February 14th, 1890 - After This Thread
Tyb's Boarding Room
Tybalt Kirke

The wait had been agonizing, making it through the rest of the ball, trying to make a small show of being a good little part-time debutante and at least dance a few rounds with willing gentlemen. Though she didn't often have a lot of inquiries, tonight had been different and she wondered if it had anything to do with the rumors. Ugh the sooner this nonsense died down, the better. It also made it all that much more insufferable and was well past midnight when she finally found herself standing in her own bedroom, peeling off the ballgown and all of its layers before unpinning her hair. She was oddly energized, though she should have been exhausted.

After bidding everyone goodnight and closing her door, Elsie muffled the room and though she thought it silly, arranged her pillows in a somewhat convincing fashion of a body in bed. She took a moment to look for any lingering traces of magic around her room, other than the spell she'd just cast herself, but wasn't so sure she'd even be able to tell herself if there was. Certainly her mother hadn't put anything on her room? Nor would she check in. Elsie had feigned tiredness in the last half an hour or so, claiming she couldn't wait to crawl into bed for the night.

Hopefully it had been convincing enough. After a few moments more, she thought the house quiet enough, her mother and sister in bed themselves, so in little more than her nightdress, hair long and loose, she wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and disapparated. It was just a quick trip, a little alone time to get them through and she would make her way home again before morning. No repeats of last time.

The sensation of apparating would never be pleasant, but it was better than the floo network, she supposed. One disorienting spin later and she found herself in the middle of Tyb's room, the dim light throwing her off briefly before her gaze finally landed on him and a wide smile blossomed on her face. "Well fancy meeting you here." She quipped quietly, slightly flushed and swaying from the effort of getting there and just a little bit by the quickening of her heartbeat now that she was here.

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   Melody Crouch

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MJ always makes her so pretty

It wasn’t often that Tybalt left a party early, but... given that he had seen the only person he’d actually wanted to, and they had left each other with the prospect of later, it had gotten increasingly hard to concentrate on anything else. Not that it had been any better, coming in and saying a casual goodnight to one of the other boarders he’d passed on the stairs and then finding himself, impatiently, alone in a silent room. He occupied himself for a little while in... well, first in tidying the worst of the mess (he hadn’t been expecting her here tonight, had he!), then drawing the blinds, kicking off his shoes and flinging his jacket over the back of a chair. Rolling up his sleeves, he had flopped onto the bed for a while, head still spinning slightly from the party, that buzz of music and champagne and perhaps a certain conversation. After that, he had sprung up to check his hair in the mirror - alright - and was trying to find something to do that was not pacing restlessly. 

And just before he began bouncing off the walls - there she was. She looked decidedly different than she had earlier (she had looked wonderful then, too, of course), but this was its own kind of glorious, with her hair tumbling down over her shoulders, the formal dress exchanged for a nightgown and shawl. (Thank Merlin she could apparate.)

“Elsie! What a surprise,” Tyb whisper-exclaimed in overexaggerated shock at her arrival, springing up to meet her in the middle by wrapping his arms around her with enough energy to lift her off the floor. “I was starting to think you’d stood me up,” he murmured in her ear in mock plaintiveness, having not imagined such a thing in the least (especially not with the way she’d been talking at the party). “And on Valentine’s day, and all.” He gave up the jest and beamed at her instead, pleased enough to get to greet her as keenly as he wanted to for once.

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Her smile bloomed into a grin as he picked her up, arms automatically wrapping around his neck as she giggled in delight. This was so much better than a side conversation at a crowded ball, even if nobody could hear them at the time.

"I would never!" She gasped in mock shock, unable to hide the pure contentment she was feeling at this point in time. "Is it still Valentine's?" She teased more quietly, remembering where she was, as she tried to look past him at the clock. Surely it was after midnight, Elsie had even gotten home until nearly then. It was far past her normal bedtime, but such was the life of a daughter trying to make up for being in the rumor mill and for the girl just trying to be alone with her love for more than five minutes.

