Chapter 18
xoXOXox
Blaise looked down at the two sleeping people where he expected to only find his best friend. They were so entwined together he couldn’t tell their separate shapes beneath the covers. All he could see of Theo was his nose up to his sleep mussed hair. The rest of him was buried like a small child under the blankets. The other person however, that one he could see more of and as he shifted through his unusually high emotions, he tried to determine what he felt more.
Shock was first and foremost in his mind. When he came to wake Theo for breakfast, he could not have fathomed finding the golden girl in his bed. For one, Theo trusted no one else at his back when he was awake. Barely trusted Blaise or the other Slytherins he had been friends with since birth. For him to have willingly let the Gryffindor princess sleep next to him, hold him, when he was at his most vulnerable. It was just… well, it was unthinkable and yet, there they were.
Yearning was the second, he was pretty sure. Theo looked, for once, to be almost entirely at peace as he slept. Not that Blaise had trouble sleeping. Unlike all of his other friends, his penchant for expecting only the worst in life tended to leave him free of nightmares and tension when asleep as nothing horrific caught him off guard. No, the yearning was to know what it would be like to be held and to hold someone that openly, that closely, without any underlying promises or deals. And he just knew that none were made before this strange occurrence happened. It wasn’t in Granger’s nature to take something before giving of herself.
The last and most unlikely of emotions was, dare he say, jealousy. All his life, he was always a little behind his other friends. His mother didn’t have the same clout or prestige as the Malfoys or the Notts or even the Parkinsons. They weren’t as rich, nor did they live the life of easy luxury like the other pureblood families. He knew he was handsome and smart but not as smart as Drake or as striking as Theo. He played Quidditch with his friends but was never good enough to play for the team. He looked and dressed the part of the pureblood noble houses but was always on the outside of the inner circle of them. Really, he was always a step shy of all of them and yet he had never, not once in his life, been jealous of his friends until this moment.
She looked like an angel of mercy, of healing and tenderness, laid pliantly under his best friend's weight. Her hair, braided for sleep, was still trying to come loose from its confined state and take control of the pillow. Her lashes lay softly along her pale skin, fluttering gently with her dreams. Her face was turned just slightly to the left, lips parted just enough to glimpse the tips of her perfectly straight white teeth.
Her arms lay around Theo, one tangled in his hair and the other along the top of his shoulders under the covers. It was like, even in sleep, she was shielding him from the evils of the world. She looked soft and gentle, beautiful and touchable. Blaise found himself, for the first time in many years, fighting the urge to reach for something he knew was out of his grasp.
He should go. Leave them to sleep and not be the one to make this more awkward. Whatever led to this development, two enemies sleeping in each other’s arms, he didn’t want to be the catalyst to the explosion that was sure to come. He turned, letting his head drop and the fringe of his hair cover his eyes, intent to do just that. At least, that was the plan, until his wrist was gently gripped in a callus roughened hand. Everything in him froze. He didn’t want to upset Theo. He knew things like this could be a trigger for his best friend. But that touch, done so gently, sent his nerves sizzling with that same yearning he didn’t know how to process.
“Blaise? You okay mate?”
Theo’s voice was hoarse, cracking on the end from lack of moisture. He must have been sleeping deep enough at one point to be snoring with the way his words came out dry and slightly gravely. It made Blaise’s fingers twitch. The only outward sign that no, he may not be okay. He turned with his signature smirk on his face, eyes back behind his devil may care facade as he met those deep blue eyes.
“Yeah, mate, I just didn’t want to wake you. You know, seeing as you seem to have found a lovely Gryffindor shaped pillow to sleep on.”
Theo bit his lip even as the unladylike snort came from said pillow.
“Now I’ve been reduced to household accessories. Brillant. Think I could make a living out of it?”
Blaise’s smirk tilted up to a grin and he leaned his weight on one foot, carefully dragging his wrist from Theo’s grasp to cross his arms over his chest.
“Depends, Princess, on your clientele list and exactly what other advantages come with hiring you to laze about all day for a wizard’s lounging pleasure.”
He watches Theo’s cheeks pink even as the infuriating chit laughed, full tilt, at him. Theo shifted as if to move, only to be stopped by the gentle hand running soothingly through his hair. Blaise felt a spark of that jealousy flare as he watched his best friend seemingly melt under the caress and flop back down right where he was. He realized he was frowning when he looked back up to meet honey eyes that were studying him intently.
“Are you upset that Theo is lying on me or that I’m holding Theo? I can’t tell.”
And right back to incredulous shock. Damn mouthy Gryffindors who can’t keep their thoughts to themselves. He tried to stop it but his eyes nervously twitched to catch Theo looking at him just as intently now before jumping back to Granger and giving her what he hoped was his signature smirk.
“Now, bellissima, how could I not be jealous. You two make such a lovely picture.”
Theo frowned even as it seemed Granger took in his words and dismissed his nonchalance without a care.
“That attitude doesn’t work on me, Blaise. I thought you knew that by now. Always so calm, so collected, so utterly unaffected by the world around you. But you aren’t unaffected now, are you? So, I ask again, are you jealous of Theo or of me?”
Blaise knew he couldn’t lie to her. Somehow, she could always tell when his emotions bothered to make an appearance, and they were racing inside him like a charging bull at the moment. He had to get out of here before she reduced all his hard won reputation to ash.
