Wandering (Gin)

Ginevra nearly snorted when Darren took her hometown to mean Hogwarts. Yes, a majority of their younger years had been spent in the school and the castle was like a second home, but surely he could not assume that if he did not know the male, the only logical solution was he had been from another house. She scanned his face for a light to go off and placed her hand on her forehead, rubbing her skull upon realizing that he had given no further thought to alternatives. “No Darren, he was not in Slytherin. He’d likely have been a Ravenclaw.” The consideration had crossed her mind and was easily enough assumed. She had always been attracted to intellect and in this case, there was no difference. It felt hypocritical to admit but Ginevra felt she was not ready to identify him as a muggle if Darren was not putting the pieces together. What if he looked at her as if she were somehow tainted? A thought that tasted real sour considering her current blood status.

Ginevra had wondered what would have happened if she had meet the muggle male first. She had told herself to not cross that line, that the train of thought would do her no good. The blonde had ventured down the path anyways, ultimately reaching the presumption that she could have loved him if Darren had not already had such an imprint on her heart. She had spent weeks trying to convince herself if she could picture what a life could have been like with the muggle, she should give him a chance, attempt to open herself to a scenario that was likely to end a lot simpler. After all, when she had left the manor, she had been determined to move on from the constant pining after someone who did not deserve her. Ultimately, she had decided to part ways with the male not because she did not have the capacity to love him, but because it did not feel that she could give her whole self to him. There would always be a piece of her that he could not know or understand. In the back of her mind, she had known eventually acceptance would have had to be a consideration, that she would not have been able to love him the way she deserved, but blaming her Wizarding connections had been easier at the time.

Ginevra had monitored the anger rising in Darren, feeling the heat through the places their skin touched. What she had not been expecting was his anger to launch him into standing position, her arse handing solidly on the floor. Fuming, her fingers curled and stretched, releasing the tension that her head was screaming to release. Slowly standing, she glared over at him, taking in his shirtless torso. She wanted so badly for all of her anger to overtake other bodily reactions, but as she scanned over his body, Ginevra realized she had momentarily stopped listening to the words that were rampaging out of his mouth. Moving her eyes up to his, she was only all too aware that the stereotype would have had the reserve. However, it seemed to be Darren who had managed to find resolve in stomping down urges. Her? She, fairly consistently, had been the guiltier party when it came to openly sexualizing him.  

It seemed like everything was moving in slow motion. On the count of one, two, three, she sucked in another breath and tried to avoid being a total wreck both on the in and outside. “I have not and will never represent your treasured lifestyle as she could, and still can. I may as well have thrown any dignity I could have had in this house off the cliff with Lucy’s ring.” Ginevra had not intended it, but she heard it as Lucy’s name turned into a sneer upon leaving her lips. Even prior to her having turned, her muggle father would have made her a stain on his side and she was all too aware of this. Stating that he was okay with sacrificing what a pureblood lifestyle and status meant to him was one thing but truly meaning it was a different story. She watched as he gestured to his family crest. “You seem to forget that my mother gave up all of this to be with my father. That I was the result of this.” Her mom had never acted as if she had been at fault for the lifestyle change, but there had occasionally been lingering guilt that she was one of two reasons her mother could never have returned.

Storming away to her workbag, she ripped open the zipper and shuffled around until she felt the familiar feeling of her wand between her fingers. She shifted her feet and returned back to the sitting room, trying to maintain a semblance of her composure. It was taking everything in her to not run across the room and tackle him the second the words ‘I love you’ had surfaced. How long had she waited to hear this from him? “You could deal with this?” she pointed her wand at the right pant leg, allowing the entire leg to rip and drop to the floor. Removing her pants would have been the easier, more feasible option, but the blonde had chosen this option for two reasons. First off, her anger was flaring bright enough that dramatics came naturally. Secondary, she was aware enough that exposing more of her skin complicated matters; not because she did not trust Darren to keep his composure, easily while angered, but because she did not trust her personal restraint.  

