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Phoenix Rising
A Harry Potter RPG
Truths and Secrets 
22nd-Sep-2006 02:23 pm
skeptical
I can’t remember the last time I was this nervous before going out with Dean. We’re going out to a nice dinner tonight, his suggestion. He hardly ever suggests we go out, especially somewhere nice. I think he likes to go out as much as the next bloke, but that isn’t saying much. While this is unusual, it isn’t what has me nervous.

This afternoon I came home from work to try and surprise Dean for lunch. He wasn’t in his flat, though. Being the nosey girlfriend that I am, I let myself in. I was shocked to see his flat completely cluttered with maps of Greece, notes about the last Horcrux, and his dad’s notebook. At first I was angry that he didn’t ask my help, but since then I’ve grown more concerned that he hasn’t told me that he was working on the Greece Horcrux. I’ve tried to convince myself that its just because I’ve been busy at work, but I’ve had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind ever since.

Now all I’ve got to do is sit here and wait for Dean to arrive for dinner. I know he’ll be late. Of course, I’m ready ten minutes early and can barely manage to sit still for all my nerves. I’m sure he just didn’t tell me … it means nothing.

It doesn’t mean he’s going to dump you!

I’m startled from my thoughts by the door opening.

“Hello!” Dean calls as he walks into my living room. I don’t bother to get up, so he kisses the top of my head on his way into the kitchen. “I’m starving.”

“Don’t eat anything, we’re on our way out!” I scold, finally jumping up from the couch.

“You didn’t look ready so I was going to get something to tide me over,” he shrugs, leaning against the doorframe. He frowns and examines my face. “What’s wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to intrude, but I went to your flat today to invite you to lunch and you weren’t there,” I begin slowly, wringing my hands. I can’t stand to look him in the eye. His lips form a silent ‘oh’ and he swears under his breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to go through your things, but why didn’t you tell me you were looking into Greece?”

“I haven’t been really looking into it, just looking through my dad’s stuff again,” he mumbles, pushing past me and sitting down on the couch. “No big deal.” He pats the place next to him on the couch and grins.

The grin is genuine and it takes a weight off my chest, but the look in his eyes worries me. I sit down beside him and rest my head on his shoulder. “So if you were going to Greece, you would tell me, right?”

“Do you think that I wouldn’t?” he quickly replies. I can feel his body stiffen momentarily before he reaches for my hand. I pull my hand away and lean away from him.

“You would tell me, right?” I repeat, trying to read his face for a better reaction. “You would tell me so I could help you, so I could go with you.”

“We should talk about this later,” he mumbles, looking towards the door. “We should go, we don’t want to miss our reservations.

“You weren’t going to tell me!” I exclaim, slapping his arm. “You were going to run off without me!”

“It’s not like that,” he begins before I cut him off.

“I’m sorry that I’m not the best fighter in the world, but I didn’t know I was such a burden to you!”

Dean winces before I storm out of the living room and into my bedroom, slamming the door behind me. I lock the door before throwing myself into my desk chair. I pound my fist against my desk and curse under my breath. It isn’t a minute before I can hear him knocking on the door.

“Padma, it isn’t like that,” he sighs. “Just come out here so we can talk.”

“So now you want to talk!” I yell back. “Funny how that works. Normally you enjoy keeping your secrets more than you do talking.”

There’s a loud thud which I assume is his head hitting the door. “That’s not fair.”

“You’re right, it isn’t fair, but it is extremely accurate,” I retort.

“You’re impossible!” he exclaims.

I jump up from my chair and swing open the door, causing Dean to stumble into my bedroom. “Me? I’m impossible? I can’t be any worse than someone who runs away from all of their problems.” His face drops and he stares at me. “That’s right, Pug told me all about how you ran away from Australia when Zara died.”

“That’s low, Padma,” he says quietly, but I can see the rage building up behind his eyes.

I don’t reply, but turn my back to him.

“Don’t talk about things you don’t understand,” he says, a little louder. “And are you so quick to forget about when you ran away to India?” By now the anger in his voice is clear and I spin around.

“I’m trying to change! It’s obvious you haven’t!”

“And you gathered all of that from some notes and maps lying around my flat? Which you broke into, by the way,” he snarls.

“I wouldn’t be making assumptions about your life if you’d tell me things,” I reply, shoving him backwards. “But no, you insist that I’m incompetent and keep me in the dark!”

He throws his hands up in the air. “I never said that!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me about Greece?”

“Because I knew you’d insist on coming!”

“Why would that be so bad?”

“Because I love you!” he blurts out. His face turns red and suddenly I’m glued to my spot on the floor. Every other thought in my head disappears and all I can see is Dean, standing in my bedroom, staring at me. My Dean, who loves me.
 
22nd-Sep-2006 06:29 pm (UTC)
OH, SHITE!

That came out all wrong.

Those words have caused everything to come to a screeching halt, and Padma is just standing there in what can only be shock or maybe disbelief, her eyes wide. I want to grab my words, stuff them back into my throat, and choke on them. And then die. This is not at all how I imagined telling her. You don’t just blurt it out like that! You don’t tell someone you love them for the first time in the middle of a bloody row! And you certainly don’t tell someone that when you’ve been caught in the middle of a gigantic lie!

