The goodbye had been on the tip of his tongue already, but he halted and gnawed down on his bottom lip when Elsie started speaking instead. She... maybe this was just it? The air might as well have been sucked out of his lungs all at once, the way she said it. To think, Tybalt thought to himself, the incredulous laugh ricocheting somewhere inside his chest, unable to get out - to think he had been so determined to do this gently, and then. He'd had a plan. He'd collected up his scraps of hope and patience, and now they were in the wind again.

At Lucinda's, she said. Lucinda, who had forcibly set him spiralling away on this path. Lucinda, who had sounded so sure Elsie would want to marry one day. Lucinda who evidently didn’t know her cousin as well as she thought she did. “Cut out for it?” Tyb repeated, dumbly. Put that way, it sounded like her usual self-deprecation, like she wasn't suited for it, or something stupid. But that was not what she could mean by it, because being married wasn’t something she had to be good at or suited for. All that really mattered was whether she wanted to marry or not, and apparently she didn't, and never would. Not him, anyway. Not even him -

For the first time in a long time, Tybalt wondered if he'd gotten this all wrong, because somehow he had found himself so much deeper in this than she had. How blind could he have been? How could he not have realised this before?

“If that's what you want.” The echo of those words was dulled a little by the shock. Faintly, it occurred to him that quitting quidditch now, after Elsie had already as much as confessed that she would rather give up on them than give him a chance at this, that she didn’t love him enough to - she had no intention of marrying him - quitting now would be a bad idea. “Alright. Okay. I mean, you can't tell me what to do, but. Okay.” Everything he was saying sounded like gibberish, suddenly. Maybe she'd change her mind, if he did. Maybe she wouldn't, and he'd be daft for doing it. Maybe if he just gave it time... He didn't know anymore. He cleared his throat. “Anyway. I should go.”

---

  

---

Wincing as he threw her own words back at her, Elsie bit her lip so hard she was sure she'd draw blood. The words it's not what I want at all, sat on the tip of her tongue, poised to undo everything she'd just done, but she couldn't. A stray tear escaped and she wiped it away quickly, hoping he hadn't seen. He seemed ready to somewhat accept what she said, if he questioned her again, she'd surely crumble. Any attempt to explain herself would lead to a meltdown or a confession, she was certain.

"You're right, I can't, I just think it'll be... easier this way." The whisper was barely audible, like she didn't even believe her own words, her voice shaking as a few more tears rolled down her cheeks. This had to be better right? Somehow it didn't feel like it. This was miserable. Elsie just couldn't stand the thought- the possibility, that sometime down the line he'd resent her for having to quit. Even the thought of it now had her breath catching, knocking the wind from her, but she couldn't lose it just yet.

She turned watery, hopeless blue eyes on his, feeling completely lost. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Elsie worried briefly that she was making a huge mistake, that this would be ruined beyond repair, but she didn't know what else to do. She wasn't worth his career, not when he loved it so much, no matter what he was willing to do in place of it, she just couldn't be the reason it ended.

---

  

---

MJ always makes her so pretty

He caught the motion of her hand brushing across her face somewhere in the corner of his eye, but he was still too dazed to notice it, much less do anything about it. He hated to see her cry, couldn't stand to see her upset, hadn't thought he would be capable of turning his back on her like this, but -

He didn't want to stay. He hardly wanted to look at her anymore, in case Elsie saw the look in his eyes, the disbelief, the pathetic lack of comprehension. Maybe she felt bad - maybe that was what her tears were about - but she couldn't feel worse than he did, right now. She might feel guilty about it, but what was a little guilt to this crushing weight? He had been going to change his whole life for her. He had been going to, willingly, and she didn't want it, any of it. He had tried so hard and so long to leave the future hazy, let it stretch out somewhere around a bend he couldn't see, but - after the quidditch party, after the conversation with Lucinda - maybe he had let himself imagine, a little. A path cleared up ahead. Visions taking form more distinctly, bits and pieces of a puzzle falling into place. Things to look forward to, things he would one day get to have.

Maybe he had let himself want too much. Tybalt supposed he should be humiliated, if only he had room past the hurt. This was why it wasn't worth thinking about the future. The future you wanted would never come, and knowing what couldn't be only made it worse.

But what could he do? He wasn't going to argue, if Elsie seriously thought this way was easier. Maybe for her.

"So am I," Tyb answered flatly, not looking at her. He turned his head to the side, pretending he was focusing on a gold-lettered title along the spine of a book, but now his eyes were misty and the damned world was swimming. She was not going to make him cry. He was not going to give in to those threatening tears, was not going to break down in front of her in the middle of the library. And if that was so, he couldn't stay here a second more.

He had already turned on his heel and started moving when he managed to choke out some kind of end to the conversation, but he didn't look back. "Take care."

---

  

---