Six months of being engaged to Timothy Ainsworth, and this was the first time anyone had asked Juliana that question. Her eyes widened slightly in panic, her expression similar to a student being called on in class on a subject they had forgotten to study for. She opened her mouth to reply but once again found herself speechless (something that did not happen to her often, but seemed to be an alarming trend tonight). She closed her mouth, took a small breath, and tried again. "Well — he asked me to," she began, though it was clear from her tone that she was aware this was not a compelling reason (and did not cast her in the most flattering light, besides). "And he's very accommodating. He's encouraged me to keep my job at the Ministry, and to keep writing. He's even — I'll have my own study once we're married," she put in hopefully, as though she believed perhaps now she had finally landed on a solid reason to commit to lifelong partnership. "And he's very intelligent, and kind. He's — he's a very good man. I'm sure he'll make a very good husband."

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

In the seconds after her explanation came to a close, Lach stared at her with soft eyes. His chest squeezed, and he couldn't decide whether or not he was happy or disappointed for her. Everything she described sound like the perfect life for her—except for the absence of love, which he'd always known to be paramount in relationships if his family was any indication. Was she trying to convince herself that it was worth going through with it? Is that why she'd come here?

"You know you don't have to get married if you don't want to. Even if he's a good man." He didn't know what prompted him to approach it at this angle. He almost regretted not confirming that she was doing the right thing.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

This was not what she had expected him to say, and Juliana's brow creased as she tried to work through his meaning, supposing there was one. This was so far removed from the scenes she had half-imagined before coming that she was left more than a little out of sorts as a result. Not that she had been the picture of poise at the beginning of this interaction, either.

"I — I want to," she said hesitantly. She believed that was true, but expected that he would not, so after a slight pause she continued with an explanation. "A woman my age must consider alternatives," she said. She wrung her hands in front of her and looked towards his waist instead of his face. "I would prefer to grow old in a home of my own, rather than in the spare room of one of my brothers. So — this really is ideal, on the whole. He's very kind. I expect I will be comfortable."

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

He realized then that the squeeze in his chest was for himself. It wasn't a pain that came from hurt or disappointment; it came from the little remnant of longing he felt towards her. He could accept that she was settling down, marrying another man. It wasn't even about acceptance, he realized—it was about her being sure of herself while he still felt like he was the same person from two years ago, and knowing that he never could have been the right man for her to marry even if she had wanted him.

His brows pinched together as he looked down at her, nearly two years older than he'd seen her last but somehow no different. "Why did you come see me tonight?" he asked outright, mindful of how he stood positioned between her and the floo pot.

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Juliana pursed her lips. She nearly said I don't know, but realized that was the easy way out. She owed him at least an attempt at an explanation, after barging into his house in the middle of the night.

"I — I didn't know if you knew or not," she began, faltering slightly. "About the wedding. And it just — it just wouldn't have seemed right to go through with it without... without your knowing about it. I don't know," she admitted. "It's difficult to explain. I just felt like... you ought to know."

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Lachlan smiled, or at least tried to. This was good, he told himself. This was.... closure, almost. The last time they parted ways had been abrupt, and Lach had always wondered how having one last conversation might change things.

"I... appreciate that," he said, his stance relaxing substantially. He shifted on his feet, leaving her an opening to flee if she still felt the need to. "I'm... I'm glad you found someone who will make you happy." He dropped his gaze to her feet, not knowing what there was left to say. I wish things would have been different?, or Maybe we can still be friends? He could see them being friends, maybe years from now when their lives were different; but it had been a long time since Lach kept friends closer than casual drinking buddies, and he couldn't envision trying to pursue a friendship with her while she was an engaged woman.

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Juliana swallowed and thought to say thank you, but her lower lip trembled before she could speak. She had said everything she had come to say, so there was no reason to linger, but she didn't move to leave. Instead, she threw her arms around his broad shoulders and collapsed into him.