“I’m sorry,” I choke out, horrified and unable to tear my eyes from her.

Padma blinks. “You’re sorry?” she whispers incredulously, before reaching behind her blindly and finding the edge of her desk which she leans on.

This isn’t going well.

“You’re sorry that you love me?” she says quietly in the general direction of the window.

“NO!” I say immediately. “No, I’m not sorry for that; I’m sorry for.…” I sink numbly down onto her bed and inhale deeply before saying, “….for everything else.” For this fight, for keeping secrets, for lying, for being a complete prat about my past, for just throwing those words at you like that, for not being the person you need…

I can’t stand to look at her anymore, so I lean forward with my forearms on my knees and stare at the floor. There’s a scarlet blob of what looks like nail polish on the carpet near my left foot. It looks like blood. Blood from an idiot’s mangled heart thumping around uselessly inside of his chest, I think ruefully.

Her silence is agonizing.

Maybe this is when I’m supposed to get up and leave, but I need to hear her tell me to go because I’m silently hoping that she won’t say those words. I’m sick of running away from everything, so I close my eyes and wait, staring at the blob of blood-red nail polish that is burned into the back of my eyelids as my heart beats painfully.

“Dean.” Her voice is soft and close. I jerk my head up to find her standing in front of me, tears in her eyes. She reaches down and gently brushes the side of my face with her fingertips. “I love you, too.”
22nd-Sep-2006 06:30 pm (UTC)
Those words are spoken so softly I’m not sure if I heard correctly, but I could’ve been deaf because the look on her face says it all. I think my lungs have spontaneously evacuated themselves of all air. Before I know what I’m doing, I stand up and pull her to me, wrapping my arms around her and burying my face into her hair.

“Where are your fancy words now?” she asks as a tear escapes and slides down her cheek and wets the side of my face as she sniffles.

“I love you,” I whisper, squeezing her tightly, not wanting to let go. She loves me. I can barely believe it.

“Dean,” she gasps.

“Hmm?”

“I … can’t … breathe.”

I release her quickly and step back. I let my hands slide down her arms and lean back so I can look her in the face. “Sorry … again.”

Our eyes meet and a small smile flits at the corners of her mouth. I feel a huge grin spreading across my face as she gives a watery laugh and swipes at her still-teary eyes.

“My Padma,” I say brushing a curl away from her face, “Don’t cry, it’s not such a horrible thing to have an idiot love you.”

“It’s not?” she asks, trying not to smile. Her eyes are sparkling.

“No, it’s not.” I slide her curl between my fingers and then tilt her face up gently. “Because they can easily be persuaded to do just about anything.”

I watch her lips as they slowly form the word, “Anything?”

“Ummhmm.” I nod, leaning down slowly. I pause, hovering inches from her lips. “Idiots have weak minds. You should feel sorry for them and forgive them.”

“Oh,” she breathes. Her breath is warm and sweet sends my heart thundering through my chest. “In that case then…” She tilts her head as she rises up to meet me. Our lips meet and I close my eyes. I can’t imagine anything that feels more right. Her mouth moves leisurely under mine and I try to memorize the feel of her and this moment.

I’m not sure how long we stay like that, but suddenly I’m aware of the warmth of Padma’s hands drifting down my chest. She pulls my shirt from the waistband of my trousers and begins to slide her hands slowly up my back to my shoulders. My breath gets stuck in my throat and I inhale quickly against her mouth before pulling her closer and dipping down to find that place behind her ear. She smells so good. Pulling back her collar slightly, I run my mouth down her neck to her collarbone and feel her shudder against me.

It’s not like we’ve never had a snog session or a couple dozen, but somehow this feels different. It’s more intense, more serious. I angle us toward her bed.

Merlin, I love her so much.
22nd-Sep-2006 06:31 pm (UTC)
He loves me. Dean loves me! It feels like my entire world is moving in slow motion. It’s almost as if I’m no longer in my body, and instead I’m watching what’s happening in my bedroom. It’s someone else pulling Dean’s shirt over his head; it’s someone else having their blouse unbuttoned.

Every nerve in my body is standing on end. Dean’s kisses leave my body feeling as if it’s on fire. The feeling in the pit of my stomach reminds me of something that I felt a long time ago, in another life.

I run my hands up Dean’s bare chest, across his bare shoulders. He shudders and recaptures my mouth in a searing kiss. Somehow more clothing finds its way to the floor. Somehow we end up on my bed, Dean’s weight trapping me against the mattress.

Being with Dean feels right. Being with him feels better than anything I’ve felt in a long time. He whispers my name against my ear, breathing heavily. He murmurs that he loves me and that he wants me. My heart feels full, content.

My entire body is hot, and I can see the sweat dripping down Dean’s forehead. It’s hard to catch my breath, but I wouldn’t change these feelings for anything. This is right; nothing else matters now.

I feel more loved right now than I ever have in my entire life. This is one of the few moments in life that is the perfect blend of passion, pleasure, need, and love.

“I love you,” I whisper before completely losing myself in the moment.
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