"Being here without you is like I'm waking up to only half a blue sky, kinda there but not quite."

Mairen had tried to be patient, alright? She really had. But it wasn't her fault when she gave him the time to explain and make it okay, but all that ended up happening was another fight. Day after day, another argument about how he shouldn't have left her on her own - she didn't do well on her own anymore, she reminded him that afternoon. And every afternoon, he would insinuate that he left for her own good, and that she should be grateful for it. Hah. Not bloody likely, she had laughed to herself again. His leaving had hurt, and it was going to take more than that for her to forgive him properly. There were a million times he could have written, could have explained. He could have given her the heads-up before he left, so it wouldn't be like she had scared him off. So people wouldn't wonder what she had done to make him disappear. It was a wonder that she had been allowed to keep her job at all. She had waited around like Shostakovich, expecting that someone would come and take on the assumption that she had done something threatening to him. Waiting for someone to blame her - or worse, question her. Not that she would have been too much help, considering she would have been required to write the lot of it down.

But that hadn't happened, and instead she had been taken in. The thought still surprised her, honestly, so when she returned home from work that evening, Mairen had immediately taken to the two people she found within the home. Although she wasn't a brilliant cook, she did try to help, and in the end, things turned out rather well. So after seeing Esme off to bed as she had for a few weeks now, she picked up her latest files and retreated downstairs to look it over. The case wasn't as interesting some of her others, but she definitely wasn't going to allow herself to ask Scorpius for help. The anger she felt towards him was still there, though she had sent it into hiding during her time with Theodore and his daughter. They didn't need to see that.

She passed by his study, her gaze catching on the spot on the wall where she had left his thank-you/Christmas gift. For, really, it was both. Some of it felt very much like a first Christmas gift for a friend and his daughter, but the rest was too much, and she knew it. During their visit to Keiran's, she had asked Bridget if there were any texts about Theodore's family. Thinking back on it, she wasn't sure if he would actually appreciate it or want to read about them, given the strange family interactions and tension she had felt. But in the moment it had seemed like a good idea. That, along with a mug Esme had painted for him, had been placed underneath the actual "too much" part, as she called it. The painting was not one of the more 'impressive' ones that her father had available, thanks to his collection. But it was one she appreciated. If Theo hated it, she supposed it could just go in her room instead. But a part of her thought he might actually like it a little. Enough to keep it, even if only until she owned up to the fact that she needed to get her own place and get out of his (their) hair.

Mairen drew in a breath, shaking her head, then continued down and into the kitchen. She went to pour herself a glass of water, but hesitated. Theo probably wouldn't mind if she drank after Esme was off to bed. She didn't want to be a bad example, obviously. But she hoped he wouldn't be upset with her drinking his wine. She could always replace it if it really bothered him, she mused. The redhead drew out a glass, wondering if the back of her mind if she would actually make it through the whole bottle. Normally she wouldn't, but the past week had been draining. So the potential was there, and somehow, it didn't even make her pause.

The first glass was gone before Mairen could even realize she had managed it. The anger and hurt she felt had yet to dissipate, though, so she poured herself another, pretending that the words on the page weren't getting a bit harder to read. Normally, she wouldn't have considered consuming so much, and it was probably safe to say that she was something of a lightweight, but she just did not care. If all else failed, she could sleep in the little basement living room area, and if Esme came in, she could claim she fell asleep doing work and had a headache from... well, staying up till late.

Still, the alcohol flowed, and soon the bottle had not but perhaps a quarter left within. Her quill fell, her palms turning up so she could drop her forehead onto the platform they made, and she just sat, wondering to herself if she should have just gone to Azkaban instead of accepting Scorpius's proposal, because that probably wouldn't have lasted as long as the hellish mess she had found herself in.

