A Single Red Rose PV AngelFyre McCubbin Finished

AngelFyre, unlike last year, was actually managing to keep it relatively together. When saying goodbye to her family last year, she was pretty certain her parents might be making their first critically bad parenting decision by sending her off to Hogwarts. Her Grandma Ruth had hugged her so tight last year and it was no different this year. She made her laugh again when she reminded AngelFyre that if anything happened and she needed or wanted to come home, if she by God had to crawl on her hands and knees, she would come and get her. That was the little crack in the dam right there, and AngelFyre by God believed her as she hugged her back tightly, finally giving in to the inevitable tears. She really was blessed with the best family. As was Simon. They were both loved beyond measure, in very different ways, but they were beyond a doubt...loved.

She was picked up in her father's arms for a three way hug with him, her, and her mother. It was clear all were sad because no words were spoken, but everything necessary had been said earlier. The tight hug and shower of kisses was just as rewarding, if not moreso. As her father set her down, which was not nearly as long a journey as it had been last year, she felt his hand go up and wave behind her. "Och, Lass. You need to hurry aboard. The whistle's blown and I just saw Simon boarding." He chuckled and hurriedly bent down to put her bag on the train for her, trying to hide the fact he was wiping his own eyes. "Good heavens, AngelFyre lass, this bag is heavy. What do you have in here? Rocks? And he turned to her and winked before scooping her up and placing her on the train.

He whispered in her ear before lifting her up, "You have made us proud every day of your life, M'eudail (Sweetheart). Just keep doing what you have been doing. It has worked beautifully. You know we will miss you every second until Christmas break. Life is a lot less colorful when you are not with us." As he finished his sentence, the train whistle blew again and the wheels started turning on the track, hidden by the billows of white steam. She stood there on the train steps and waved at them until they were out of her scope of vision and then she reluctantly picked up her bag.... her very heavy bag... and started walking in the direction her father had waved at Simon from the platform. She was sad, but the best comfort for her hurting heart was somewhere up ahead in one of these compartments, waiting for her. Simon.

She had so much to tell him and could not wait to hear everything in person they had discussed already over their cells, but the first order of business was going to be to just hold him, and she did not give a whit who else may be around. She had more than a fleeting feeling his priority just might be the same, and she smiled. Her walk was a bit longer than she thought it might be, but that was fine. The anticipation was thrilling. When she found his compartment, she was surprised it was empty save for him. Magic was funny. She would have thought the cars would be filled to the gills, but everyone seemed to be with the large groups they wanted to be with, or with their own private parties if that is what they so desired. As she slid the compartment door open, her eyes went to him first and then to the beautiful rose.

"Pardon me. Is that seat taken?" And she nodded to the seat with the rose while setting her bag down and then hurriedly rushed into his waiting arms. "If it is, what about this spot?" and her answer came in his ever tightening, lingering embrace.

[OOC Note: This can be a wrap up if you'd like, or they can explore some of what happened over the Summer if we want. Doesn't matter to me!]

AngelFyre smiled and allowed herself to relax in his arms. Summer had been wonderful, mostly, but missing Simon had colored everything with the slightest tinge of a gray cloudiness and an ever present dull ache. Yes, they had spent a good deal of time on their cell phones talking and laughing and singing... Simon sang, not AngelFyre!... but though he looked and sounded like Simon on the cell, it was not the same thing. Not nearly.

Here in his arms, her brain could put together the million piece, 3D jigsaw puzzle that completed him.... them. She always, first and foremost, missed the feel of him. Second and third would be his scent and the sound of him... the cadence of his breathing and the rhythm of his heartbeats. Funny the little things her brain catalogued subconsciously, but it all came together perfectly for her without the need to put a thought to it beyond it feeling just... so... right.