Three scars now showed and Ginevra took a moment to trace the tip of her wand across her thigh. “Or this?” she moved her wand to her abdomen, continuing the segment of motions until she had traced the scar along her collarbone. She blinked as she registered that her wand had began to emit hot sparks, removing the tip and hanging her arms at her side. Leaning her head back and staring towards the ceiling, she continued to blink as angry tears swelled in her eyes. “I am not something you can momentarily accept. What if love isn’t enough?” she looked back at him, a little taken aback by his question.

Was there supposed to be a different place, a different time, where they would have worked? What if this was the question that ultimately would have her leaving the manor, truly never returning? “First off, bold of you to assume that I want children.” At this point, she was being a brat and she knew it. It had never been hidden that she wanted children. It was quite likely that she had mentioned it in one of her rampages against his stubbornness. Children had been one of the driving factors for having forced the consideration of exploring.. options, for trying to move on. “Secondly, why we would not be able to have children?” she returned his gaze, slowly starting to put the pieces together.

She may have been a nurse, a nurse specializing in creature injuries at that, but this had been a piece of herself that she had been ready to accept a reality that meant letting go.

“Likely been?” Darren repeated incredulously, as he put things together. Practically every wizarding child born in Britain went to Hogwarts, which must mean… “You dated a muggle?!” He couldn’t help keep the revulsion out of his voice. He couldn’t even imagine it. For Darren, muggles were an ignorant, simpleminded bunch who had nothing to do with his kind. He had hardly ever interacted with them in his life and could not imagine how Ginevra could possibly see anything in a muggle guy. “How…Why??” he spluttered, unable to even phrase a coherent question to interrogate her with. His irritation at her was increasing by the moment. Her having a muggle dad was one thing, but how could she embrace that side of her so openly, having now become a part of the wizarding world?

He watched, still furious, as she got up from the floor after he had made her fall. He hadn’t meant to, of course, but his anger was getting the better of him. Darren noticed, however, that while he had been talking her gaze had moved down from his eyes. He would have liked to act on that, to close the distance between them, hold her to him again, but he waved the thought from his head. He had neglected facing the issues at hand already, but he was now determined to resolve them one way or another.

The matter with Lucretia though, and Gin’s jealousy and reservations, didn’t particularly interest him anymore. Yes, Lucretia was a match more befitting of his blood, tradition, and status. But Gin offered something much more important to him. Whether Ginevra believed him or not, Darren had, in that moment at Diagon Alley, accepted that he was willing to abandon his belief in pure bloodlines and his status among purebloods to be with Ginevra. The adrenaline rush had made him forget his other reservations, but her not being a pureblood seemed to have been of little consequence when he had finally given into his feelings. Besides, the obsession with blood had just been an idea he had clung to deeply in his loneliness and then reinforced by Lucretia. He was willing to let it go for Gin. Children, however, were another story. Deciding to focus on one issue at a time for now, he ignored her comment. He didn’t quite know what to say anyway. Yes, she married a muggle, and look where they ended up? Yes, definitely not the right thing to say right now.

As Gin walked towards the entrance, Darren followed her hurriedly, worried she was about to leave. But instead, she withdrew her wand from her bag. He viewed it hesitantly, but she pointed it down towards her clothes instead and tore part of her leggings. She was on a clothes ripping spree today. His eyes followed her wand as she traced out more scars, and he took a few quick, inadvertent few steps towards her as her wand briefly emitted sparks. He looked back into her eyes and noticed the tears, causing him to take another step before stopping again. Two more strides would allow him to hold her in his arms again and comfort her, but he knew he couldn’t do that yet. “I know…” he said wearily. She had phrased her question well. For there was no question that he loved her – he had loved her and had never stopped loving her since he had been a boy. But accepting her, accepting a life with her, was a different story. A while ago, it had been momentary. He had not fully accepted it yet. “But it’s not because of those,” he gestured towards the scars. “Or because of your blood…” He stopped, eyes narrowing as she chastised him for ‘assuming’ she wanted children.