Lateness: Theodore had always hated it. Yet, he found himself letting himself into his home having missed bath and bedtime. There was a churning feeling in his gut that was bubbling up regret into his throat and before he could even properly get off his coat he abandoned his things and ascended the stairs in search of his child. He loved his job. He adored the maddening bureaucracy of being the Headmaster and he supposed it was part of the reason why he had loved being on the Wizengamot, too, before life got in the way. Yet, what was really beginning to grate on him was that he was missing time with his daughter and he was coveting those hours he got to have with her. He lived for weekends, when the students didn’t need him or the staff didn’t need guidance and he could leave it to Keiran to deal with any of the terrible tragedies of broken nails and no-more-boyfriends that plagued his students. Without Hogwarts, he could play all morning with his daughter, watch movies in the afternoon and once she’d been bathed and put to bed he could annoy Mairen all evening.

Slowing as he reached her room, Theodore extended a hand and pressed open the door with the tips of his fingers. He loosed his tie, pulling it down across his front, and he stepped inside to get a better look, finding his baby tucked up in bed, cuddling her stuffed rabbit to her chest. He felt his heart constrict a little and he stepped inside, drawing closer before sinking down onto his knees to press his lips into her hair, to tuck the bedclothes further around her and just to listen for a few moments to the rise and fall of her breath. He wished he’d seen her that evening, been able to hold her and play and read to her until she fell asleep. He pressed his forehead woefully against hers, wishing that he could quit at a moment’s notice, give it all over to his cousin and just leave to have his family. She was all he had, she was all he’d ever wanted, and he was missing it.

“I’m sorry, baby girl,” he whispered, curling a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry.”

She didn’t stir and a part of Theodore was glad for it. He sighed and rose slowly to his feet, drawing his fingers through his hair. He turned, exiting slowly from her room, pulling the door closed with a soft click behind him as he departed. Theodore slowly picked his way downstairs, abandoning his shoes and blazer and tie along the way. He finally reached the kitchen and when he did he stopped, momentarily stunned by the sight of his roommate sat with her head in her hands, his wine nearly all gone, with misery hanging about her unrepentantly. Theodore stepped further inside and went to the wine rack, retrieving another bottle and a glass for himself.

Coming to her side, Theodore sat down and put the effects he’d gathered on the table. He poured from the open bottle first, topping up her glass before putting the dibble into his own. Then he opened the new one, pouring a generous amount of the scarlet liquid into his glass. He was grateful for its sharpness and the thick body of it that slid down his throat and warmed his chest. It made him feel a little bit more real, somehow. Drawing his arm across her back, Theodore curled his hand around her shoulders and tugged at her, urging her to turn into him for solace or, at the very least, a better angle to slap him away from.

“You look about as miserable as I feel,” he muttered, his lips brushing against her hairline. “I know you’re not alright, Mai, but d’you want to talk about it?” He asked, rubbing his hand along her upper arm.

Mairen probably would have jumped, if she wasn't feeling so lethargic and frankly downtrodden. She wasn't used to being a sad drunk, but that was mostly because she wasn't quite used to being drunk at all. Sure, a drink or two here or there was due to be had. But this? She had taken it too far, and she had a feeling it was obvious. So when he topped off her glass, she nearly pouted at him. He was just tempting her. But Mairen supposed it was her own fault for having started it, so she wasn't really qualified.

She couldn't resist settling her cheek onto Theodore's shoulder when he sat beside her, her hair flopping in front of her face. "How come you're sad?" she asked first, trying to buy herself some time to figure out exactly what she was feeling. Part of her was angry, but mostly she was disappointed, and it felt strange to think that she wanted to tell Theo as much.

Sighing, she huffed a breath out to try and fluff the hair out of her face. It just fell right back, though, so she left it. "It's been a long week, Theo. And... he's back," she whispered, her brow furrowing as she continued to try and process it. "But he's mad at me. He abandoned me and now he's mad, because I didn't... wait. Or stay at his by myself. I don't know. But I only just recently decided it wasn't my fault, and now he's saying it is again. Because he claims to have gone away for me."

Mairen reached for her glass, somehow desperate to feel the warmth flood through her again. "He should have explained," she muttered, a pout tugging her lips downward. "It's not fair to expect me to rush back, is it?" she turned to look at him properly, her gaze imploring him to tell her how she ought to react.

