thecoolone | (no subject)

(no subject)

Bill's thoughts are not fit for public consumption. They're barely fit for his own: he paces the floor of Room 42. Back and forth, back and forth: does she think he's stayed away this whole time over a buggering fight? Has she got his letter yet? Does she have a sense he's trying to reach her and can't? All the thoughts, of course, are punctuated heavily by fuck! and bloody hell! and damn! and his brother Charlie's favourite, fuckity fuck fuck!

He's miserable. Completely, utterly miserable and frantic. It's a bloody fuck of a good fucking thing she's as good a witch as she is. Fuck's sake, she saved his life. Twice.

And this is how you repay her, Bill. How very genteel of you.

He's so caught up in angry thought that he doesn't even hear the door opening.

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He doesn't wait another minute before he tugs her onto his lap, but he does wait a minute before he kisses her: there's something he needs to say.

"I'm sorry we fought, but I'm not as sorry about fighting with you as I am about leaving you behind. That was unfair and for that, I apologise."

Forgiveness would be a blessing, but his expectations are low. He's seen Fleur angry before and though he'd rather not see her angry again, he's relatively certain he will.

Fleur has her arms around his neck in an instant! Husband!

She sighs and closes her eyes. "Just. Do not do it again. I mean. Try. Try not to." She opens her eyes and offers a bit of a smile. "Waz part that hurt most. That iz silly, no?"

Then, biting the inside of her cheek and addressing the wall a bit more than Bill, "I am sorry I called your favorite professor a Dark Lord thing. I should have been more. Tactful. With my disagreement. Instead of..." she waves her hands vaguely. And man that sounded like pulling teeth. But look at her try!

He opts to speak to her first statement rather than the last. "I'll try. I'll try."

It's what he can offer. Of all people, Bill knows that life isn't perfect nor is it charmed. He also knows that his bride is very, very young. There are cultural differences, of course, as well as age differences.

Still, he fell in love with her and he married her and they're having a child together and those things need to be the most important things of all.

"Fleur, I love you. I'm not perfect, but I love you. I can't promise we'll never fight again, but I love you and I said I would never leave you. I didn't intend to leave you this time. I just couldn't get back." With a sorry sigh and a shake of his head, he looks into her eyes. "And I don't know why that happened and I don't know if I can leave this place now. But there's one sure way to find out."

"Oui. Juste...one moment? Please? Before we must worry about something else, if there iz something."

She hesitates a moment, then leans in to plant a warm, chaste kiss on his mouth. When she pulls back, her eyes flutter back open and she flushes, just the tiniest bit. "I miss you. When you are gone for long. Iz thiz thing. I love you, you see." And she puts a hand on her slightly bulging belly. "And say 'ello. I have been talking to him. Her. I juste say 'bebe'. I do not want to give um, them? A complex. And I found some people to look at! Healerz. We can look at them together and decide." This time, she grins from ear to ear. This baby stuff is growing on her a bit more.

Some of the hardness on his face melts away, but it's accompanied by the thought have I been gone that long? Long enough for her to find a new Healer? It's not a thought that makes him happy. But he puts his hand over hers and does what she asks: "Hullo."

He would say more, but he can't at the moment; anything that might have come next sticks in his throat. A moment passes, then two, then three.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "Can we go home now?"

She flushes a brilliant shade of red and tugs on his hand. "Pardon. Oui. Let us go. I will make tea." She is tugging him toward the door.

Following her through the door and down the stair, he doesn't let go of her hand. His only hesitation comes when they stand by the front door; it hasn't opened for him in days. But he's paid his penance; when Fleur reaches for the knob it opens to the sights and sounds and smells -- most notably the smells -- of Luxor.

Thank heavens. Without a moment's hesitation or a backward glance, Bill follows Fleur through the door. His last thought before the door closes is that it's so, so good to be home.

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