Cherry on Top Private Closed

Oh Merlin, Gem had really done it this time. He wasn't necessarily sure how things managed to get this out of hand, but the bottom line seemed to be that Catriona was upset, at him, and he needed to know why. A couple of ideas flashed into his head, maybe because he was being annoying, or maybe she felt excluded-- was it because he complemented Elzabeth's laugh? No, it couldn't have been... that'd just be stupid, right? Well, he and James did discuss how some girls had some weird brain fungus going around, maybe it was that.

He smirked at the thought.

He knew that 's very first place to scurry off to would be the library, so... he headed there, first. He was nervous, overwhelmed, there had been so much drama between boys and girls and boys and boys and girls and girls-- he'd never thought he'd be the subject of that, but here he was, chasing after her like an idiot. Maybe she just didn't want to be followed, she had 'whatever'd him-- the more he thought about it, the more flustered he got, and the less he wanted to chase after her as if he were in some kind of a stupid movie.

Maybe he was just a stupid boy who didn't know how to keep his mouth shut. The more he thought about the jokes he was making about the pillows, the harder it was not to visibly cringe. But she was being unreasonable-- or, was she? Was he just being dumb? He didn't know. He didn't understand, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

His sneakers slid along the hardwood floors, sniffing around for his friend, his clammy hands shoved deeply into his pockets so no one would see how much his fingers were twitching around, itching to grab fabric and fidget. He felt so bad, so bad that his stomach hurt and felt a thick, horrible lump in his throat. He wasn't guilty, he was angry. He was angry that he didn't know why his friend was upset, he was angry that she'd just given him the cold shoulder for seemingly no reason, he was angry that something that was her problem was making his heart sting, his brain curl, and his mouth feel numb and taste sour like regret.

Regret.
The word paired with the feeling was just as bitter as the situation, hard bed to lie on, the same bitterness he felt when he'd been given horrible, ugly glances by his father, or the shitty side-hugs his mom gave him whenever she wanted him to go away-- that's what it felt like, cold and evil, something that just wouldn't leave him alone, it burned and it made his face red, his eyes watering up with hot tears that were just begging to roll down his cheeks and make his cheeks and throat itch.

He bit back the anger and kept looking.
He looked behind every book case, shelf, past any table or under a chair, in a corner, or wherever-- it was harder to want to find her the more time he applied to it. I haven't checked deep enough, he thought, you aren't looking hard enough, Gem. You're not looking hard enough for the girl who blew you off, looked at you like you were the most annoying little kid to ever exist. Looked at you like you were a burden, you aren't looking hard enough. You never. Look. Hard enough.

It was almost as if fate had it that he saw the familiar face, the blue eyes that relieved him of so much tension, the warm cheeks he wanted to pinch like a grandma would, the lips he loved to watch talk-- all of it made him feel like shit now. He never wanted to look at her in the face again, he never wanted to see those cold blue eyes bore into his brown ones again, he never wanted to see her cheeks light up because of a dumb joke he made that only she thought was funny, and he never wanted to see her mouth move again.

He was stuck, his chest felt heavy with rage-- he wanted to yell at her. He wanted to beg her to tell him why she'd gone off like that, why she'd made such a heavy resemblance to his father's disappointment whenever he messed up and didn't realize it. Why she had to do that? Why did she have to do that?
His energy to shout at her, tell her off, anything, any of that went away remarkably quickly when he saw that there were tears in her eyes-- with that single realization, his fury crumbled, and so did he.
His knuckles stopped being clenched so tightly, and even moved out of his pockets. His knees buckled, and he fell squatted down to her level, his own hot, thick tears that reminded him of regret were staining his cheeks.

"Why?" He mumbled, his voice quiet, weak. Weak. He was nothing compared to her, she made him feel like the smallest boy in the world, powerless, like he had not one single ounce of control. "Why did you..." He sniffled, wiping his face with his sleeves so his cheeks wouldn't be all itchy and annoying, "Why'd ya 'ave ta do that, laa? Why'd you joost give me the cold shoulder like tha'? It fookin' hurt. It hurt so mooch, and I..." He stopped, realizing that if he spoke another word, the lump in his throat would make him sob. He sat there, right across her, completely wordless, powerless-- he had nothing to say to her. This was something he hadn't felt in a long time, except it was much, much worse. He never wanted to feel it again.