Theodore smiled a bit, reaching up to comb the flailing hair out of Mairen’s eyes. He returned his hand to her arm after doing so, letting his fingers trail across her skin absent-mindedly, drawing in circles and idle patterns that he could recall his mother doing to him as a child. When he’d been happy and she distracted it had tickled and sent him into peals of giggles that took her mind off of her work and rendered her attention completely his. When miserable, having been too long in the company of his father, it was the most reassuring thing in the world for him. For Esme, too, it was much of the same. He squeezed her to him, turning to touch another kiss to her forehead, letting her know that he was there – moreover, he was there for her.

“I missed bedtime again,” he sighed, resting his head against Mai’s. “I’m never going to make father of the year if I’m Headmaster of Hogwarts, am I?” He reached over and picked up his wine glass, thoroughly content with assuaging his guilt with that. He took a long gulp and set the glass back down, a little bit closer this time, though. “I miss her. It’s like we’re two ships passing in the night, never quite meeting. That’s not the way you bring up your child, is it?”

Theodore looked down as the hair flew up and his lips came together in a bit of a pout – though he’d deny that he ever pouted. He reached for her hair again, taking a moment to push it out of the way and lingering, pressing the ends to her head before pulling his hand away. The hair fell again and Theodore sighed with half testy amusement, shaking his head as he extended his hand back for his glass of wine. He felt his stomach churn and irritation flare within him at the implicit mention of Scorpius. The wine came sourly across his tongue as the context began to revolve around Mai’s words and Theodore set down the glass a little too heavily, the glass complaining at him for it.

“He has no right,” Theodore swore, his grip unintentionally tightening around Mai. “He left – what on earth has that got to do with you? You didn’t make him go.” Theodore’s jaw clenched and he sorely hoped that she’d told Scorpius to shove his wand up his arse and be done with him altogether. “He doesn’t own you, Mai. You are not meant to be shut up somewhere and kept to be admired but never allowed to live. You cannot have been reasonably expected to stay there, without a friend, pining after him. What planet does he live on?” That was conservative even for Rookwood standards, really.

Swallowing, Theodore tried to temper his anger a little bit. He brought his hand up again and tried to take back her hair, frowning at it as it continued to flop. “That’s very irritating,” he conceded. “Pretty,” he added, “but very frustrating.” He thought he’d gotten it then because for a second the hair stayed but then it flopped down again, spiting him. Chuckling, Theodore leaned over and kissed her forehead again, seemingly unable to help himself. He was drawing a little bit of solace from doing so, really. He liked having her close to him. He felt as though somehow he could do better at stealing away the bad, rotten feelings. He didn’t know how much good he was doing, mind you, but he felt as though he was doing something.

“I know you love him, Mai, but he’s an arse,” Theo muttered. “If he can leave you in the first place he’s mental but if he has the gall to then blame you… he’s not worth your time, love.”

"But," she began, pausing to take in his face as his lips turned downward in a sort of mirror of her own, "don't you think she's proud of you for being Headmaster? Maybe you should just make some sort of deal with someone. Who says you have to be there so much? It isn't like you're teaching, eh?"

Mairen sighed as his arm tightened around her, and a strange wave of comfort cascaded over her. It wasn't that she was surprised about Theo's ability to calm her. After all, her defenses were always down around him, and she had been living there for too long to still be unsure about him. More than that, even, she cared about him and about Esme, and she didn't want to disappoint him. So it felt good to know that he agreed with her. The only concerning part was that Theodore seemed truly enraged by her frustrations.

"I wouldn't have been upset if he had told me," she mumbled, her eyes following his hand as he reached up to move her hair again. "I could have helped," Mairen added at a whisper, her cheeks heating as the front section of her hair evaded Theodore once more. She lifted her own hand, holding the strands against her head, her eyes falling shut at his gesture. They didn't open until he spoke again, and her expression was one of shock.