Feeling her feet hit the ground again, she kept her arms firmly around him, though struggled to hold the shawl in place, letting it flutter gently to the floor without another thought. Sighing softly, she squeezed him tight and buried her face in his shoulder, taking a moment to simply let the moment wash over her. There was something to be said about taking this risk, but when she felt like she could finally breathe, that for just a minute she felt entirely whole, it had to be worth it. "Either way, this is much better." She mumbled into his shirt wondering when this would be their every night and not just one in a great while.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

“Probably not,” Tyb admitted, not bothering to glance about to find out the hour. Still, private conversation or no, it hadn’t been the sort of thing he’d been at liberty to say in public, ‘happy valentine’s’, had it? There was to be no yelling about that date of celebration when no one was supposed to imagine you had anything to celebrate. Maybe he ought to have made a show of passing out a card to some random girls in the street, just so as to make it look like he was looking? (He was a little relieved he hadn’t thought of this earlier.)

And he couldn’t disagree with Elsie’s next remark, either. There was no way he could bring himself to quite let go of her now that she was here and so warm against him. If her head made a home on his shoulder, he really didn’t think he’d mind. “So much better,” Tyb told her, grinning in spite of the fact she couldn’t see his face, grinning purely at his good luck.

He did pull back slightly so that he could look her in the eye to add, a serious lilt to his expression even as he said the words in teasing: “And you know you’re worth the wait.” Oh, the wait was unbearable - the length of an evening, another month before the next one, a year or three before enough might be altered in their situation to make a change of it - but even having her here alone for the scarcest minute managed to remind him how desperately he liked being with her.

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It was crazy to think how utterly relaxed she could be when they knew perfectly well this was a huge risk. Everything else seemed to simply melt away, like anything that could upset them was miles away. Els knew in the back of her head that she was pushing the limit, but it was so just as hard not to as it was risky, but tonight had almost been too much.

Smiling softly, she sighed quietly. Though she obviously knew they were committed to this, to each other, it was nice to hear every once in a while. "I so very dislike the waiting, though." Her distaste for it grew by the day, but what could be done about it? The whole thing was one long, agonizing, waiting game and they didn't even know if they were going to win it. Any brash decisions on their parts would be highly inflammatory and that was the last thing Elsie wanted, but the waiting was incredibly difficult.

The only good thing was that it made moments like this that much sweeter and so she was determined not to let it dampen her mood. Plus whatever it was that had been in the champagne at the party was lingering in her system ever so pleasantly, making her feel delightfully airy and light. Turning her gaze up to meet his fully, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

“You’re telling me,” Tyb said with feeling, sure that he had been the more beleaguered of the two of them, especially with Elsie’s wicked mood earlier. She knew he wasn’t naturally the patient kind!

So thank Merlin she leant up to kiss him when she did, slow satisfaction spreading through him as he let himself get lost in it, thankful that on these rare occasions he didn’t have to have a fraction of his mind on the possibility what if someone sees us. He slid his hands along her shoulders and down towards her waist, trying not to grin at how thin the fabric of her nightgown was. Not so many layers tonight.

(And alright, maybe they weren’t always so good at waiting as they pretended.)

He didn’t want to interrupt the kissing, particularly, but at one point he had to break off to smirk about it; he couldn’t really resist. “What would Witch Weekly say if they could see you now?”

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Smiling despite herself, Elsie let herself get lost in him for a purely selfish minute,  her arms wrapped in a loose loop around his neck. Though she felt no urgency in the evening, it was easy to get caught up in him because she knew their time tonight was limited. A small whine escaped her lips when he pulled back, though her brows furrowed at the mention of Witch Weekly.

"I've had quite enough of them this week," Though they'd joked about it earlier in the night, Elsie's recent conversation with her mother was still fresh in her mind and the Merlin-forsaken gossip magazine had caused some unnecessary turmoil for her. Needless to say, Els was bitter about it. Her tone suggested as much and now she felt all the pent up anxiety threatening to take hold. Try as she might to pretend nothing was wrong, it was hard to ignore the fact that things were starting to fray at the edges and she hadn't any idea what to do about it. They were barely any closer to where they needed to be and Elsie felt that sting specifically as of late. It was to no one person's fault, but it felt like things were stacking up against them again and it was a constant worry she didn't know how to ease.

