et salle de sport (2 piscines et une salle de muscu / training).

Nous avons croisé quelques " mères " avec leur fils et quelques hommes accompagnés de " neveux ". Pour nous c'est très clair et nous ne nous en cachons pas. Je la tiens par la taille sans équivoque quand à nos relations. Nous avons le temps pour un bain avant le dîner. Retour à la chambre ou nos sacs avaient été défaits et nos affaire rangées dans le placard. Alors que nous nous déshabillons pour enfiler nos maillots de bain, je ne peux résister à la vue de son corps encore parfait, en contre jour. Je suis nu aussi et je me colle dans son dos. Mes mains faisant le tour de son corps pour aller épouser le galbe de ses seins. Elle est plus petite que moi quoique grande pour une femme (1m75). Ma bite dressée contre mes abdos glisse dans le haut de ses fesses (elle a de très grandes jambes) et je masse doucement la peau satinée de ses tétons. Sa respiration raccourcit et ses tétons gonflent et se dressent. Je plie les jambes et passe ma queue entre ses cuisses, mon gland vient alors frotter les lèvres qui protègent son sexe. Doucement je pousse sur ses épaules et la pousse en avant. En même temps, son bassin bascule et bite vient tout naturellement s'enfoncer dans son vagin. Elle est brûlante ! Je la plie un peu plus, elle prend appui sur la table basse et je peux saisir ses hanches pour un assaut en règle. Alors que je la lime sur toute ma longueur, faisant en sorte qu'elle apprécie mes va et vient par une variation de vitesse et d'angle de pénétration, mes pouces écartaient ses fesses et sa rosette m'apparait. Je laissais couler un filet de salive juste dessus et utilisais mes pouces pour la faire entrer. Je suis tout luisant de son lubrifiant naturel, je sors complètement, pose mon gland au dessus sur l'anus et attend qu'elle me demande d'y aller. Emma n'attend pas et recule brusquement. Elle s'empale d'elle-même sur mon sexe. Je la laisse faire et elle continu jusqu'à me prendre en entier. Je reprends les commandes et démarre une sodomie puissante. Elle a beau s'accrocher à la table, mes coups de rein la soulèvent à chaque coup. Elle me masse à coup de contractions anales et alors que je cherche à sortir pour juter, elle me serre en elle et j'explose. Mes mains sur ses épaules la plante le plus possible sur mon pieu.

Douche, maillots, peignoirs et nous descendons à la piscine extérieure. Je n'avais pas fait attention mais elle est d'eau de mer. Agréable le petit goût salé.

Quand nous quittons nos peignoirs, nous sommes admirés. Bon je ne suis pas trop mal fait mais Emma pourrait n'avoir que 30ans tellement elle est svelte et bien faite. Je fais le tour du bassin avec les yeux, pas de concurrence possible, les vieux sont vieux et les plus jeunes ressemblent à ce qu'ils sont, des gigolos. Un seul sort du lot, dans mes âges, brun, assez musclé, rasé, qui accompagne un des plus vieux en présence. Nos regards se croisent, je suis sûr de le retrouver à la salle de gym plus tard.

Le bassin est quasi vide. Nos plongeons sont parfaits et cote à cote nous crawlons une bonne demi-heure.

Après quelques instants couchés sur des méridiennes, je vois approcher le jeune brun. Il me demande si je ne l'accompagnerais pas à la salle de muscu/training histoire de ne pas être seul. Il me le demande car à ce qu'il voit je suis probablement le seul à être intéressé. En plus de son physique avantageux, je note de superbes yeux verts.

Il est encore tôt (dans l'après midi), je me lève et dépose un baiser sur les lèvres d'Emma qui me glisse tout bas que je n'ai pas de kpote sur moi. Je la regarde comme si ce qu'elle me disait était incongru puis éclate de rire.