"I mean," she fumbled, blinking rapidly. "Umm, Theo..." she faltered, lifting her glass so she could swallow back more than she really should have. "I... See, I do care for him. But I was starting to move on, and now he's back, and it just... sucks. I was going to be okay. I'm supposed to be okay."

Mairen shook her head, frowning down at her glass. After a moment of hesitation, she lifted it once more and proceeded to take in the majority of what was left. A heavy sigh escaped before she spoke his name again, drawing the word out as the warmth of the alcohol made her all the more relaxed. "Theoooo, I don't geddit. How come nobody wants to keep me? I don't wanna hurt anymore," she admitted, hardly concerned that she was giving away more information than she perhaps should have, or wanted to normally.

She took pride in her Gryffindor sorting, after all, and didn't like to admit that she needed people. Yet here she was, allowing him to see exactly what her weakness was: the fact that she did, in fact, need someone to want her, to need her. All she could do after that utterance? Well, drink what was left in her glass. What else?

"Every child," Mairen replied gently, "thinks their daddy is important. Especially little girls. But it's even more special to have other people think your daddy is important," she mused aloud, tilting her head against his. "I mean, my father... was famous for something so simple. Or it seemed simple to me. I never could play any instruments, though, so that wasn't fair, I guess. But I just kind of knew that... well, even if he wasn't around, he had to be pretty important to be liked by so many people. You don't think Esme knows you're important?"

Setting down her glass, Mairen decided it was probably best to leave it empty - at least for now. She was already sounding like a fool, besides. Whether Theodore knew it or not, she could feel herself acting ridiculous, and she tried to stop herself, but the worry was there even if she couldn't express it. When he took her face in his hands, her cheeks felt warmer than they probably were already, just from the alcohol itself.

Her eyes fell shut, and Mairen let herself lean her forehead against his in return, trying to put the words he spoke into a sentence that made sense in her mind. They were jumbled somewhat, but she thought that she understood them well enough. "Oh, Theo..." she breathed, her hands finding his forearms so she could pass her thumb across the back of his right hand.

Turning into that palm, Mairen pressed a kiss to the pad beneath his thumb, letting her lips linger there against his skin. "I don't know what I would've done without you," she added, her eyes opening as she leaned back just far enough to look at him properly. "Lived in my office, probably," she joked, the words forced out with some effort. "If one of us needs the other, it's clearly me needing you and that wonnnderful little girl of yours."

Her warm gaze took in the lines of his face and Mai tilted her head to the side as she gazed at him. "You're... the best, Theo."

 
 
 
 

(ooc: I'm genuinely sorry for this post. Rather rotten.)

A slight frown pulled at her lips and she couldn't quite help the reply that left her lips. "I'm sorry... I shouldn't have argued it. Not my place," she added firmly, hoping to squash the topic as best as she could now that she had made a mess of it. It wasn't worth upsetting him further.

There was that word again. Mairen wasn't confident that she deserved the endearment from him. But before she could process it fully, he had said it again, except with a more concrete meaning implied, and she found herself blinking at him in surprise. He was right, though, to remind her that it had been intended as a temporary situation. For her credit, Mai had considered looking for places. But that was about as far as she had gotten.

She was so distracted by the worry of if she would be expected to leave someday that she nearly missed the look he gave her. When Theodore spoke again, though, she wasn't at all sure how to react. Her cheeks flamed, and she had to break eye contact just to feel less embarrassed. To be fair, it wasn't the first time she had heard that by any means. But this was Theo saying it, and somehow it made her insides feel all topsy. Mai gasped at his question, her gaze jumping back to his.

She didn't have a problem with that at all, she realized. So she just nodded, her eyes wide and expression oddly hopeful. It wasn't until his lips met her skin that Mai let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. In fact, she hadn't really moved at all since his hand had found its way to her side. But her head tilted back to allow him better access. His words ushered forth a shy smile that was actually rather rare, considering the redhead's typically outgoing nature.