“Oh, come off it,” Darren scowled. “We both know you’ve mentioned that before… Multiple times.” Darren sighed and closed his eyes. Her first response was typical Ginevra, it was typical of both of them to be stubborn and difficult simply for the sake of it. But what she said afterwards confused him. It was a difficult discussion, but Darren had long held that kids should be a discussion right at the start of serious relationships. And extremely so in this case.

He opened his eyes to look at her expression again, he still couldn’t work out her responses. “Do you know something I don’t or what?” he asked, his voice filled with both hope and apprehension. “I did look into a cure for lycanthropy, for a long time,” he said slowly. “Not only did I not find one, I also didn’t… Well, I’m not certain that your kind can… have children.” Well, he hadn’t come across any examples of males having children, but he assumed that they potentially at least could. Females on the other hand… “I mean, even if its possible for a male werewolf, some people think that they’ll pass on the gene,” Darren continued, resisting looking away from her. If this was all new information for Gin, he didn’t want to see the look of pain and hurt on her face. But if she knew about all this, and had a solution, he had to know. “But… I mean, I don’t really know how it would even work with you like, during the full moon…” He trailed off, his anger and bitterness rising at their situation. Fate was cruel to have him choose between his two most dearest desires – to have children and continue his family name, and to be with Ginevra.
 

Ginevra knew the instant that Darren had connected her underlying message. She had anticipated revulsion in his response but the disdain in his voice had her physically recoil slightly. Rubbing her fingertips along the side of her temple, she breathed out through clenched teeth. “Yes, he was a muggle.” She blinked back frustrated tears. Ginevra was not generally a crier. If tears did show, it often would be out of pure anger.

The process of trying to accept what had led her to seek releasing the tie on her virginity had been one thing, what that had meant to her initially and why she had waited was similar, but separate. Although she did not regret the choice she had made, standing in front of Darren now, it was difficult to find words to answer a how, or why, that stemmed from a place of logic. Her tone was dry as she spoke, “The how is fairly simple. He was around, he was good looking and he had interest in me. As for why? Because I was sick of waiting for you to decide that I was good enough. Beyond that, why not? I have needs and he satisfied them more than satisfactorily. His lack of magical ability did not impede his ability to fuck.” Ginevra looked directly back at Darren as she finished her sentence; a challenge.

Anger allowed her to detach away from the deeper emotions regarding the situation and she happily leaned into the avalanche she was becoming.

"And if you don’t remember, I embrace my muggle heritage. It is a part of who I am. My father's blood will always flows through my veins, and I won't reject it just because it doesn't fit into your narrow worldview” she hissed out the last few words, noting that she had always been aware that he was prejudice, that things likely would be much more complex if her family had still been alive today. With the intensity that Darren held onto his blood purity, Ginevra had held out a strand of hope that he would understand why this was an important consideration towards who she was.

Ginevra was only vaguely aware of Darren having followed her upon moving towards the door. A decent man would have recognized and acknowledged accidentally tossing someone onto their arse out of anger, but Ginevra rolled her eyes as she remembered Darren had never been the stereotypically “decent” person and lowered her initial expectation. If the situation had been different, she may have smirked at his hesitation to her holding a hand in her hand. For the briefest of moments, Ginevra had thought that Darren had been about to hold her, to comfort her. Her body craved the touch, screamed at the desire to be held in a tight embrace. When it didn’t come, her mouth pressed into a thin line. Her fingers continued to absently stroke the scar on her thigh, staring over Darren’s shoulder.

She had loved Darren for a majority of the time she had been alive. There were few moments that she could truly consider that did not involve having wondered where he could fit in, how she could make his life easier. In no realm had she ever actually made his life easier- Ginevra tested Darren unyieldingly, but the thought had remained because until this moment, she had never had to question if love was enough. Darren had never reciprocated feelings aloud for her and therefore all considerations could stay bright and idealistic in her head. Was he capable of providing her the support she would occasionally need? Would he run if life got difficult?