Présentations, Sasha, Franck. Je suis mon nouvel ami. Dans les couloirs je peux admirer ses fesses admirablement moulée par le slip de bain, rondes musclé comme j'aime ! Il me demande si je suis avec ma femme. Je réponds que comme lui je suis au travail. Il s'arrête ne comprenant visiblement pas. Je précise, bien oui, je suis Escort, Emma est une cliente. Il éclate de rire et me dit qu'il est lui avec son grand père. Je lui réponds que c'est exactement ce que disent tous les gigolos. Il finit par me convaincre que pour lui c'est réellement le cas.

A la salle de sport, nous discutons entre les exercices. J'apprends qu'il vient d'avoir son BAC et que le séjour à l'hôtel est un cadeau pour sa mention bien. Je le félicite. Il fait de l'aviron, ce qui explique qu'il affiche un volume musculaire supérieur à celui des jeunes de son âge. Nous enchainons le travail des pecs avec celui des bras puis après s'être admirés dans les glaces, touchés un peu pour vérifier respectivement nos muscles (et uniquement pour cela bien sur !), nous sommes remontés sur la terrasse. Quand je rejoignais Emma, je lui faisais part de l'invitation à la table du vieux et de son petit fils pour le soir même. Je lui précisais que nous n'avions pas eu besoin de kpote puisque nous ne nous étions qu'entrainés.

L'image de Franck est dans ma tête quand nous rentrons à notre chambre. La porte passée, quand je déroule la serviette que j'avais autour des reins, Emma voit que je bande. Je la pousse sur le lit et après lui avoir arraché le maillot, la pénètre un peu à la hussarde. Elle est chaude et lubrifiée. Le soleil ou ma présence ?? Je ne me pose pas la question sur le moment et elle profite de mon excitation sur Franck. Je fais quand même attention à ce qu'elle trouve aussi son plaisir.

J'avais mis dans mes bagages au dernier moment un pantalon blanc et quelques polos de marque. Ils suffiront pour la soirée.

Nous retrouvons Franck et son grand père pour un apéritif sur la terrasse. Présentations, Le vieux nous sourit avec un oeil complice et me remercie de distraire son petit fils qui commençait à se morfondre à ses cotés malgré les nombreuses fois où il l'avait enjoint à aller sortir avec ceux de son âge. Le vieux est plein d'humour et nous passons une bon moment tous les quatre.

Il est 23h passé quand le vieux propose à Emma de l'escorter au Casino et se tournant vers nous, nous dit d'aller de notre coté, si Emma est d'accord bien sur. Avec sa bénédiction, nous les quittons non sans que j'ai remarqué que Franck recevais un paquet de billet de son grand père. Nous avons fait un détour par notre suite pour que je me munisse aussi de numéraire (et de kpotes) et nous voilà partis à pieds vers le centre de La Baule. Le temps que nous y arrivions, j'ai presque tout su de la vie de Franck, fils unique lui aussi, peu d'amis, pas de copine, à son ton j'ai cru deviner qu'il n'en avait même jamais eu (de copine à baiser).