“Breakfast is in fifteen. Might want to get a move on getting ready.”
He turned to leave and put this behind him. By the time he got to the Great Hall, he knew he would be buttoned back up and perfectly accepting that once again his mother’s words were proven right and he had been reaching, hoping stupidly, for something that was beyond him. That was his plan until her next question stopped him as effectively as a stupify.
“How long have you been in love with Theo?”
The gasp from his best friend had his heart tripping over itself in sheer terror. He had only acknowledged that fact once, in fourth year when he realized what he was feeling. He took it in, keeping his promise to never lie to himself. He let it sink through his being, accepted it for what it was, mourned his usual luck of being shown something he could never have and then promptly placed it with the rest of the things in his life that were too good to be his. He had never thought of it with any conscious effort since. Not until now. Damn her.
Feigned boredom in place, he turned to meet her probing stare.
“Not all of us are bleeding hearts harboring teenage angst and unrequited feelings of love, Granger. I think you may still be a bit peaky from the ritual. Maybe sleep in and have the house elves bring you breakfast. Your magical crystal ball on my emotions seems to be broken.”
He watched her hands gripped tighter on Theo and reluctantly he let his eyes move to look at him. The pain and hurt behind his gaze had the bored look falling from his face like melting wax. Damn her twice over.
Her hand, that gentle hand with the pretty fingers and bitten down nails, slid from Theo’s hair to cup his cheek, pulling his eyes from Blaise to look at her.
“Be brave. Just this once, Nott, be brave instead of cautious.”
Her words made no sense, and he knew damn well it showed on his face. What the hell did she even mean saying that to Theo? He was brave. Braver than the rest of them. He stayed strong, faced his father’s wrath, never gave up and never gave in no matter the pain promised to him. He was one of the bravest Slytherin’s Blaise have ever known. He opened his mouth to say just that when Theo’s voice came hesitant but strong into the space between them.
“What if it wasn’t unrequited?”
Those ocean blue eyes turned to him, dragging him into the abyss. His breath caught in his chest, choked his airways closed, and squeezed around his heart like devil’s snare.
“Wh… what?”
That was not his voice. What the fuck was that? For Salazar's sake he sounded like a small child still sitting at his mother’s knee learning that he would never have what other purebloods had because in their eyes he was less.
“I said, what if it wasn’t unrequited?”
Theo shifted, Granger’s hands sliding off of him as he crawled his way out from the covers to stand from the bed. Blaise felt his palms grow clammy as he took him in from the sleep tousled hair to the form fitting black t-shirt that hugged his torso, further down those pajama clad legs to his unbearably perfect bare feet. His voice snapped Blaise’s eyes back up to that rolling ocean of pain and wariness.
“What if you weren’t the only one hiding how you feel? Would that be worth the risk of dropping your unbothered and bored mask and letting the truth be seen, Blaise?”
Mask? What fucking mask? At the moment, he didn’t think he knew where the hell the damn thing went. Somewhere fuck all with his nerves of steel and his smooth voice. He was dreaming. This had to be one of those fucked up dreams that randomly caught him off guard and actually did ruin a perfectly good night’s sleep.
Theo took a step closer and completely shocking himself with his panic, Blaise stumbled one back. This was his best friend. The wizard he had been close to most of his life. The one that never smiled fully, whose eyes were always twitching from side to side looking for the next enemy at his back. The same damn wizard who had full blown panic attacks at loud noises or rapidly changing situations that only Blaise seemed to be able to bring him back from.
That Theo seemed to be missing as the one in front of him took another step in his direction and he whimpered as he stumbled once again backwards only to stop abruptly at the door he had been trying to escape through what felt like eons ago. Those eyes, normally so guarded, were now watching him retreat with dawning wonder and awe in their swirling blue depths. Another step, another, and Blaise had nowhere to go.
He tried to pull up the ever-useful playboy from the depths of his soul. Tried with all his might to turn his slack and confused expression to one of seduction. Maybe, if he could find that fucking part of himself, Theo would stop stalking him like he was suddenly possessed by the spirit of Godric Griffinfuck.
“Blaise?”
His name, said so softly, so filled with a yearning ache, broke every part of his will to fight it or find some way out of the moment. His mother always said it was the Zabini heart that was their downfall.
Never fall in love, Il mio ragazzo. It will ruin you.
She was right. He felt ruined. Destroyed. Completely fraying at the seams with no way to pull the pieces back together. He knew his breathing was rapidly declining into panic and yet he couldn’t find the rationale to bring it to heel. Those damning blue eyes reach close enough to almost blur, callused hands he had known the feel of his whole life cupped his face and he knew he was fucking lost.
“Do you love me?”
A gentle inquiry that should have been his saving grace but only pushed him further under the unrelenting yearning and need and desire. He wanted to say no. He wanted to pull away and save himself. This would not end well. He was not meant to be happy. It was his lot in life to always be on the outside looking in. Never the recipient of such things. The war hadn’t broken him. His mother’s death at the Dark Lord’s hands hadn’t broken him. But the gentle cadence of Theodore Nott’s voice asking that fucking question shattered every piece of himself he had cultivated and built for the part eighteen years.
“Blaise… do you love me?”
A breath in, held for a moment, and then he fell.
“Yes.”
xoXOXox