The smallest of smirks turned at the corner of her lips as he caught her snarky response for what it was. She allowed him to continue speaking, comprehension dawning over her expression as she soaked in his words. Would she be able to carry a child? Truthfully, Ginevra had always focused her research in regards to creature injuries on the healing aspect, not the reproductive. Whether this was due to what typically came through her ward or out of avoidance, she was not sure. “Logistically, I am certain I have the ability to get pregnant.” She was not able to look Darren in the eye as she continued. “Whether I would be able to.. maintain a pregnancy, even with wolfsbane on board, is another question.” It was a question she was not sure she would, or could, ever test. Ginevra felt her heart break as she registered his information. Her chest felt as if someone had clawed it open with her bare hands. Leaning against a nearby wall, she placed her elbows on her knees and stared towards the ground. “To be a mother, I would likely have to adopt.” Her voice croaked at this, watching one of her dreams fade.

She met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and determination. "But one thing is clear, Darren. I won't sacrifice who I am for anyone. I don't have the ability to let go of that.. part of me. Not even for the person I once loved more than anything. If you can't accept that, then maybe it's time we both move on." She didn't know what the future held for them, if there could be a future with what this revelation brought, but she knew that she deserved to be with someone who would love and accept her for all that she was, without conditions. It was a test of a differing sort, stemming from a place of vulnerability instead of the usual pure stubbornness.

If she had been completely honest, she would have expressed feeling her self-worth being leeched out of her skin, having tied her ability to bare children as an important aspect of who she was, who she wanted to be. It was moments like now that had her in need of unwavering support, a partner who could look passed their own pride. And if that person couldn't be Darren, then she would have to find the strength to let him go. At this moment, she was not sure what the word strength was. For someone who had always relied on the ability to be resilient, a hole she was not sure could be repaired was raw and exposed.

Darren’s eyes narrowed and hands curled into fists as Ginevra discussed the muggle man she had been with. He had no doubt she was trying to get a rise out of him. Knowing that didn’t prevent her words from being effective. He knew he had only himself to blame. But then again, had there ever been a good time? While the Dark Lord had been alive, being with Ginevra had been out the question. Even after he had finally gone, Darren’s own safety had not been secure enough for him to be comfortable to be with Gin. And by the time he was more secure, she had suffered her werewolf attack.

None of this was likely to convince Gin of anything. That only increased Darren’s frustration. He wondered what Gin thought of him. Had she cursed him, hated him, after their last meeting three years ago? No doubt it had an effect on her, for that seemed to have been what finally pushed her away from him and into the arms of another man. And not just that, but a muggle. Darren was repulsed by the idea, although if he was honest with himself, he would admit he would probably feel like this towards any man she had been with. Her being with a half blood or a muggle-born would have been nearly as bad. And a pureblood might have raised even greater feelings of jealousy and of being replaced.

“So I should accept all that?” Darren asked through gritted teeth. “You fraternizing with muggles who aren’t worth a fraction of you. Embracing your ‘muggle heritage.’ Apparently its only my heritage that’s a problem. I’m the one who needs to change my ‘narrow worldview?” Darren knew his words were unlikely to cool down the tension between them right now, but he also thought it was worth speaking his mind. What she thought were prejudices and narrow minded world views were quite literally the heritage, the culture, the traditions he had grown up with. Darren recognized that there were faults in these things, but surely Ginevra could do a better job of at least respecting it? Instead, she had always embraced that side. At times when that culture bleeded through in her actions and her dress, the unfamiliar nature of it could make her even more attractive to him. But only to an extent, and when she passed that it made the prejudices rooted inside him harder to suppress and ignore.

As slid to the ground, Darren realised what he had feared was true. And worse, it had not even occurred to Ginevra until this moment. His amazement at that was drowned out by the sudden depression he felt at her words. Unlike her, he had thought about this deeply, and he always had doubts that a werewolf could carry for the full term. But Darren had kept some degree of hope that Gin may have had a solution to that. As he watched that fade away he looked away from her, not realizing she had also averted her gaze. He closed his eyes, thinking and cursing whatever God was watching for the cruel fate he had subjected them both to.