Sliding her hands down his shoulders, she pulled them back to press the heels of her hands into her temples, leaning back just a little to give herself enough room to do so. "Mother saw the article. It was... not a pleasant conversation." She huffed, taking a couple of steps back now to pace in a little circle. The frustration was never-ending and she felt the weight of it on her shoulders, rolling them subconsciously as if it would ease of the built-up tension. Passing him a helpless look, she felt guilty for unloading this on him, but she didn't have anyone else to talk to about it. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin their short time together, but if she didn't release some of the pressure she was going to burst.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

Ah, he’d gone and done it, hadn’t he? Tybalt regretted bringing up Witch Weekly immediately. It had only been a joke, but - well, sometimes these things hit a little too close to home.

Mostly, he was disappointed that she withdrew her arms from around her neck, and the next thing, was pressing her hands to her head in either frustration or defeat, he wasn’t sure. He stepped back too to let her pace, the mention of her mother having seen the article sending him sitting on the edge of his bed, reading her expression and shrugging slightly to say go ahead, I don’t mind, really. Because he half wanted to hear this, in spite of the fact that he already knew he was going to hate hearing this. (‘Why on earth hadn’t she married handsome Mr. Adlard?’ ) He even hated knowing Mr. Adlard’s identity; and he rather suspected Elsie had purposefully been being kind to him in being evasive about that back when she’d explained the offer of courtship.

Unlike that time she’d been here telling him the bad news, however, Tybalt - maybe only because the thrill of the party hadn’t quite worn off him yet, or maybe because he didn’t want to dishearten her further - didn’t let his smile fade entirely. “I’m sorry,” he said, screwing up his face in sympathy. He wished there was an easy joke to make about this - not that he was giving up. If he was patient, maybe one would present himself. Or, you know, a little hope would. Hope would be great too. “She knows all about you turning down the courtship, then?”

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   Elsie Kirke

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Elsie wasn't sure if she was relieved or put out that he moved even further away, however feeling anything but in control of herself at the moment, she realized he understood what she needed better than she did. She watched him perch himself on the edge of his bed out of the corner of her eye while she took a couple of minutes to continue her little circle of energy release. It was helping, she already felt a little better, but she still felt guilty about letting it get to her in the first place.

Realistically, the last thing she felt like doing (and Tyb probably felt like hearing about) was rehashing the conversation with her mother. Just the thought of it set her teeth on edge again and so all she could do was sigh in response. Shoulders slumped, she finally paused her pacing to look at him straight on again. Pulling a dramatic grimace, she moved to stand in front of him, reaching out to brush her fingers along his cheek.

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin the mood." She could pace her own bedroom any time. Now she should be taking advantage of the fact that she had him at her fingertips instead of letting everything overwhelm her. "But yes, she knows now and I'm sure you can imagine how she felt about it. I was as vague as possible, but that ridiculous gossip rag gave me a lot to work against." She sighed again quietly. "Sometimes it just feels like we're sliding backwards through no fault of our own and it's frustrating." She added in little more than a whisper, blue eyes fixed on his hazel ones intently.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

He might’ve laughed at her strange little circular pacing if, again, the rut their lives were in was at all funny. Although it couldn’t be a rut, if she thought they were sliding backwards -

Well, yes, he could imagine what her mother thought, and though he did not know Mrs. Beauregard remarkably well, what he had heard of her and seen from a distance gave him the impression that she probably had a long-since perfected unimpressed face. One that he hoped never to have to meet.

(But see, that was a laughable thought in itself.)

And there they were again, sliding backwards. He shut his eyes for a moment as her fingers trailed across his cheek, and briefly rested his head against her arm, feeling her doubts exactly, but when he opened them again he pulled both of her hands into his, refusing to give in to this endless frustration.