He'd found her. How had he found her?

Catriona wanted to melt into the cold, hard floor, to sink into it until all she could hear were faint echos. It reminded her of playing hide and seek when she was younger. She sat there in her wooden wardrobe for what felt like ages, mouth set in a smug smile. They didn't find her, but after a while it felt more like losing than winning. Disappointment leaked into her smile until she realized she couldn't breathe because she was choking back tears. They'd left her there. They'd left her there, forgotten and covered in cobwebs and Merlin knew what. They'd forgotten about her.

If her own family forgot about her so easily, why couldn't her friends. Why couldn't he? They all forgot about her eventually, her and her stupid, boring presence, like a black stain on everyone's lives. She tried so hard to make everyone like her. Her muggle classmates ignored her still, even when they came to her for help, with scrapes or bruises. Even then, they did not remember her name. She helped them anyway, because she was helpful. If she couldn't be interesting, the least she could do was be helpful. Maybe they'd like her then.

But they didn't. They would leave when she went to the park, like she was the negative side of a magnet. They always left, no matter how hard she tried.

He didn't. He liked her. He listened to her. And look what she'd done.

She wanted to fix this. She needed to fix this but she didn't know how. He was right there and all she could do was stare at him, like he was the answer to all the universe's problem (he was the answer to hers at least). She wanted to reach out so badly, like there was something drawing her eyes to his, like she'd finally found the other side of the magnet.

Oh.

That was what Charlotte meant wasn't it? That... feeling. Well, now was a rather inconvenient time for a realization. So she did what she did best. She pushed the thought down, as far as it would go until all that remained was the regret and the guilt, coating the back of her throat like cough syrup.

Her mind was screaming at her to get a grip. To do something, anything. There were tears leaking out of Gem's eyes and she wanted them to go away. His face never looked more beautiful than when he smiled. It was like it was made for smiling. And here he was, tears spilling down his cheeks like a waterfall of bitter sadness. Before she could stop herself, her hand was up, wiping the tears away with the pad of her thumb. His cheeks were warm under her finger. She flinched away once she realized what she'd done.

"I--" The words were stuck in her throat. For once, her eloquent train of thought stumbled to a halt and all she could saw was "I'm sorry," over and over again until the words lost their meaning.

Her words stuttered to a stop as she hesitated, examining his face like it was the last time she'd be seeing it for a while. She wished she had a camera or something, just so she could remember everything, from the moment they'd met to now. Every bit of it was wonderful and she wanted to keep it as close to her heart as possible. She'd wanted to protect him, that day in the library. What could she do now that she knew it was her that hurt him the most?

She didn't remember moving, but suddenly her arms were around him. "I love you and I'm sorry." She knew it wasn't enough. It would never be enough, but maybe it was good enough for today. She had the rest of their lives to remind him after. And if he pushed her away, at least she had one last moment to remember him by. One last time where he made her feel better than she should have.

It was enough, and that was the problem. The problem was his lack of ability to hold on to things when he needed to, when he needed a vice grip on reality, he'd let it go and forget about everything the universe had ever done to wrong him. It was nasty, like a dog bite, it lingered, it burned, and it wouldn't go away. None of it ever went away. Maybe he wouldn't remember what someone did to him, but he would always remember how it felt, and it carried him to sleep and brought him to a damp, cold space in his life. There wouldn't be a single word anyone could say that would make him feel better about every single one of his faults. He just wanted to be loved, and that was all; the sappy, dripping, begging desperation for genuine love and care, he wanted it. He wanted it so badly, and he craved it to a point of an overdrive. He never felt love when he looked into his dad's eyes, and perhaps he saw some with his mother, but it felt so covered up by pity. He would never heal from that, no. He couldn't think of anyone who looked at him with admiration, he never even considered that maybe someone held a strong need to make sure he was happy, and that was fine; he'd accepted it.
He was doing so well, not knowing what it looked like, what it felt like to be looked at like you were the center of someone's entire universe.

It wasn't until he got a taste of it, that he couldn't get enough.
The way Catriona looked at him was so distinct, the way her expression would soften and her lips would curl up, or maybe when he made her laugh and noticed her gaze lingered for a little too long-- that was his taste, and he couldn't get enough. He never wanted it to end, and if it did? He wanted to think that he'd be able to go back to being able to handle the way his father stared at him and looked away because of the disappointment that was so clear it was painful, but he knew he wouldn't be able to. Once he knew what love felt like, what it was capable of, he would never be the same person again, and he wasn't sure how okay with that he was going to be.