1ère étape dans un bar face à la plage. Il m'offre la boisson, alcoolisée. Après avoir vidé son verre, il trouve le courage de me questionner sur Emma. J'ai droit à un " mais heu..., tu la sautes ? " Bien sur, c'est même la raison principale de ma présence à ses cotés. Je lui explique aussi que c'est le cas de quelques jeunes qui accompagnent les vieux dans notre hôtel. Il est stupéfait, il n'y avait pas pensé. Je lui demande s'il l'a déjà fait. Je n'ai pas besoin de préciser quoi, il me répond " non pas encore ". Son bronzage et la lumière basse m'empêche de voir s'il rougit mais j'en suis presque sûr. Je lui propose d'aller en boite. Nous regagnons l'hôtel et demandons à l'accueil les adresses du coin. Il nous propose l'Indiana, la boite du casino qui est sur place mais je préfère nous éloigner. Nous nous décidons pour une boite en extérieur. Je vais chercher la voiture. Sifflements d'admiration quand je m'arrête devant Franck. Il manque de se prendre la portière dans le menton quand cette dernière s'ouvre (fixation mouette) puis se coule à mes cotés. Il a les yeux grands ouverts quand je démarre de façon peu discrète. Il est séduit par la caisse (j'aurais préféré par moi !) et me demande de faire un tour. Il est tard, sur semaine, il y a peu de risque que nous tombions sur la gendarmerie. Je décide d'aller sur Nantes. Aller par la 4 voies pour montrer à Franck le potentiel de la voiture (j'ai été raisonnable 220 Km/h seulement) mais il est scotché au baquet par les accélérations. Retour par la côte. Je m'arrête en surplomb de la mer et je sors de la voiture pour admirer la mer sous la lune. Il me suit et se met à ma droite. Sans rien dire, je passe mon bras sur ses épaules pas plus. Il ne le repousse pas et même j'ai l'impression qu'il se colle à moi. Je tourne mon visage vers lui pour parler quand il fait de même et nos lèvres se touchent. Il se fige comme si le monde s'était arrêté de tourner. J'entrouvre ma bouche et ma langue sort lécher ses lèvres. Il reste sans bouger. Je m'enhardi et l'insinue jusqu'à buter sur ses dents. Ses yeux grand ouverts me regardent fixement. Ma langue insiste et il entrouvre sa mâchoire. Aussitôt j'en profite et ma langue entre en contact avec la sienne. Effet reflexe ou chimique (salives) mais il se décrispe et vient au devant de ma pelle. Il passe son bras autour de mon cou et dans la lumière des phares, nous nous embrassons gentiment. Je le laisse faire, il m'embrasse ainsi un bon moment avant de se reculer. Il me regarde droit dans les yeux et me dit qu'il avait super aimé cela. Je l'attire alors vers moi et lui roule une pelle de mec, exigeante, violente, agressive. Il répond sur le même registre. Nous nous décollons et il me dit qu'il aime toujours ça. Puis il se souvient que je suis venu avec Emma et me demande ce qu'il en est. Je lui dit que je suis bi tendance homo. Ça le fait rire le distinguo.

Collés l'un contre l'autre, nous ne pouvons pas ne pas remarquer que nous bandons tous les deux comme des taureaux. Je m'écarte et lui prend le sexe en main par dessus son jeans. Beau morceau probablement 18 x 6 (il m'a l'air assez large). Il empoigne sans chichi la mienne. Je me penche vers lui et lui demande s'il veut que nous allions plus loin dès ce soir. Réponse positive. Pas possible de faire ça sur place ni dans la voiture. Je pense à la salle de muscu qui doit être vide à cette heure. Retour direct, voiture au parking, nous nous glissons dans les couloirs pour atteindre notre objectif. Porte verrouillée, merde ! cela n'arrêt pas mon Franck qui armé d'une carte téléphonique débloque le penne. Je lui fais part de mon admiration. Réponse : comme Louis XVI il aime bien la serrurerie ! (il me cache des trucs). Il fait nuit mais les baies vitrées donne de une clarté blafarde.par derrière les rideaux à lamelles. Franck se rapproche de moi et sa bouche avide colle la mienne. Sa langue me pénètre et la mienne vient au contact. Chaud, très chaud. Les polos valsent et les pantalons suivent. Ses slips ne tardent pas et nos peaux se collent. Pas d'expériences le petit mais pas de tabou et pas farouche pour autant ! Il me masturbe et je fais de même. Maladroitement il tente de me sucer. Pour une première c'est pas génial je sens les dents, pas de profondeur... je me recule et lui dis de me laisser faire. Sa bite est bien large et je ne m'étais pas trompé sur sa longueur. Délicatement je suce son gland, il sur-réagit et je dois bloquer immédiatement la montée de sève. Cela fait j'enfonce sa bite dans ma bouche et il sent bien quand son gland passe de l'autre coté, dans ma gorge. Il me dit qu'il kiffe trop ça. Je me redresse et il se jette sur mon sexe pour me faire pareil. C'est mieux que la première fois, je ne sens plus les dents mais il hoquette à chaque fois qu'il en prend trop en bouche. il est un peu déçu de ne pas me rendre les même sensations (c'est mignon les puceaux quand même !). Je lui dit que ce soir c'est moi qui m'occupe de lui. Je le pousse à se coucher sur un banc de muscu et le reprend en bouche. j'y vais doucement. Je glisse sur ses couilles un peu trop velues à mon goût et alors que je lui relève les jambes, lèche le périnée jusqu'à son anus. Bref mouvement de recul qui cesse dès que ma langue se met à jouer sur les plis.