“Nuh-uh,” he insisted, looking back at her with the best faux-solemn look he could muster. “We’re not going backwards,” Tyb proclaimed. “There’s no going backwards now, Elsie,” he warned. “We’re going full steam ahead and nothing less. I’ve already started paying Harvey and Owen to say great things about me whenever your mother’s in earshot,” he said, joking - but hey, idea - and continuing to roll with this absurd line of conversation all the same. “And I’ve already picked out a house for us. And because I already know you’re going to get so tired of seeing me all the time when we live there that your library room is going be a maze, Elsie, so you can go get lost in a book there and I’ll be far too dumb to find you.” He was being silly now, and he knew it, but if the future was as far enough off as it seemed, then it was safe, wasn’t it, to indulge in it just once, right?

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The following 2 users Like Tybalt Kirke's post:2 users Like Tybalt Kirke's post
   Elsie Kirke, Jupiter Smith

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Thank Merlin for Tyb and his seemingly endless optimism. The more he spoke, the wider her smile became and the less anxious she felt. He really did know her better than she knew herself sometimes. It made her stomach do a little flip of excitement even at the idea (though he was only joking) of having their own house sometime down the line.

"You're right, no going backwards. She nodded solemnly, though a smile still curled the corners of her lips. "But I don't think I could ever grow tired of seeing you every day," That was the goal after all, wasn't it? To be able to wake up beside one another and not have to rush around trying to get home before anyone noticed; to be able to be in public together, no questions asked; to come home to have dinner together and fall asleep in the same bed every night. It felt so far out of reach, but like Tyb had pointed out, there was no going back, it was full steam ahead from here on out and they would just have to keep navigating the rough waters to the best of their ability.

Giving their joined hands a tight squeeze, Elsie released only long enough to fold herself into his lap, wrapping her arms tightly around him. She found herself needing the comfort only he could provide more than anything else at this very moment. "I do love the sound of my own library, though." Just picturing it, the two of them, their own little place, maybe a family, put her heart at ease for the time being.

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The following 1 user Likes Elsie Kirke's post:1 user Likes Elsie Kirke's post
   Tybalt Kirke

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MJ always makes her so pretty

Well, that had most definitely gone down better than he had expected it to. He hadn’t realised that he could actually be even slightly convincing! That sentiment and fondness and idiocy could overcome the cold look of logic! Ha! See, she was smiling again, their shared frustration ebbing again.

They’d chased it away the thought of defeat for another minute. A minute at a time: they could go minute by minute if they had to, he didn’t mind.

“You don’t know,” Tyb countered in jest, cocking his head at her as she curled into his lap. “I might snore.”

She might get tired of him one day for any reason at all, even a proper one, but he could hardly worry about the thought of that, when that was still accompanied by the triumph it would be to see her all the time.

Thinking about the future made Tyb suddenly even more grateful for her warmth, for something to wind his arms around and hold. He didn’t much want to let go. His grin softened as he leant into her, propping his chin on her shoulder as he held her. Of course she’d like the library.

“I could go on,” he murmured quietly, easily, half into her hair. About the rest of it, he meant. The good it could be. The house they lived in would only be the backdrop, after all. They’d have gotten married, they’d have children - a couple at least. Maybe more, like Elsie’s family. A close-knit bunch. Quidditch in the garden. Reading on blankets on the lawn. Never a dull day. Warmth spilling out from every corner.

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The following 2 users Like Tybalt Kirke's post:2 users Like Tybalt Kirke's post
   Elsie Kirke, Freya Selwyn

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Tyb's certainty on the matter helped fuel her own, pushing back against the doubts that sometimes threatened to overwhelm her. It was hard to believe in anything other than success, when she was curled up into him, all warm and cozy, though it was only for a little while.

A low chuckle escaped at the mention of snoring and Elsie shook her head slightly, "Not in my experience, " Which to be fair, was minimal, but even if he did, it wouldn't change a thing. "Never ever." She added on a slow exhale to punctuate her point.

Squeezing tighter, Elsie nuzzled in, feeling very much at home right now. Though it probably hadn't been her original intention for tonight, it turned out to be just what she needed. The chaos of everything that had happened recently had her wishing now, more than ever, that they could just get past all of this and move on to where they wanted to be.