Her words seem to come to him from far away, as she talked about possibly moving on if he couldn’t accept her. His depression was suddenly replaced by anger again. The audacity for her to say something like that right now? Was it not enough that he could, and would, put aside his traditions, his family, his community, his pure bloodline, for her? She now also expected him to just accept the idea that he would accept giving his house, his legacy, to the child of a stranger?

Darren opened his eyes to glare at her again, but immediately softened as he looked at her state. She was glaring back with her characteristic determination and boldness, but beneath that there was clear vulnerability. It suddenly hit him just how much the sudden realization had affected her. Darren found himself momentarily still as he battled two opposing feelings - his instinctive protective nature towards Gin urging him to go to her and comfort her, and his anger towards her and everything else compelling him to speak his mind. Eventually, the former won out, and Darren took a few strides towards her and sat next to her.

In the back of his mind Darren was still aware of his desire for her. It wasn’t quite possible to suspend that even now, sitting next to the girl he loved, now with his robes off and her leggings half torn up. He wanted to kiss her, to tell her it was all going to be okay, that he would be happy to be with her regardless of the possibility of children. But that simply wouldn’t be true, and he had made enough mistakes today. He reached out his arm and wrapped it around her shoulders, pulling her slightly towards him. “You shouldn’t sacrifice who you are,” Darren said slowly, weighing his words. It felt hard to be angry with her when he held her in his arms. At the moment even his prior anger towards fraternizing with muggles was fading away, and even replaced with admiration towards her idealism. “There’s nothing wrong with you Gin. To me, you’re… the most perfect person I’ve ever known. And I don’t want you to change, not even for me.” Darren was aware of the contradictions in such a statement, or perhaps it was finally a realization that was dawning on him. Would he truly love her more without her flaws? If she had the blood and was raised in the way Lucretia had been?

He wasn’t sure, and yet, Darren knew that either he had to change, or she had to. There were simply too many obstacles between them to close the distance in any other way. “But.. I don’t know what else to say,” he said quietly.

Ginevra felt a rush as she took in Darren’s fists curling at his sides, aware that she had landed her words where they had intended to hit. She felt the rush of adrenaline that had always spiked when he had displayed an inclination towards protectiveness, albeit at times possessive. She had been aware of this pattern from their teenage years, often leading towards confusion, ignoring the underlying signs until cueing a repetitive cycle of ignorance. It surely said something about her character, soaking in the response and craving the thrill it brought. Did he have a sick need to give her love and proceed to take it away? Did she know what healthy love looked like? Beyond that, did she actually desire healthy love? Ginevra had asked herself these questions over the last three years and she still was unsure of the answer.

She understood the cultural implications that had shaped his worldview, but his perspective would not be easier to absorb due to this; it never had been. “It was one muggle” she replied, gritting her teeth in response, her words coming out in a frustrated grumble. “Your heritage is rooted in self-righteous asshat-ery. You just don’t seem to care to rise above and be any better than that. For goodness sake, you were living with someone who embodied looking down on anyone and everything outside of herself, but me sleeping with a muggle seems to be what is problematic.” She was losing the ability for more words, creating new ones in place of what would have been proper vocabulary. Did he really see no problem in placing pride above all else? Had he not been able to recognize where hate and close-minded beliefs had led him, led their friendship? All she had seen was limitations. She had always believed he was capable of more, capable to truly love if he placed aside his upbringing. Easier said than done, in reality.

Ginevra had been debating whether she had anymore fight in her, whether standing her ground was even worth it anymore, when Darren sat down next to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Allowing her body to be nudged closer to him, she could feel some of the tension roll off the areas that had unintentionally tensed. It was difficult to remain angry when he held her, as he gave her exactly what she had craved since her teenage years. Leaning her head against his shoulder, she allowed herself to pause and soak in the smell of him. He had always been a source of comfort for her. She really wanted to keep on this course of action, him holding her instead of grasping at any aspect of his pride that kept placing them further at odds with each other.

