Ten years after I began at Hogwarts, Sebastian Sallow is back. And he's Professor Sallow now. He disappeared after the fall of Ranrok and Rookwood, after I lost Professor Fig, and after Ominis and I couldn't keep him from losing himself. But I never...
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I awake to the feeling of Sebastian's lips gently pressing against my closed eyelids. Tender, tiny kisses trail along my cheeks and eyebrows, calling me forward into conscious awareness. As my eyelashes flutter open, I'm delighted by the warmth of the sunshine that my Bashy boy's face beams down at me, each freckle like a tiny ray of light.
Goddamn masterpiece.
"There she is," Sebastian says softly. His voice is low and gravely. He sounds tired, but happy.
"What time is it?" I ask with groggy incoherence. My eyes adjust to the light streaming through the windows that ripples on the bedspread and dances in golden, autumnal swaths on the walls of our shared space. Between the color and the way it bends, it reminds me of the calming, lovely magic Sebastian has learned to generate.
"Don't fret," he begins, which of course floods me with immediate suspicion. "Almost noon," he says calmly as his fingers begin to comb through my hair. "But you have the day off."
"I'm sorry, what?" My heart leaps out of my chest.
Sebastian looks at me with his eyes squinted slightly in profound thought. He inhales through his nose and reassures me, "it's all taken care of, I promise. Between Thiago, Ominis, Kai and Weasley, you and I both have the day off." His words bring relief as much as his fingers do as they continue to run throughout my hair.
"You've had a busy morning," I assume out loud. He simply chuckles, and sweetly asks, "love, do you remember–" He pauses. I can see his mind spinning as he considers how to frame his question. A smile pulls at one side of his mouth as he finally says, "do you remember what we talked about last night?"
Letting out a small huff of laughter from my nose, I say, "of course I remember!"
Why wouldn't I remember?
"Last night we —"
Shit.
I realize in a split second of existential terror that I don't know how to finish that sentence. My heart rate speeds out of control and my eyes go wide with stupor. "Last night, we... we..." Shit!
In my frantic clamoring for memory, I turn my body to face Sebastian who's laying by my side. As I do, my legs reflexively squeeze together against the sensation of soreness that emanates from between them. My lungs hitch in a tender "oooh" sound and, though the exact details are admittedly very unclear to me, I would know this particular sensation any day.
Hell yes.
"Well...my body remembers last night, apparently," I say with a sense of mischievous irony. "You done me good, Sallow."
My body resists another clinch of sore resistance while I finish adjusting and I say again, "you done me real... real good."
