closed Invitation and Persuasion

Gideon Athanatos was not pleased.

The Hufflepuff had endured the tedium of introductions, finding that he already knew most of his cabinmates: his younger brother Aamon and his elder brother Mathias as well as his future sister-in-law Winnie Harper were there as well as a few random-seeming students. The girls did not appear to be particularly interesting, Avis Marlong and Nabi Park. They existed within proximity of the Athanatos but he was not entirely certain if they would at any point enter his orbit. Matthre Campbell, on the other hand was a new plaything that did not know better.

Giddy had surveyed his cabin mates with mild amusement and muted disdain, they seemed dull. After sewing a hint of chaos into the cabin, they had all departed for the welcoming tea. Tea? It seemed like an uptight choice but this was the French. After they left, Gideon settled his trunk full of secrets and silk into the very room he had handpicked for its strategic advantages—

And yet, for all his careful maneuvering, for all his expectations, there was one unforgivable oversight.

Taylor Athanatos, his younger cousin was not there.

A mistake. An annoyance. A miscalculation that set a cold, slow-burning irritation curling under his skin. They seemed to find it necessary to room him with his other, less interesting family members, but they sent her off to thrive on her own.

Of course, it wasn’t truly a problem. Not in the grand scheme of things. He was not concerned about her ability to thrive, she was an Athanatos afterall.

But Gideon did not like to be separated from the things that were his.

And Taylor, whether she realized it or not, belonged to him.

Not in the obvious way, no. Not in the way that would make their family stare and whisper. But in the way that set his teeth on edge when he saw her with others. In the way that made his fingers tighten at his sides when she spoke of other men with amusement in her voice. After her father died, she was sent away to the furthest reaches of Russia to live with her aunties. He disliked how this geographical barrier prevented him from seeing her at his whim.

It was a problem.

And Gideon did not allow problems to linger.

The halls of Beauxbatons were too bright, too delicate, all lace and gold and soft watercolor skies. He hated it. It was too pretty in the wrong ways, too curated, too clean. It was even decorated for the holiday. They were trying too hard he mentally commented, all these hearts and flowers. This desperate attempt at romance.

Taylor did not belong in a place like this. Surrounded by flowers and pathetic suitors offering her sweets and blooms, silks and gems, as if she did not already have both in abundance at home with him.

And yet, when he found her, standing at the edge of one of the wide, arched balconies, looking out over the gardens and courtyards below, Gideon felt something tighten in his chest. She was not dressed in pink frills, daring to consume the holiday with the same desperation as her peers. Dark lace, long sleeves, a feminine silhouette

She was breathtaking, wasn’t she?

Not in the way others saw her, not in the way they whispered and admired her from afar. But in the way she had always been—untouchable, untamed, completely oblivious to the storm she brewed in him.

Gideon approached with deliberate ease, his footsteps barely a whisper against the polished floor. He was not slouching, wearing a velvet jacket and dark trousers on a deep plum color. The silk shirt beneath, a shock of teal. His blonde hair tousled, adding an additional inch and a half to his height.

"Did you miss me, Taylor?"

[Godmodding approved] She turned at the sound of his voice, and there—there it was.

That little flicker of recognition, that moment of relief, of ease, the way Taylor's expression shifted ever so slightly when she realized it was him.

Not Mathias.

Not Aamon.

Not Vladimir.

But him.

He was seeing what he wanted to see, but reality did not matter when the universe he desired could be one of his own making. He considered roaming the gardens, finding mischief and entertainment among the blooms. But there was a social engagement to attend, as uninteresting an affair as it would appear.

"I was beginning to think I’d have to suffer this trip without you," he continued, his voice light as he spoke. His mask firmly in place.