Do Good things Come?

[Headmistress Hells]

Hells sat on the ledge of her window, her chin resting on her knees as she gazed out at the mountains. The vials she had received earlier from Grey were sat on her desk, still contained in their bag. Sighing heavily, she wrapped her arms tighter around her knees, drawing them in closer as a cool breeze swept over her. Her mind was buzzing with events of the day before, one in particular.

When she went to Grey's shop, she had no prior inclination of revealing anything. She went for the sleeping draught, not to play mind games. At the time, the bravado she felt at the Masquerade had rushed through her veins, leading her to say things, her normally rational mind would have second thoughts over. Not only had she pointed out Gaby's article, she had even confirmed her own identity. And where on earth possessed her to use that line! Good things come to those who wait. She knew he recognised it. The shock on his face had told her as much. But then he dismissed her. It wasn't the greatest of signs, Hells had to admit, but she was naturally optimistic so she still held some hope. Sweeping her loose hair back, Hells watched a pair of swallows flying across the lake, dipping every now and then to catch the midges that flew on the surface.

All she had to do was wait a few days and then maybe she should go see him again. He would have had time to get over the shock at least, things would be clearer. Would they? Her mind beginning to doubt herself once again, Hells groaned and buried her head in her hands.

[Greyson "Grey" Sebastien]

Grey was, admittedly, perhaps still a bit inebriated, though thankfully, he wasn't drunk. Still, his mind was just hazy enough to have justified this visit, after hours of deep thought. It had been only one night, for both of them, but they had never been meant to know the other's identity. He knew, and he believed that she knew. Which begged the question; what now?

Grey rapped on the Headmistress's door, his ostentatious reason for visiting firm in his mind. It was, perhaps, a bit flimsy, a bit transparent, but he saw no reason to pretend stupidity. At least they could both know that the other knew. Even if neither of them said as much. It sounded perfectly logical to him.

[Headmistress Hells]

Hells heard the knock of the door deep in her thoughts. Subconciously she picked up her wand that was balanced on her bare toes and flicked it towards the door, allowing it to open. "Yes?" She asked, not looking to see who it was. Her eyes remained on the swallows dipping and diving to get their evening supper, the moon beginning to make an appearance in the sky. She didn't want to stop watching the beauty of their act, the sway of their wings as they rode the breeze, souring up towards the cloudless sky, before swiftly changing direction to swoop down below. Her hands were sat softly in her lap, the dark colours of her dress making her paleness stand out. Her back was lent against the ledge's wall, her long red hair swept over one shoulder, gently moving everytime a breeze came through. She looked a picture of serenity, yet her mind was a blizzard of thoughts.

[Greyson "Grey" Sebastien]

Grey stopped in the doorway, struck for that moment by the picture of soft femininity, of vulnerability that Hells made. He had seen her strong and defiant, had seen her cool and businesslike, had seen moments of coy flirtation, almost entirely behind the protection of the mask. But this was entirely different, and Grey's instincts were called to the fore. He fought them, fought the sudden stupid urge to cross the room and comfort her, to throw aside every hard lesson he'd learned about life, and he stepped in, closing the door behind him.

"If you 'ave a moment," Grey began, "I 'ave discovered that I overcharged you for ze potions." Traces of his French roots showed through in his accent, normally undetectable, but he didn't notice, possibly due to the same light mental haze that brought the accent out in the first place. Grey ran one hand through still-damp hair--he had been sure to shower and dress properly, despite the liquid courage he had imbibed--then reached into his pocket to retrieve a single knut.

He wanted her to know that he knew, but he didn't want to say the words, didn't want to bring everything out in the open, if she still wished to pretend. Grey placed the knut on the edge of her desk, in plain view, should she choose to see it.

[Headmistress Hells]

Hells had whipped her head around when she heard his accentuated voice. Her soft lips parted as she watched and listened, wondering if at first she was still in a day dream and this was all a figment of her imagination. Swinging her legs around slowly, Hells lowered herself down from the ledge, her dress falling to hang around her ankles. She looked from the knut to Grey, then back to the knut, her lips beginning to form a smile. Silence hung around them like a blanket as she glided over to her desk and picked up the knut, the warmth of his skin could still be felt on the coin and she glanced up at Grey, a couple of feet just between them. "You overcharged me?" She asked softly, her grey eyes searching his face for some tell tale sign. Her senses were on fire and she could smell the soap on his skin from where he had previously showered. "But yet you charged me just 10 galleons for 3 vials? Surely I should be the one giving you money?" Hells held the knut in her hand as she made one step closer towards the man that had plagued her dreams. She lifted her arm towards him, her hand revealing her natural calmness was array as it shook slightly as she uncurled her fingers, the knut laid in the palm of her hand. "Why are you here Grey?" She asked, finding some strength inside her. Hells didn't believe he had come all this way just to hand her back a knut and the young headmistress hoped that he had accepted who she had been. Holding her breath, she waited for him to reply, unsure if he was to answer or turn away and run.

[Greyson "Grey" Sebastien]

"To see you," was the simple answer, the simple truth, and it slipped from Grey's lips without thought. He realized only afterward, and his mind sought some way to retreat, to give a return to the distance that he believed Hells wanted. He latched onto another flimsy excuse, one of many he'd gone through before heading out the door to her office. "I had a concern about the potions." He could not recall what that alleged concern was, though, and his attention was caught on those soft gray eyes, on the sudden warmth of the room. This was the woman he had let in during a night of weakness, this was reality, not the dream he had meant it to be, and that knowledge was so strong that it made it through the haze of his mind, no matter how he tried to ignore it. He couldn't forget the feel of her, the taste of her, any more than he could allow himself a return to that weakness. Still, though the alcohol had mellowed the force of his thoughts and memories, it had also lessened his ability to hold his distance, his ability to appear distant. His thoughts showed in his eyes, the desire for the dream, the inability to accept the reality, the hidden fears he could never admit.