As he pulled her down beside him and quoted Tennyson, she just turned her eyes to the rose and twirled it slowly, marveling that he could do that... that he would do that. Midnight reading paid off in dividends big and small it would seem. She snuggled close to his side and buried her face in his neck, delivering an occasional, teasing tongue flick followed closely by three or four feather-light kisses. She chuckled at the thought of him making these roses endlessly, but her heart skipped with joy that he thought of her like that. She knew the feeling so well herself.

"I have missed my boyfriend poet," she whispered into his neck. "I wonder how our gardens would compare. I know mine is glorious, even now. On my dying day I promise you, Simon Kincaid, there will be nothing to rival it. Absolutely nothing." and she squeezed his hand.

"I have something for you, too, but it is not anything as lovely as your perfect rose, but they were made with a lot of love. That I can also promise you." She gave his cheek a quick peck and then she tucked the rose into her hair, bending the stem around her ear to anchor it in place. Turning her head and smiling so he could admire his beautiful handiwork adorning her locks, she stood quickly, taking the two to three steps to get one of her bags. The largest one. The heavy one. Heaving it onto the seat next to where she had been seated, she plopped herself back down next to him. "Your girl is stronger than she looks," and she gave him a wink before opening the bag. She had left his on top because she knew she would see him on the train and she did not want to have to rummage around for them.

"Hmmmmm. Apparently it is your lot in life to get rocks from me," and she laughed while shrugging her shoulders. "But you can blame Grandma Ruth for these. She heard about a project called "The Kindess Project" whereby folks all over the world paint rocks and leave them in random places for someone to find. She thought it would make a fun family project for her, me, and Mom to paint rocks over the summer, so we painted rocks for everyone.... and I do mean everyone.... at Hogwarts. But yours I painted myself. You get two as my boyfriend, mainly because I could not decide which one I liked better, and one for being a Prefect." She gathered the three rocks and placed them one at a time on his thigh.

"Once we get to Hogwarts, I am going to hurry to the Great Hall and put a rock at every place setting before the Sorting ceremony starts. I thought it might be a nice little Welcome Back/Welcome to Hogwarts surprise for everyone. You could do me a real favor though," she said as she handed him a plain brown corrugated box containing another 15 Prefect rocks, "and pass these out to all the other Prefects when you all have your first Prefect meeting or whatever it is you all do. I am not sure I even know who all the Prefects are." Then she realized she had pretty much just made him her pack mule and she stopped short, feeling ashamed of herself and a little embarrassed for imposing on him.

"I am sorry, love. I just gave you a gift with a chore. Not very kind of me, was it? If it is too inconvenient, I will figure it out and get them delivered myself. But either way, I hope you like yours."

And while he was still dealing with the whole rock situation, she looked at him and blurted out of nowhere, "Kendric kissed me. Like, really kissed me."

She fixed her gaze upon him after dropping her carpet bomb, keenly aware that his previously calm, relaxed demeanor was now disrupted and possibly teetering on the edge of a precipice. AngelFyre wanted to proceed cautiously so as not to push him over into whatever abyss he may plunge into, filled with his own demons. On this edge of the abyss, still teetering on solid ground, would be his confusion and doubt but also his ability to reason and trust. This is where all of AngelFyre's hope resided in the moment. If she miscalculated, however, or if Simon was having a particularly weak moment, she could see him tipping over into a pit of jealousy or anger.

She very well knew he was capable of it. She had seen it on full display at the Valentine's Day Tea Party a few months ago. It had all percolated to the surface of his normally serene self at just the mere suggestion her friend Dave had made of wishing to kiss her while offering her a flower. Simon and AngelFyre's relationship status was verrrrrry different on that particular evening, so seeing such a reaction from Simon then had sparked a flame of hope in her heart.... but it also scared her. Not for herself, but for him.

She had never seen him lose control of his normally cool self like that, before or since. Truth is, she still had not seen him really lose it, and she did not wish to. There were other stressors that evening, to be certain, but it had been more than those that pushed him to the brink. He had reined himself in fairly quickly before things became physical, and that had been a huge relief, but it had been enough of a glimpse that AngelFyre could imagine Simon would be a real force to reckon with if ever pushed too far, dhampir strength notwithstanding.

