[It's not a reproach, it's stupidly fond. Because sentimentality isn't something that, even now, tends to take usual forms for them. He lets his hand bleed into his robe for kissing her.]
You're not, though. My hand's throbbing too much to have dreamt it.
As long as I'm allowed to like them. I love you. It's better than dreams, dreams aren't true.
[He could have done it for himself, of course, but there's one bad habit. He tends to keep himself away from the healer's rooms even when nursing injury, let alone try anything himself.]
Now? [It's teasing, his eyes wide.] I didn't realise you wanted to fly quite so far.
no subject
[But it's magic all the same. She holds his hand tight]
no subject
There. Insult your blood and they're insulting mine.
no subject
Sometimes I think I dream you.
no subject
[It's not a reproach, it's stupidly fond. Because sentimentality isn't something that, even now, tends to take usual forms for them. He lets his hand bleed into his robe for kissing her.]
You're not, though. My hand's throbbing too much to have dreamt it.
no subject
[She reaches for his hand, to heal that, too.]
We should go to Australia.
no subject
[He could have done it for himself, of course, but there's one bad habit. He tends to keep himself away from the healer's rooms even when nursing injury, let alone try anything himself.]
Now? [It's teasing, his eyes wide.] I didn't realise you wanted to fly quite so far.
no subject
No, at Christmas. Tell your father you're staying here. We can take a portkey, or apparate-
no subject
no subject