"The Candor sings the praises of the truth, but they never tell you how much it costs."

Declan waited until she had finished speaking to look away, if only because he didn't want her to see his true reaction until she had managed to say everything she wanted to. Showing how annoyed or hurt or scared one was never helped in moments like these. But then he just nodded.

Oh, of course. Just because he had tried to explain what we felt didn't mean he had convinced her. It didn't mean he could get her to take a chance on him, or manage to change her minds about relationships. Was he surprised? No. But he had been pretty hopeful.

"I know," he conceded quietly. "I had a feeling. I just..." Declan hesitated, reaching up to rub at the back of his neck. He had nearly aimed for his hair, but the gesture felt too frustrated as opposed to uncomfortable, so he changed his mind at the last moment.

"Dom, I don't know if I'll be good at that. It's not that I don't want to try. But after everything, it's hard to move backwards or pretend I don't see you like that. I mean, I can... I can try and be quiet about it. But if you say we're just going to be friends, there won't be any of the other stuff. And I'm sure you know what I mean."

He frowned slightly, shaking his head as he leaned forward to pour himself a drink against his better judgment. But he needed it after he had made a statement like that.

"I can't cope with that," he added under his breath as he lifted the short but now-full glass to his lips.

Well... she felt just horrible.

If she could just... change who she was, she would do it. If she could make it so she wasn't so flighty and uncertain and self-motivated, she would do it all for Declan. But she knew she couldn't. She knew that, while she could be stubborn, she wasn't strong-willed enough to change all of the bad behaviors that had been imprinted on her from Roxi, from bad friends, from stupid choices, from past regrets. Dom had lived this easy life where never had to commit, never had to feel, never had to fight and now she was reaping the benefits.

It had all been for the sake of the party. And she didn't feel like partying now.

"Right," she said, nodding earnestly, wanting to find the words that would make this all better. "Of course. I know." Those weren't it. This was stalling, this wasn't helpful. She caught her wrist up and wrung out her hands a bit nervously, feeling dreadful. This was killing her.

"I..."

...take it all back.

"...should probably go."

She blinked. "Yeah. Sorry, for the drink. Um, I just... family is probably meeting up somewhere to celebrate. I should be there."

Dear reader: please note that Declan is not and has never been a drunk. This, of course, is something that Declan was sure Dom had figured out about him after a near-yearlong friendship (or whatever it was). But for once, he didn't bother wondering if he should or should not drink. Instead, she said she was leaving and he downed the rest of what probably would have made up several shots.

"That's fine," he shrugged unconvincingly. "I'll finish it."

He hadn't put himself out there in over a year. The difference between Dom and Danica was obvious, of course. Danica had been conniving and secretive and already committed to someone, where Dom was skeptical and refused to commit. Between the two of them, Dom was obviously the better choice. But it wasn't up to him. None of his relationships had ever been up to him, though he hadn't exactly had a great deal of them. When he learned the truth about Danica, he had vowed never to return to Dublin despite his Irish heritage and family members who lived there. He had bought the Leaky out of a weird need for control and a huge amount of self-deprecation. He wouldn't be too much in life, would he? Not if he was so oblivious and lacked talent in so many areas. Of course he would hold onto the one thing that made sense. The thing he was actually good at. But owning a pub wasn't exactly thrilling in the eyes of most.

To make matters worse, the world seemed determined to provide him with chances to grow more upset with himself via the women he chose to have in his life. What had he done to deserve this, honestly? Why was nothing he did or said going to be enough to get one of them to pick him over whatever their issues were? Declan would have never said anything to Danica if she had been wearing her wedding ring. He never would have gone out or gotten anywhere near proposing if he hadn't thought she had found something in him worth keeping and claiming as hers.

Similarly, he would have been more than willing to help Dom figure out whatever freaked her out about dating. He would have. The fact that he wanted to give her advice, not to mention wanting to date her, was already shocking. He never fit into the stereotype that Roxi had suggested. Not with women anyway. Men he didn't mind so much because he could give them a heads up. And frankly, Declan's morals were through the roof most days. He would never have suggested they do anything bad or improper. The only times morals didn't matter to him? When he wanted someone, and wanted her to do the same in return. Much good breaking the rules had done him.

Even before he looked at her glass, he had poured himself another.

"Leave if you want. Though I'm pretty sure you said earlier that you didn't want to go. Or maybe that was your cousin. I dunno," he shrugged again, this time reaching for the glass she has abandoned. "Just don't ask me to pretend it's gonna be all fine and good after this."

She wished she could have just left, but Declan said he was going to finish her Firewhiskey for her, which gave her pause. She was the one, between the two of them, that guzzled drink. Declan was modest when it came to any sort on consumption, and it wasn't like him to finish off a full drink of his own, and then hers to follow. The thought of him continuing to drink, alone, after she had just torn their whatever-ship asunder... that wasn't just a sad thought, but it was an unsettling one.

"Are you sure-"

He poured himself another glass, cutting off her question. He continued to speak and she felt her heart sink, just as it had in his office. She was the bad guy again. But she was a Weasley and she was a Gryffindor. If there was one feeling that a Gryffindor and a Weasley hated more than anything, it was being told they weren't the hero that they wanted to be.

But if he wanted a bad guy... Oh, he could get one.