And that is precisely what AngelFyre did not want to do. She did not want to push him. She only ever wanted to draw him towards her. There was no danger of any physical altercation as Kendric was obviously not present, but she loved Simon with every fiber of her being and did not want him to have a moment's doubt about her devotion to him... and him alone. Equally as important to her was that she did not want him to have to endure the emotions associated with jealousy, let alone the stomach turning physical effects of it. Waiting to tell him in person would stave off any number of questions he might have that could have gone unanswered for him over a cell phone, leaving unnecessary imaginings to turn over in his mind. This, she definitely felt, would ultimately be better.

"Kendric kissed me," she repeated. Then she continued quickly, hoping to allay any extreme emotions he may be feeling in the moment. She reached for his hand and her thumb reflexively began to trace slow, soothing circles on the top of his fingers as she continued. As she turned to face him, her right shoulder was now pressed against the cushion that had been supporting her back, and she told him everything.

"It happened the day after I got back home from my visit with you in London, and to address what may be some questions you are having immediately at the outset, the answer is no, I did not kiss him back, nor did I invite it in the first place. Additionally, I waited until now to tell you because it felt like something that I should do in person rather than over our cell phones."

Her thumb continued to move slowly over his fingers as she paused there for a moment to try and gauge his mood. She definitely had his attention. His whole body had tensed and he was hanging on every word she was saying. His normally inviting, golden brown eyes were clouded with confusion, but if there was more there, she was not seeing it. The real tell, however, that there was some degree of upset within him was the furrowed brow accompanied by his rapid, and loud, nose breathing. That was always a dead giveaway.

"He came over in the afternoon and seemed incredibly nervous. He was alone, which was unusual... not unheard of... but unusual. Normally he and Ainsley come over together." She took a deep breath before telling him the part that explained the reason for the kiss. "Kendric told me he loved me. He said he had since the first day we met and that he had been going crazy since meeting you and learning about us. He explained that he figured my being with you was his fault because he had never said anything to me about his feelings, so he was declaring himself then, hoping it would change the course I had followed with you." Again she stopped. Her mouth was dry, but her tongue was beginning to feel thick in her mouth as she pondered, briefly, just how many details would be enough. She quickly landed on just as many as was necessary and no more. She would answer anything he may want to know, but she would volunteer little.

"I was stunned as you may imagine. I knew he had a crush, but I never knew the extent of it. I told him I was flattered and was going to tell him that my heart had irrevocably been given over to your care when he unexpectedly leaned over and locked his lips with mine. When I pulled away and told him how it was with me... with us... he was not pleased." A sadness suddenly overtook AngelFyre and she grew silent, unaware that she was still looking at Simon but no longer seeing him. She was back in her room, reliving those moments.

Simon held her heart, but Kendric had been her boon companion for what felt like forever. Many of her best memories on the farm invariably included him and Ainsley. He was a part of her, but now he was gone. She did not relay to Simon that the exchange had taken place in her bedroom or that Kendric told her that being in there sickened him now with so many Simon mementos to be seen in any direction he looked. AngelFyre knew that while what he had said about his feelings regarding her room might be true, it was so unlike Kendric to express it so harshly and with the intent to cause her pain. And pain it did cause. She immediately wanted to state her objection, but realized he was simply hurt and for good or bad, his anger and hurt were aimed directly at her heart... the very one he had just professed to love. She knew it was very bad when he knocked over the photo of Simon on her bedside table.

When he tried to kiss her again, she was able to evade him and his lips when she quickly stood. In shame or frustration or embarrassment maybe, he simply fell back onto her bed with his hands balled into fists while rubbing furiously at his eyes. He kept repeating over and over how sorry he was. She cautiously sat down beside him once again and listened to him, and while she normally would have offered him comfort by means of a hug, her instincts told her no, not this time. "I know, Kendric. I know. I am sorry, too. I would never wish to hurt you. You know that. I hope you know that, anyway."