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

Lach's eyes found hers, wide and startled, as she threw herself into his arm. He caught her with ease, his arms encircling her waist. He was careful where his hands went, plastering them on the in the middle of the back, one above the other. When he breathed out, it came out shaky and uneven. He'd never had a problem with physical contact, but he couldn't remember her ever initiating it between them.

"If you ever need anything, you where to find me," he murmured, his lips hovering just above her ear. He didn't think Juliana would intentionally put herself in a situation where she could be in danger or hurt, but still. If her to-be husband did turn out to be a total arse, he needed her to know he was here.

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There was something so comforting about the feeling of his arms around her that Juliana was at once convinced that she was making a grand mistake in having accepted Mr. Ainsworth's offer, but at the same time she knew that she wasn't going to change her mind. Whatever might have happened between them two years ago had things been just a little different, nothing was going to happen now. She tightened her arms around his neck and pushed her face into his chest, forgetting even to feel self-conscious about his state of undress.

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "That I wasn't — what you wanted."

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

His arms tightened around her as she sunk further into him. It hadn't been the same all those years ago. There'd been more tension, more longing on his end, but less... this. Less comfort. Less ease. He let out a deep breath, feeling every inch of his abdomen press against hers, finding it more comforting than anything else, like he hadn't realized a hug from Juliana Binns was the perfect cure for all of his troubles.

His heart leapt at her words, and for a a beat he found himself unable to think up a response, let alone speak them. He wasn't sure how he'd given her the impression that she hadn't been what he wanted. Clearly they hadn't been on the same page back then.

Back then when it might have mattered.

"You were," he murmured back, his fingers digging into the fabric of her nightgown, "but I wasn't what you wanted. I knew that." I needed my distance. I needed it to fade, he finished, silently and in the privacy of his own thoughts. He never would have survived a friendship with Juliana—enough time had passed to make that obvious.

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— way too attractive set by mj <3 —

Juliana sighed against him. "You might have been," she admitted. She didn't know if that was true, but — she'd been thinking about it more and more lately, since the proposal. Before him, she had never considered anyone in that light at all; when they had been at the height of their interactions she had considered only the ways in which he was all wrong. But when they'd stopped talking, and especially since the proposal, she had remembered all of the ways in which this felt right, comfortable, comforting, and she had wondered. She didn't know what she wanted. She hadn't known then, and she still didn't know now. She was just trying to do her best with the choices presented to her at the moment.

She was going to marry Mr. Ainsworth. She had committed to that when she gave him her response to his proposal, and he had done nothing in the intervening months to merit her changing her mind. He was the choice presented to her — yes or no &mDASH; and the correct answer was obvious. But still — she wondered.

"I should go," she said, pulling away (with great hesitation) from their embrace and dabbing one of her eyes with the heel of her hand, lest he catch sight of the tear threatening to fall there.

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules

He knew this was closure. He told himself it was. They were saying goodbye, they would part ways, she would get married. Nothing was starting—there was no after, no see you soon. This was their moment to say what needed to be said and move on with their lives.

So why did it feel like an old wound was being torn open?

He found himself struggling to keep his breathing even as she extracted herself from his arms. He allowed him one long, painful second to mourn the end of the embrace, his gaze glued to her feet as if it would help stop his eyes from glassing over.

"Okay," he whispered, sounding hoarse and miserable and every way that he hadn't wanted to sound while saying goodbye—because this was goodbye. He reached out on impulse, letting the tips of his fingers brush against her wrist. "Good luck."

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When he touched her wrist Juliana had the same feeling that had previously caused her lip to quiver and her to throw herself into his arms, but she tamped it down. She had stayed too long and done too much already. She shouldn't have come, but she certainly shouldn't linger.

She would not be able to do this again, she thought with remorse. She might have her own study when she was married, but she would also have a husband who would presumably notice if she were absent at midnight.

"Thank you." She ran a hand down her braid once more. "Take care of yourself, please."

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Prof. Marlowe Forfang

Jules