De lui même il met ses mains sous ses genoux pour les tirer vers lui et m'offrir encore plus son intimité. Je me régale, salive, pousse avec ma langue, la pointe au centre, pénètre quelques millimètres, recommence jusqu'à pouvoir lui mettre un doigt. Il manque de me juter dessus et stoppe lui même son éjaculation (grande pratique de la masturbation). Quand j'arrive à lui mettre deux doigts plein de salive, je me redresse et à son oreille lui demande s'il veut que je l'encule. Excité par mes deux doigts qui jouent dans son fondement, il accepte puis me demande si ça va faire mal. Je le rassure, ouvre une pochette de gel et lui en fait rentrer le plus possible dans son trou, avec un troisième doigts qui passe bien. J'enjambe le banc et ses chevilles sur mes épaules, je me penche pour lui rouler un patin. Ça tire ses cuisses et ouvre bien sa rosette. Je pose mon gland enkpoté dessus et très doucement pousse. Son anus glissant s'ouvre mais je dois quand même appuyer plus fort pour le passer en entier. Je ne bouge plus. J'ai senti Franck un peu sur la défensive. Je lui propose de cesser là. il refuse me disant que nous allons jusqu'au bout.

Je me redresse un peu, prend ses cuisses à pleines mains et doucement les tire vers moi. Cm par cm ma bite pénètre ce beau mec. Il me regarde fixement dans les yeux et je vois le moment ou la douleur se mue ne plaisir. je n'ai le temps que de faire trois aller et retour qu'il ne peut se retenir et se jute dessus. Je me retire, les premières fois quand on a juté, l'excitation tombe et la sodo peut devenir douloureuse. Pas la peine qu'il connaisse cela. Comme il a vu que je n'avais pas joui, il se penche pour recommencer sa pipe. Son action plus la vue de son dos musclé et de son cul rond, je jute à mon tour lui inondant le dos de mon sperme.

Douche rapide, nous arrivons 1/2h avant la fermeture de l'Indiana. Sur la piste la fatigue s'est estompée et notre complicité est totale. Nous nous faisons draguer par deux minettes bien roulées et pas farouches. Elles n'hésitent pas à nous offrir un verre et nous explique rapidement qu'elles sont en vacances (on s'en serait douté !) seules dans la maison de leur grand mère. Je pousse Franck du coude et lui dis que ce serait un bon plan pour qu'il goûte à la meuf. Elles sont mignonnes et prête à se laisser faire. Je note téléphone et adresse et c'est Franck qui leur dit que nous les appelons vers midi. Je le raccompagne à sa chambre et m'aperçois qu'elle est totalement indépendante de la suite de son grand père. Va falloir qu'il explique pourquoi nous n'y sommes pas aller tout à l'heure.

Quand je rejoint notre suite, je trouve Emma endormie nue en travers du lit. Je ne peux m'empêcher de lui passer la langue dans le dos de sa nuque à son anus. Cela lui arrache un frisson mais ne la réveille pas. Je me pose à ses cotés et m'endors.

JARDINIER

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