Biting down on her bottom lip, she rose to a knee and pivoted. Gently spacing his knees apart with her hand, she sat her butt in between them, moving her legs on either side of his hips, her knees bent with the wall in the way behind them. Leaning forward, she placed a kiss on his bare shoulder. “I really didn’t anticipate you actually talking with me. I’ll be honest in the part of me that was hoping you’d be an arse and carry my stubborn ass to your bedroom anyways.” She looked towards his face at her words, her awareness that she likely would not be able to give into her urges in a bed that she would associate with Lucretia still in the back of her mind. She appreciated that he had registered the resolution in her voice, the need to talk, and acknowledge internally that this was not easy for either of them. “It seems like you have thought about children.” She paused, her hand landing on his knee, drawing idle circles on his thigh as she took in a breath. “Our children.” She added, the ladder coming out as a half-question.

Ginevra was unsure of what more she wanted to escape his lips. “But I guess it is good we didn’t end up sleeping together, considering the whole baby thing.” Letting out a pained laugh, she glanced over his shoulder, the blank stare returning to her face. What version of him was she going to get? What version of herself would walk away from this manor, realizing that she had large pieces of her that would not fit into a puzzle she had always placed together in her mind.

Darren ruminated on Gin’s words as he sat there with her head on his shoulder. With his arm around her, he could feel her tension and anger subside considerably. In this regard, at least, Darren had certainly grown more mature. His teenage self would have probably ignored her entirely, perhaps paying attention only to provide some sarcastic remark. That had never detracted Gin then, probably quite the opposite. But they had both grown up and Darren had a feeling that he not done what he had in this moment she may have walked out of his life forever.

His belief in blood purity had been harder to grow out of. If anything, Darren had embraced it more fully as the other parts of his life fell apart. He had, earlier in Diagon Alley, decided to reject all that for Gin. People didn’t change overnight though, and for Darren his pride and ego were far too dominant, and the ideas too deeply ingrained, for change to not be an extreme struggleIn their bubble, the purebloods had established a hierarchy of status and importance and placed themselves (Darren’s family included), at the top of it. If he married Gin, and had children with her, he’d place himself right to the bottom of that hierarchy. Her proudly displaying just how in touch she was with her muggle side every 15 minutes wasn’t making things any easier. But that alone was not enough to deter Darren, but to sacrifice children altogether was perhaps a bridge too far.


Darren was still caught up in his thoughts when Ginevra suddenly pivoted and placed herself right between her knees. The rational side of his brain told him this wasn’t a great idea. He needed to think, and if he arrived at the conclusion that they both needed to move on, further physical intimacy (that might, at this point, result in him carrying her upstairs) was not a great idea. His body and emotional side however, ignored all that and was greatly pleased as he felt her bare skin on his again. “I haven’t ruled it out,” Darren murmured, as she planted a kiss on his shoulder.  In reality, even though his body might be suggesting otherwise, Darren possessed enough self-control still to not do anything, yet. “Though, if you want me to think clearly about this, can’t say you’re helping much right now,” he added, although his other hand, placed on her hip, kept her pulled against him as he said so.

With her smell and her touch engulfing his senses, it was hard to return to the train of thought that he had been on. Luckily, her question reminded him of it again. That was always going to be the biggest hurdle. Perhaps that’s why he had somehow suspended it from his mind earlier today. “Our children,” Darren repeated, wistfully. “Of course I’ve thought of it.” Obsessed as he had always been with his family name and blood, children had always been on the back of his mind for a few years now, especially when it concerned Ginevra – even before she had become a werewolf it had been a factor. Frankly, desire for pureblood children (preferably without lycanthropy) had been the one of the main reasons for him being with Lucretia. Darren had thought his desire for a pureblood family would trump everything else in his life, but his love for Gin ended up mattering more to him than that. But whatever he envisioned his future to look like, children were always a part of it. Darren would not have it any other way.

“Gin, look, you can feel jealous and doubt me as much as you want, but I know that there is no conceivable way that I will to the end of my days find anyone I love as much as you,” he said, his tone resolute but his gaze directed away from her. “But I also will not let me family name die out. And…” He paused, wondering how to continue without hurting her. Darren was never much for tact, but he had grown mature enough to know when something he said could be hurtful. That had largely resulted in him keeping too much to himself though, and there was no way around this. “I’m not handing my home and my family name to a stranger either.” His resolute rejection of adoption should not be surprising to Ginevra. Darren would rather his children were werewolves than adopt. "I don't know if there's any other solution."