Immediately, he sunk into her arms and shoved his teary, ugly, stuffy face into her shoulder, his breathing coming in and out sharp, labored, it disgusted him. He would never be able to show her how much he loved her, so he held his breath and waited for his throat to stop burning and for his eyes to stop leaking so he could quit embarrassing himself.

"I-- hn, I loov ya-" another annoying sniffle, "too. I do, I loov y--ye so much, it hurts." It hurt, and he'd wished it hadn't. He wished love would solve all of his problems, but they didn't, because love felt like a problem he wouldn't be able to quit. He had gotten a taste, and that was enough to have him hooked, and he felt consumed by regret, anger, and remorse. He had let himself go, and he didn't care, because he felt solace in 's arms. By that point, and that point alone, he couldn't think of a better place to be than now. He loved her, he decided, and that was that.

How had Gem wormed his way into her heart so quickly? It seemed like only yesterday when they'd met and suddenly all Catriona could think about was him. She couldn't even remember a time at Hogwarts before she'd known Gem. It was like all her memories were different now, softer with Gem's warmth behind them. Even the annoyance she'd felt in the Small Hall that day was tinged with fondness, for Charlotte and for Gem. All she knew now were brown eyes and dark hair and wonderful, beautiful smiles that made her feel like she was the most important person in the entire world. How could she ever think he would forget her, not when he looked at her like that. Like she was something good. Like she was actually there.

She'd never met someone who'd actually listened to her. He did. He cared enough to search for her, wading around the cobwebs of her insecurities like he truly saw her. In the weeks that they'd known each other, he'd already bypassed all her walls and crawled into the deepest recesses of her mind. He found her, something not even her family had done.

Gem was warm and he smelled like cinnamon and old books. Hugging him felt like coming home and she didn't want to leave. But there was something she needed to do. There were words, sitting ready at the tip of her tongue. Words that Gem needed to know.

She pulled away from him and felt the loss of warmth acutely, like her favorite sweater had just been abruptly ripped from her. She wanted to retreat back into his arms immediately, but she didn't. Instead she reached out, cupping his face between her palms gently. "I'm sorry I pushed you so hard at the lake."

In a jolt, she realized this was how her mother felt. She was always pushing Catriona to step out of her comfort zone, but she never seemed to realize how difficult that was for her. She hadn't known what to say before, but she knew now. She needed to say what she'd always wanted to hear, all those times her mother had pushed her over the edge.

"It's ok if you don't like yourself right now," she paused, trying to collect her thoughts, "but I promise you I'm not lying when I say you're the most beautiful person I've ever seen. Inside and out." It was true; looking at Gem was like seeing a beautiful book in a library and cracking it open to realize the story inside is just as wonderful (if not more so).

Gem was the best thing that had ever happened to her.

Gem remained in his spot, unmoving. He didn't want to move, he wanted to bask in the comfort of someone's arms-- at this point, he couldn't care less who it was, he just wanted to feel something real. Eventually, his arms ached from the grasp and he shifted a bit, only for his cheeks to be caressed in a gentle hold.

He wasn't confident, this was a given. Who was truly confident? He sniffled, staying quiet even after her apology. He hadn't even considered how she may feel when he expressed that much discomfort getting his clothes off to swim, much less having clothes cling to his body thanks to water. He always looked wrong, with the baby fat that lingered on his body-- he wished he had a lean, healthy-looking body like James, or like his dad, but instead he had to work with... whatever this was. He just didn't take care of it, he hid his insecurities under clothes, distracting conversations, or books. He generally refused to acknowledge this problem, but he knew it was there. That was all he needed for him to feel like shit about it, nothing more.

"It's fine," He wheezed, inhaling quickly so he could attempt to catch his breath. This wasn't a very good move, seeing as he choked on his tears some more and ended up coughing really embarrassingly hard for an even more humiliating amount of time. He felt like a child who'd just fallen and was being consoled by his mother-- he was supposed to be consoling Catriona, not the other way around. Fuck, he thought, you're so selfish. Man up.