He jolted up and off the bed and put both of his hands in his front jeans pockets, heading towards the door. He stopped about halfway there and took 3-4 steps slowly back in her direction. "I am sorry, AF. I gotta go. I don't know how to deal with this, but I do know being around you right now is too much. I'm going to make myself scarce until breathing doesn't hurt. If I don't see you before you head back off to Sim- ... to school, be well and do well." Then he turned heel for the door again. Calling back over his shoulder he told her, "Don't worry. I'll see you at Christmas most likely."

And that had been that. He had walked out that day and she had only seen him in passing a few times at church, but even those moments were filled with awkward silence and avoidance as opposed to awkward attempts at the restoration of a once grand friendship... one sealed with a blood oath even.

The Hogwarts Express in that moment was traveling around a bend at speed, but nothing excessive, when it caught a couple of students off guard in the corridor outside of their compartment. They both lost their balance somewhat and one of them, in an attempt to catch themself, grabbed onto the handle to their compartment and found themselves sliding along with the door, ultimately falling to their knees, yelping in surprise. This commotion broke AngelFyre's concentration and she turned away from Simon to look over her shoulder to see what the heck was going on behind her. The kids must be first years as she recognized neither of them. They apologized profusely for the interruption and left after closing the compartment door once again.

AngelFyre turned her eyes back to Simon, picking up where her story left off, for him at least. "Kendric left and I have had no contact with him since that day. He told me being around me was something he could not do." She sighed and then shrugged, trying to keep her sadness at bay. "Maybe at Christmas he told me," and then she just sat back in her seat, still holding Simon's hand in hers, hoping her plan for telling him had not been a botched failure.

Simon was spiraling. If this was her brilliant plan actually working, she would have really hated to see what failure would have looked like.... or sounded like. Even in the midst of his outburst, AngelFyre still believed she had made the right choice. This kind of a reaction was precisely what she had not wanted him to endure alone. No good would have come of that, but was any good going to come of all of this?

When he first spoke, she was confused. She truly did not recognize what she was hearing coming out of his mouth as her boyfriend's voice. She saw him looking at her as he spoke, through her, really, but none of it was registering in her brain as Simon. She even watched his lips moving at one point, half expecting to see them moving out of synch with the words he was speaking, much like a foreign film that had been dubbed because the experience of what she was hearing from him in those moments was just that foreign to her. None of it for her was about what he was saying as much as it was about how he was saying it.

There was no softness. No tenderness. No love in his voice. No humanity.

And an alarm sounded in her brain at that last observation. All things good and beautiful in his voice had been replaced with a measured, chilling distance, coiled in an undercurrent of threats, as if he was poised and ready to strike. His eyes never left her as his tone ran the gamut of accusatory questioning all the way up to yelling... expletives included... but she had the distinct sense she was not his mind's focal target, let alone his visual one. Not at all.

Simon was there... but not.

And he was angry. Bad combination.

One thing was crystal clear, however. He knew there was more to the story, but she would not even begin to think about telling him absolutely everything until this Simon... this dark Simon... retreated.

She sat silently, watching him and listening to him closely. The distraction they both needed to draw them out of the darkness enveloping them had been the two first year's stumbling into their compartment. The bubble had, at last, been popped. The yelling subsided. Her story was completed, for the time being anyway, but bitterness still managed to coat one final, voiced worry of his.

Soon enough, his gaze was redirected out the window.

Moments of thunderous silence then filled the space around them. She raised herself from the bench seat next to him and walked over to the compartment door, locking it. She pulled down the shade on the corridor window and then eagerly slipped back into her place next to him.

Wherever else would she go? Her place would always be next to him, especially in times such as these. She had a sharp intake of breath as his hand reached out for her hand. AngelFyre tenderly grasped it with both of hers, and slowly shook her head 'No' when shame and confusion brought him to suggest the idea of leaving.

Her Simon was back with her now.