So when he kissed her, all Mai could think about was how different it felt. It was surprisingly comfortable, and just remarkably easy. Her free hand settled at the junction where his neck met his shoulder, her thumb brushing back and forth over the column of his neck. She suddenly wished that they weren't each in their own chairs, because after she got used to the initial shock of his skin gliding over hers, Mairen couldn't help it. Her fingers reached up and into his hair, and she made a sort of crazy, unexpected (even in her own mind) decision to push off of her chair and move to stand between his legs.

This, she mused immediately, was a brilliant idea. Her free arm curled around Theodore's neck, and the only issue she had with the whole thing was that she was incredibly drunk. Why couldn't it have happened when she was properly aware, and not so downright pathetic? He had called his home her home, though, and she wouldn't be forgetting that any time soon. And this? There wasn't a chance in hell of her forgetting this had happened. Not when all she wanted was for the kiss to last. Or, at the very least, to be something that happened again. She could definitely get used to this.

Once the initial anxiety of whether or not the kiss was right at all had elapsed, nature took its course. Strong hands took on a tenderness that came from understanding a little something about how to properly love a woman. That said, those hands were not sure if this kiss was going to lead quite to that but the man was falling very rapidly into the thrumming energy of it, the thoroughness of their kiss and the sheer, wondrous feeling of his body waking up again and heating up with desire. He found himself letting any lingering anxiety disappear and he drifted into the kiss and drew her closer to him, his hands falling to slide across her back, tempting their touch across the swell of her bum.

Theo broke the kiss and tumbled his mouth across her jaw, letting his lips fall upon the soft skin of her neck and pick a trail across it as far as he could go before her clothing began to obstruct him at her shoulders or at the barest hint of her chest. He pursed his lips together for a lingering moment against her peeking collarbone and sighed gently, inhaling the faint smell of her perfume. Then, leaving as kiss behind, he made his way back up to her mouth. His lips were greedy for hers, the reddening skin desperate for the feeling to return to him.
 
As their lips met again, Theodore let his hands slide down a little from her bum to the tops of her thighs. Then, in one fluid motion, Theodore lifted her up into his hands. Her dress rode up, leaving his palms to feel at the backs of her thighs. He swallowed and drew his hands towards her knees, guiding her legs around his middle. He then returned his hands to her back … well, one hand. The other remained on her leg, somehow fascinated with this reveal of skin that he’d never really seen before unless he happened to be accidentally on purpose looking over at her while she was bending over to pick something up or whatever she happened to be doing.
 
Then, Theodore began to guide them out of the basement living room and kitchen and up the stairs. He managed to steal after every bit of her that he could reach still even with the problems of manoeuvring and obstructive clothing. When she took off on her own, he hindered her, hankering after her mouth once more in a way that he felt sure would have earned him some sort of reproach usually – not that such an action would’ve been ‘usual.’ Soon enough, they made their way up the other set of stairs and then onto the landing and across it to Theodore’s room. The door was open. He only had to close it.

Moving to the bed, Theodore bent his knees and laid her down on the bed in a way that was almost reverent. He paused to smile at her, his hand finding her face again, and he reflected that it was magic or a miracle that they’d made it up there without falling in a heap and waking up Esme. That thought went right out of the window, though, because he threw up some silencing spells and then returned his lips to her skin where in that moment they belonged. His hands slipped across her calves and up the course of her creamy thighs to tease up the hem of the dress towards her hips. As his lips fell, they met with the wrinkling fabric and his smile returned in a cheekier fashion than before.

Theodore’s fingers slipped up and pulled at the top of the tights she’d worn underneath the dress to keep of the Ministry’s draughts and the winter weather. He followed the trail of the skin being revealed eagerly and once he reached the top of her underwear he ran his tongue along the line, drawing the tights down enough so that there was plenty of slack for him to, finally, with relish, tear them off. Two halves of the tights drifted to the floor and Theodore leaned into her thighs, peppering kisses across them as he looped his fingers around the waistband of her underwear. The material came away and he leaned in, tantalisingly close but then, with a daring smirk, pulled up and away, returning to her mouth, his hands lifting around her back in search of the zipper of her dress.
 

"Did I mention you're beautiful?"