[Headmistress Hells]

"The potions?" She asked, arching an eyebrow. She couldn't be sure who held the power in this room. If this was before that fateful night and Grey had been here on the simple matter of the potions as he said, she would have been in full control of her senses. Yet that night had happened and was relived every night in her dreams. She could understand the resistance he was trying to keep grasp of. Had she not seen his dreams, cried the same tears as she stood behind him at the grave? Always wanting to reach out, yet unable to pass some invisible wall that stood between them. Was that wall with them now in her office? She took one uncertain step forward, her eyes fixed on Grey and then stopped. "What was your concern Grey?" She asked him softly, her voice unchallenging as she played along with his excuses. She knew what his concerns were, but they had nothing to do with the potions and Hells felt this was not the right moment to reveal her knowledge to him. The fact he was in her office showed to Hells he was beginning heal, yet the emotional scarring left behind was still very much in control of his life.

[Greyson "Grey" Sebastien]

Grey's mind was too hazy for any quick thinking, or he would have come up with something convincing, but as it was, the best he could do was to ask, "Did they work?" Of course they would have worked. He was no novice when it came to potion-making, and he had used a vial from that very batch only last night to sleep off some of the effects of the alcohol. There was no real concern, but Grey got nothing from the tone of Hells's voice to say that she didn't believe him. His eyes couldn't find the willpower to move away from hers, nor could he find the will to step back, even as she grew nearer. This was dangerous, everything in the back of his mind told him that, his defenses were down and a woman who had seen too much of him was temptingly close. His breathing shallowed, slowed, in anticipation of something he would not allow, or so he believed.

[Headmistress Hells]

"I wouldn't know.." Hells began, not daring to take her eyes from the man infront of her incase he should disappear. "I didn't take it last night." She had forgotten to take it the night before as her mind had been trying to work out what to do. She had woken up that morning with her head on her desk and the potion vials nearby. She inched closer to him, still expecting some invisible barrier to knock her back. "Grey. I don't think you're here about the potions." Hells began, taking another step. "Nor about whether I was shortchanged or not." She continued, again taking one more step so that they were a breath apart. "I think you know. Did you come for this?" Where her sudden bravado came from, Hells couldn't say, but as the last word left her, she closed the gap between them, lifting her head to claim his lips with her own.

[Greyson "Grey" Sebastien]

Grey had intended to argue. His mind had formed the words, that yes, he was here about the potions, but before his lips could even begin to speak, she had kissed him, and his argument died. There was no thought in his response as his lips firmed against hers, as his hands rose to curve around her slender waist. He was dreaming again as his lips parted and instinct prodded him to take control. But his instincts were faulty, or perhaps they knew better than he. Rather than throwing a protective wall into place, taking control of himself, putting distance between them, he took control of the kiss, pulled her closer, and fell into the dream.

[Headmistress Hells]

As Grey deepened the kiss, Hells tasted a faint sweetness on his tongue. Her fingers curled into his shirt as he pulled her in, her body arching as she craved his own. This was how she remembered, how she had dreamt since that night they first saw each other in the gardens of the ball. Her senses were going wild as she felt his hands on her waist, her mind for once in agreement with her heart that this was right. She ached to be with him, for them to visit that place they shared before. Her body was aflame with a passion that only he could evoke, that only he could quench.

[Greyson "Grey" Sebastien]

Grey's hands tightened at her response, at everything he could feel even through the fog surrounding his mind. His palms swept around to her back, together in one smooth, strong motion upward, his fingers caressing her spine. He wanted this as well, with every drop of blood in his body, but his mind, as foggy as it was, still managed to intrude, and his lips broke from hers, though they couldn't seem to move far enough away that he couldn't taste her breath. "We shouldn't," he said, the same words he'd said at the masquerade, though he didn't recognize them.

[Headmistress Hells]

"We should," She said, her voice barely a whisper as she gazed at Grey, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen from their kisses. "There is nothing to say we can't." She continued, her words punctuated with small butterfly kisses to Grey's neck. Her breath was warm as she run her tongue over his adam's apple. "You want me." She whispered. His resistance was driving her mad, yet it excited her slightly that it was her turn to seduce him. "I want you." Her kisses followed along his jaw line, her hand wrapped around the nape of his neck. "That is all that matters."

[Greyson "Grey" Sebastien]

How was he to deny any of that? How was he to think to deny it? His body was on fire from the touch of her lips, her tongue, from the promise in the warm press of her body. He couldn't think, beyond the desperate need to have her, and so he didn't think, but found her lips again and broke completely. His doubts and fears could have their turn later.

Grey turned Hells back against the edge of her desk, needing that support as his hands moved against her. There was desperation in the motions, everything that he was repressing needing an outlet in the tension he gave to her. She felt the same, but so very different when there was no mask to hide behind, though his shattered mind could not see why. His hands--both hands this time--reveled in touching her, and physically, he held nothing back.

[Headmistress Hells]

Hells was like a moth to Grey's flame. The satisfaction that he gave in to his desire only added to the intense heat that was building in her veins. Her hands mimiced his, tracing the contours of the muscles beneath his shirt. Her mouth licked and nibbled his neck as her soft hands ran down his back, sliding beneath the waist band of his trousers, his body responding to her touch just as much as her body responded to his. "Please!" Hells whispered, her head buried in his shoulder as she gently bit him, her nails digging into his skin urging Grey to complete her, before her body imploded in flames.