"No, mo chridhe (my heart). Where would... where could... you possibly go? There is no running from this. We figure this out together, or we do not, but regardless, we do it together. I think we both know what just happened here, and Simon... you are not alone. You hear me now and inscribe it on your slow-beating heart as the solemn promise it is from me to you," and she shifted his arm around her waist, making room to be able to snuggle against his chest, wrapping her own arms around him. "I will never leave you to deal with this alone. Not ever."

She had her eyes closed and her head pressed against his chest. She knew he was calming down. All signs pointed to it. There was no more loud nose breathing for one and his heart rate had dropped considerably for another. His body had been so tense and rigid when she first latched onto him that she felt like she was clinging to a steel girder, but that too, had changed, and it changed quite rapidly. Now she was feeling something entirely different overtake him as he was coming back into himself.

AngelFyre was a soul who cried easily. She did not mind it really, other than it almost always seemed to put most people ill at ease. She cried when she was happy. She cried when she was sad. She cried when she heard a beautiful piece of music or saw the majesty in a beautiful sunset. And she would almost invariably cry if anyone, or any creature, was crying in her presence.

Her father and her Grandma Ruth had never made her feel bad about her hypersensitivity in this regard. They both had explained to her at different times and in their singularly, beautifully unique ways, that she had nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed about. She was simply a girl who was open to her feelings and to those around her. This was not a bad thing she had been assured. So it was because she was used to crying easily that she was also used to how her body felt when she put tremendous effort into not crying. It trembled, but the trembling centered in her torso and really nowhere else, except her throat and lips. This is what she was now feeling from Simon.

He was coming back, but he was still holding back, or trying to anyway. He had been through so much already. She did not want him to have to deal with the added burden of shame or embarrassment in front of her, but at the same time, if he could not feel free to be himself, his whole self in front of her of all people, then what could she ever really be to him that say, Clair or Gabe could not?

Undecided as to what to do for him in the moment, she heard him speak in the softest of whispers, "I don't like myself this way," and AngelFyre felt her heart crack wide open. If it were at all humanly possible she knew she would do anything to be able to remove this burden from him, but she knew the impossibility of such want. In that moment, hearing his soft, bleak agony, she began to feel herself struggling with the same tremors she still felt within Simon. Both of them were trying so hard to hold back, but why? The boy had to know her love for him was unconditional and absolute. She knew his was for her. Her broken heart was screaming to her that they would feel so much better if they could just hold each other and cry until there were no more tears... blood red or otherwise.

Then in an even softer whisper came, "I don't want to be this," and she felt a splash on her wrist. She opened her eyes and looked to it, seeing only a single, dark crimson droplet. It was so beautiful. All else receded into white noise for her as her focus was on his tear.

She sat up, not looking to him. Her eyes were transfixed on the manifestation of his pain now residing on her wrist. The color - rich. The shape - perfect. And when she brought her wrist to her mouth and his tear disappeared at the slow passing of her tongue, she now knew more. The taste? A mixture of shame, regret, confusion, pain, stubborness, wishful thinking, but also exquisite sweetness, selflessness, humor, caring, bravery, loyalty, faith, and love. An elixir of all things Simon.

"Simon, I-... I hurt when you hurt. I know this is hard on you, and not what you want to be, but my love, it is all you. And you are perfect to me, even in your imperfections. Everyone... everyone... has their personal demons. I am not trying to minimize this at all, so please do not think that I am, but maybe we should look at the positives here. You came back from the brink. You did not stay in that dark place. I believe that was the force of your incredible character at work. Just as our research has indicated, with practice and maturity, you can likely learn to control it. If anyone can, I know it will be you."

She still had not looked at him since she had wrapped her arms around him earlier. While she had been speaking, AngelFyre had been looking down at his hand. It was not because she was afraid of him or afraid of what he would look like if crying tears of blood, but because she did not know if he was ready for her to see it. She may have sworn to never leave him to deal with all of this alone, but the boy still deserved his privacy and the right to control how much he did or did not want to share.

"I love you and if I could take this from you, it would already be gone."