Clearly she wasn't there only one. "Oh? Do tell." Elsie had often thought about what their life would look like together, she did wonder what Tyb envisioned and if their thoughts matched up on the subject. Truth be told, she wouldn't have assumed he'd given it too much thought, but apparently he had- which left her eager to hear his plans.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

He couldn’t help but chuckle at her answer, her assurances warming his insides further still - in a slow, contented sort of way. More like the warm blaze of a winter fire against the cold than the way the excitement and impatience of the party had raised the temperature earlier. But this, Tyb considered, in slight surprise, was equally rare a feeling in his day-to-day, and no less nice.

In fact, he rather thought he would have liked to quit his job and all responsibilities to the wider world and snuggled up here forever with her.

Although he didn’t have a library. So their future house would have to do.

He felt his cheeks flush in uncharacteristic bashfulness when she prompted him to go on. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything. He’d sounded daft enough talking to Miss Delaney about his desires in life: besides, it wasn’t as though men were supposed to crave simple, dull domesticity as ardently as Tybalt was beginning to think he did. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to banish the wanting, either, or to be ashamed of it. Maybe he was a sap after all. This was what adulthood had done! Hollowed him out of all that he was and just left him soft inside. (A human made of mushy peas.)

He and Elsie had never had a direction, really, not at first. And not for a long while after that, either. So much of what they wanted and where they were headed had remained - necessarily - unspoken. They must be on the same page by now, of course - they were facing too many hurdles not to be, if they didn’t both think they were striving for something that was worth it - but with the distance, and with the difficulty, they had never really been able to look at their future in the light.

But it was the middle of the night now, they were alone and the world was warm, so Tybalt just grinned, whether she could see it or not. “You tell me something first,” he countered lightly, half in teasing. “I already gave you a library, didn’t I?”

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In the lull, the warmth of the quiet in Tyb's room, Elsie felt, for the first time in a while, perfectly at ease. Their steady breathing and the feeling of his heartbeat against hers was enough to dull the outside world and push their immediate issues to the background, fading away to worry about another time.

She'd closed her eyes in the peace, a smitten sort of smile curling her lips and if she'd been allowed to stay like that much longer she probably would have fallen asleep.

"The library was a given," She mused, leaning back to study him for a moment while she gathered her thoughts. "Something small, a cottage perhaps, probably won't need too much room." Plus, realistically, they wouldn't be able to afford much bigger. The subject of children hadn't really come up, other than she assumed they would have a couple at the very least and he had mentioned a family here and there. Still a cozy little place to call their own was all she really wanted.

The broader image in her mind wasn't as clear as the feeling she wanted it to have and some of the tiny details that popped into her mind. "Brooms stuffed in the corners, books on every shelf. Warm and cozy inside. A little garden outside for both flowers and vegetables. Room to play. I've always wanted a swing in the yard." They hadn't had the room in Liverpool. Here she'd been off to Hogwarts as soon as they're moved in and then felt embarrassed to ask, feeling like she was a little too old for it.

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MJ always makes her so pretty

There was something so good in this game that it almost felt dangerous. It would be when the light cut back through the glass and the future they’d stacked up in the clouds came tumbling down again. But in the still of the moment - as long as they didn’t move too much - it had such a contenting quality that he was half-convinced anything they built up now would last forever.

And it wasn’t as though they were asking for the world, was it? Just one cottage! Just a little space to be! His smile grew as Elsie had a turn at it, the picture she painted vibrant enough before his own imagination leaped in to fill the blanks. “- one of those gardens with a little stream at the end of it, and maybe an apple tree -” he cut in, thinking of how the London townhouse he’d grown up in, with too many stairs and high ceilings and a cold austerity he had always been programmed to demolish, as a child, as if he could remake or destroy it.

And then Elsie mentioned a swing, and Tyb let out a laugh aloud. “A swing!” He echoed delightedly, almost despairing that he’d overlooked the idea. “Oh I see, so that’s for you and not the kids?” (He had a picture of her on it perched on it with a book and so faraway from the world she kept forgetting to swing it.)

His smile twisted wryly suddenly, the words coming back to him out of nowhere. “Curly-haired Gryffindors,” he remembered with a bemused shake of his head, now that he was attempting to picture children tearing through that cottage and that garden. As Tybalt said the words, he realised they might not ring a bell for her, and he snorted softly. “That’s what your cousin Lucinda called them.”

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