It was really something, the way her body released pent up emotion when he held her close. There was natural trust that exuded from her pores, something she had accepted without question since their teenage years. There were only a few rare occurrences that he had used physical contact to soothe her, creating extra meaning in the moment he prioritized her need for him over his anger and pride. She could feel a physical weight in her chest with the complexity of the situation in front of them. Although she did not want to acknowledge it, she was aware that he was having an internal battle between caring for her and the need to preserve his pureblood heritage. His eyes had always told her more than he verbally would.

From the outside, there were people who would not understand how they could have started the morning without having interacted in several years to now, sitting on the floor in Darren’s manor, discussing children. Ginevra personally felt the moment was surreal, too good to be true, but she also had to embrace that Darren was allowing himself to be vulnerable instead of keeping his emotions in line with the indifference he so often defaulted too. Sitting, or rather straddling, Darren’s lap felt very natural. She felt a tightening in her stomach, her nipples hardening as he placed a kiss on her shoulder. There was a heightened awareness in her body as his hand held her against him, the pressure gentle. She could feel the need for him fighting her mind trying to steady the rawness behind her desire. Cupping his cheek, she stroked her thumb against the sharp line of his jaw, watching her movements as she reached his lips. The smirk at his reply was written across her face, completely unphased in that moment regarding his wavering control.

A piece of the struggle stemmed from this connection they maintained. If this interaction ended in them parting, how was she ever supposed to find anything that could flourish the same? Ginevra and Darren had years of history and their relationship was complex, but had been fed through the decades of provided in adventure, learning and testing the others’ limits; they had quite literally grown together. She had tried, and failed, to separate from the desire he held over her, and that was before he had reciprocated any of it so openly. A lump rose in her throat as he repeated the phrase she had hold such a grasp on her heart. Their children. Two words that had her legs tighten against where they were planted around him, every bone in her body yelling at her to throw caution to the wind and take him right on the floor.

She scoffed lightly as he mentioned jealousy, softening slightly as he confessed loving her as much as he had been previously stating. There was consistency in his words, which helped her lean towards accepting what he was trying to convince her of. “I don’t want you to give up who you are, but there has to be some sort of middle ground. I can’t give you a child that can continue a pureblood line. But merlin if any other child can be created out of pure, unyielding love. I have nothing less than that for you.” Her eyes swam with need, with confusion, and yet there was a certainty in her words that there could be nothing laced with less truth. She rested her forehead against his, her breath shallow. “If I can’t carry a child to term, there are other ways apart from adoption.” She wasn’t stupid, she knew he had been insinuating that adopting would be a strangers child.

Ginevra was unsure of how much to test Darren. She was aware that there were options for surrogacy in the muggle realm, something that she had never had a need to see if the Wizarding realm offered. Would he throw her off of him in a rage if she brought up the possibility? Would her eggs in someone else fall into the same category? Was there even a chance that she could risk a pregnancy, knowing that she could loose the fetus? What if she were to get pregnant and lose the child, would he leave her? The questions swirled around her head like a tornado, threatening to make her dizzy. If she had not been leaning her head against his forehead, there was a chance that she may have given into the swaying her mental state felt like doing. “Darren, I love you. I always have and I always will. But would you stay if I could not give you a child?” Ginevra could have sworn that the question dropped the temperature in the room a few degrees.

As the weight on her shoulders felt heavier and heavier with the questions, some impulse in her decided that it was too much, too overwhelming. Leaning forward, she touched Darren’s lips to hers and decided that this was a much better way to spend her time. Moving her hips closer to him, she wanted nothing more than to give into temptation and screw the rest of the questions. She wanted to have him, all of him, and the questions that were surfacing had her scared that it would never happen. He didn’t know if there was any other solution and her solution, in this moment, was to stop thinking and simply act. Wrapping her hand around the back of his neck, she deepened the kiss and pulled his body as physically close to hers as possible.