"Look, it's fine. Really, it is. You don't have to say that," You don't have to lie, he wanted to say, but he didn't. Again, turning things over to make them about him. "Thanks. Thank you, I, ehm... I appreciate it a lot. Yes." He quickly rubbed his nose and cheeks clean, moving his head out of 's hands, shuffling back a bit. He probably looked a bit rude, so he stammered a vague apology under his breath and sat across her, cross-legged. He refused to make eye contact, but he spoke anyway.
"I um... I wrote ya somefin' a while ago, an' just never gave it to you, but I guess now would be a good time. So here. The note, here it is. The note I'm-" He fished into his pocket, pulling a folded up parchment out. "I'm holding it, take it."

8.19.19

Catriona,

I know being my friend is hard, but I'm glad you take the time to spend time with me. You're a lot of things, and to be frank, you're one of my top priorities. Everyone wants their life on a dessert spoon, and that's just not how it works. I'm guilty of wanting that, but... I'm over it. And I'm not going to act like a fool and just pretend that I'll do anything for you, but I can promise you that I've been searching from the bottom, left, right, and top for someone like you. You're not troubled, or maybe you are and I'm an idiot, but I'm still trying to figure you out. You're like an elaborate puzzle, and I'm still looking for all the pieces. But maybe you're just not meant to be found out, and that's okay. I'll stay stuck on the puzzle, and I'm happy to watch you grow, and find all the pieces along the way.

You look sad, but I don't care. The only unhappy end to this entire life I'm leading is you leaving, and all I want is to think about you and your smile, you're sitting at a diner in your life, and I'm your miserable waiter serving you the miserable food you didn't order, but you're nice and take it, and while the food is overcooked, you smile and pretend to enjoy it. I don't know why. You should just demand a refund and then go to a different restaurant. You're weird.
Maybe you're a little ambitious, but that's okay. I like to watch it. I like to watch you try to walk on water, just make sure you wear your comfortable shoes, because you might run into some tricky monsters. You can beat them, though. Because you're really smart and strong. You'll cry tears of coconut water, and you'll bleed polkadot ink and it'll get everywhere, but I don't mind getting it on myself so you don't feel alone. I'll do anything with you if you let me. I'll think about you every day, and hope you're happy. You're too good for me. You're too good for anyone.

Gem.

He seemed a bit bashful, but he still refused to look up. He really wanted to look up, but he also felt too ashamed of himself to dare. It was awful, how that worked out. He just wanted to lay down and die. He had opened up way too much, but it was too late to really take it back, that would probably make the situation worse. God, he was so stupid. He hated this. He hated everything.

Oh, she thought. He didn’t believe her. His words bounced madly in Catriona’s mind, like a ping pong ball being attacked by eight year olds. Why didn’t he believe her? Why did he assume she was lying? She wanted him to understand so badly, it was like an ache in her chest, one that wouldn’t go away no matter how much she tried ignoring it, a little voice in her head that told her Gem didn’t know what he was worth. He didn’t know how much he meant to her and to everyone else. She hadn’t been able to ignore it since that day at the lake.

And Merlin, she couldn’t forget the way he’d looked at her then. Like he couldn’t imagine ever being normal to other people. She didn’t understand how he could possibly look at himself and not see brilliance like she did. Like everyone did. She didn’t understand, but she could try, for him. Every wound could be healed with patience, love, and acceptance. Not that Gem was something to be fixed. He was perfection in the body of a human, how could anyone wish to change him?

She was thinking herself in circles again, something she only realized when she noticed the piece of parchment being held out to her. She reached out, plucking it gently from Gem’s hands like it was something to be revered. (It was.)

Unfolding it carefully, she began to read to herself.

She felt the tears creeping up on her but she did nothing to stop them, only moving the parchment away so it wouldn’t sully the letter.

The tight ball of anxiety and worry sitting deep in her chest loosened as she read, as if there were fingers slowly undoing the knots. She felt like she was suspended in the air, floating along, buoyed by the wind and bathed by the sun. She’d made friends with him almost by accident, by fate, like when you accidentally knock over a pot of ink only to realize that the way it blooms on the parchment is more beautiful than anything you could have ever made on your own.

She could remember seeing him, after that day in the library. She’d glanced at him so often she’d memorized the way he looked when he smiled, the way he looked when he laughed. Every inch of his features was etched into her mind like that of an art historian studying the Mona Lisa. Perhaps this was what Basil felt after painting Dorian Gray, though she supposed that Gem was a much better person than Dorian was. Was that creepy? Probably, but Catriona couldn’t bring herself to care.

Gem thought she was interesting enough to stay friends with. Gem thought she was interesting. Just that was enough to make Catriona want to smile until her cheeks cracked. She wanted to live like this forever, warm with the memory of their second meeting and held in place by Gem’s eyes and her hands on the parchment. The moment was alive, pulsing with light, as if it could scare Dementors off from miles away.

She folded the parchment back up carefully, creasing the parchment in all the places he had, before tucking it into the folds of her robe where it would be safe.

She paused, words sticking on their way up her throat. “I— I’ve never met anyone like you. I’ve never met someone who remembered me, really.” She cleared her throat in an effort to sound a bit closer to normal. “You’re the first one who cared enough to.” She laughed, a wet, stupid sound. “You’re the best waiter in the whole entire universe. And I happen to love overcooked food.” She smiled at Gem, before enveloping him in another hug.

“Making friends with you is the best thing I’ve ever done,” she mumbled into his shoulder, quiet enough not to seem jarring, but loud enough that he couldn’t miss it. Catriona didn’t know how long it would take for him to believe her, but from now until forever she would be by his side to remind him.

Gem was still stuffy, but he managed to pull a face when told him she liked overcooked food.

"Ew, gross," He mumbled, letting himself fall into her grasp, his hands clutching tightly around her like he'd never let her go. "Overcooked food is disgusting."

He'd figured as much that the issue was solved, but it hadn't necessarily occurred to him that the initial problem-- the thing that started this in the first place-- wasn't quite answered; what had she been so upset about?
The only reason he was letting that question remained unanswered was because he risked getting into more emotional turmoil with her, and frankly, he didn't have the energy for that. He'd barely had enough in him to crack a grossed out face that she probably didn't even see in the first place-- ah, no matter.

He let them stay in place until he felt like it was a creepy long time to carry out an embrace, it was only then that he exhaled and pulled himself back. He did it reluctantly, but it had to be done, at the risk of someone seeing them and thinking it was some weird thing happening-- not that he cared what other people thought, but... well, you got the idea.

"I'm a bit tired, should we--" He yawned, sniffling a few times to really exercise his point, "mmh, should we git goin'? I feel like I'm about ta pass out right here n' now." He glanced at her, his already heavy eye bags even heavier, somehow, and puffy. "I'll ehm... well, you can read me to sleep so I don't get left alone wiv me thoughts. In tha... thuh common room. Th' couch, it's quite comfortable." He stood up, his legs wobbling a bit. "C'mon, we've had quite the day, aye? Feel like I'm about to pass out right 'ere." He paused, "Did I say tha' alreadeh? I'm pretty sure I did. Yeh. Wotever. Let's go." He held his hand out for her to hold, cracking the smallest smile, gentle and reassuring.

A laugh spilled out of Catriona, unbidden. "After you eat enough of Will's food, you get used to it. Kind of like going noseblind but for food." It was pretty bad actually. Catriona couldn't stomach cheese toast that wasn't burnt, now, something that continually perplexed Freddie, who couldn't stand Will's cooking and complained about it several times a day. "Plus, I'm weird," she said, shrugging.

She almost managed to forget about what was bothering her in the first place. It came back to her like a wave crashing on a rocky beach. That ugly, rotten feeling in the pit of her stomach earlier was gone now, but the memory was still there... Remembering it made her feel like she was watching her life through a frosted glass pane, seeing everyone talk and laugh, perfectly fine without her. It was like her first day in choir when she was young. After the second day she realized that if she stopped singing, no one would notice. They wouldn't care.

But this was different. If humans were unique and different, why was she the exception? That was the thing, she wasn't. And it wasn't like being interesting was a character trait, so why did Catriona put so much weight on it?

She filed the thoughts away for further introspection when she was alone.

Catriona watched Gem yawn, feeling one creep up on her as well. "You're right, we should probably head back to the common room. I'd prefer not passing out," she said, laughing a little. "I'll read to you, but I get to choose the book." She held his hand lightly and pulled herself up. "I promise not to pick Hogwarts: A History... though it could be fun to read it with cool accents and stuff." Her stomach flipped at the sight of Gem's small smile. Charlotte was wrong, wrong, wrong.

"And, uh... thanks for coming after me. I know I acting weird; it wasn't your fault. But I appreciate that you came anyway."