"You want to invite Roxi over?" Dom asked, forcing a smile on as she stepped closer to him, snagging her drink out of his reach for herself, and to spite him, as immature as it might be. "Go ahead, Declan. You'll have a great night with her. You guys will get accidentally drunk and the next day, she'll swear it's sooo not like her. But every time you're with her, it'll happen. And then she'll up the ante. Sugar. Then weed. Maybe some spice. It'll all just be for a one time thing. Pills. Your days blur together. Roxi's pushing you towards strangers, telling them you're up for a party. And you don't know what you do, but you suddenly have punctures in the crook of your arm and you can't stop shaking. And all the while, Roxi's telling you she's your best friend."

It was all coming out, her voice strained as the pitch rose. She laughed. "And so, when you finally give up, you find you have some bad habits left over! And, even though you try to find some sort of normalcy, you find that one-night stands really are the only thing people seem to be interested in. And who are you to argue, when everything you do just proves that actually having feelings makes it worse. Because people leave, and they manipulate, and when you get past all of that, it falls apart anyway and you lose them."

Her face and chest was flushed pink, as she took a deep breath. "So you can call Roxi up, if that's what you want, but that's not what I want for you, okay?"

At first, he just glared at her over the rim of the glass in his hand. Who was she to judge, anyway? Oddly, he noticed first that she had said his name. She never did that. And, okay, to most people it wasn't a big deal. But names held power and if anyone knew that, it was Declan. So it immediately caught his attention, even though he was already feeling slightly off.

The more she spoke, the more his forehead creased. He wasn't sure when he put his drink down. Maybe when she mentioned Spice. Or being shoved at strangers. Definitely by then. It was a snap decision, but Declan immediately knew he hated Roxanne. Especially because she had tried to fool him and he had almost fallen for it, just as he had with Danica.

He wasn't sure how to respond. He knew what he thought about it, obviously. And he knew that he wanted to comfort her somehow. But he wasn't sure he was able to, and that seriously sucked. It made him feel all the more incompetent. It was yet another thing he wasn't good at. Dom was stood there telling him more than he ever would have asked her to, and trying to protect him. But he couldn't even come up with something to say that could make her understand that he had listened and that he was sorry.

He wanted to be defensive, as if that would help anything. He blamed that instinct on the liquor, though it couldn't have worked that fast. Instead, he just crossed his arms and frowned.

"That was never my intention. I was making an observation, but I know it wasn't fair. If all that is what you wanted to tell me earlier, I get it. She's a bitch and you don't feel safe. I wouldn't either. It's like what I said earlier, though. I can't help you if you won't just trust me for once. I don't care if your family doesn't see it, or if you feel stuck.

"Love, I want to help you but you just don't get it! I would protect you if you would let me, but that comes with taking a risk. I could help make sure you don't feel so lost or like you don't know how to do any of it. I can't do that unless you let me, though. And if you decide you can't trust me, can't give it a shot, I honestly don't know. I don't have friends who are girls. So I don't know how that works. I'd be suggesting Quidditch games and that you come in while I'm working. Because nothing else would feel safe enough for you.

"So don't worry about me getting in touch with Roxanne. I'd sooner hex her. After everything you've said, she deserves much worse. I may have to ban her from the Leaky just because I can. ...But if you won't consider this, I'll have to ask you to leave me to it," he concluded, lifting the glass and tilting it from side to side almost sadly.

He was being all calm and serious and mature... and she wanted to punch him for it. It wasn't fair that she had to get all obnoxiously emotional and he could just calmly respond to her. She really wanted to tell him that this was the reason they would never work, just to spite him, even if that wasn't true. Because, somewhere, deep down, she knew that this was an interesting dynamic, and a helpful balance. He could keep her grounded, and she could help him cut loose. But this wasn't a helpful train of thought. It just made her more frustrated, because this was all more complicated than she wanted.

And it was mostly her fault.

She nearly growled as she swept across the room towards him, pulling the glass out of his hand. She made a movement as though she wanted to throw the glass aside... but that would just be rude. (It was hard to get alcohol out of the carpet - she knew from experience). She changed plans almost immediately and awkwardly set the glass down, before turning to look at Declan.

She balled her hands into fists, before opening them again... followed promptly with closing them. "Gah! This isn't about you not being great, Declan! You're f*cking brilliant. You're smart, you're hard-working, you're sexy, you're kind, you're funny! You're, like, the greatest guy I know. And I'm not about to f*ck you up! Because I will! Okay?!"

"I don't believe you."

If he could have gotten away with leaving it at that, he would have done. But it wasn't what she would have wanted him to say, and he knew that. So some elaboration was probably in order. In the back of his mind, Declan registered the fact that he hadn't spoken this much to anyone in weeks. Somehow, it felt really good even if it was just an argument.

Or was that the whiskey? He couldn't tell anymore.

Sure, her compliments did a great deal to amuse him, if not appease him a bit, but she didn't stop with just those. Of course not. She still didn't believe in the system that so many around them were a part of. Was she just oblivious to the good because she had experienced too much of the bad? That made vaguely-tipsy!Declan rather sad. It also ruined his internal grammar. Luckily, he made a bit of sense - to himself anyway - when he got the words out.

"I know you don't want to hear this, and I'm not saying it to point fingers or offend or anything else, but you can't be f*cked up by someone if you don't let them. I know where I stand. You must know that by now. I'm not going to start getting high or anything else just because someone wants me to.

"If you can't give up your lifestyle of doing whatever you want or sleeping with whomever you're attracted to, then no. This won't work. And I wouldn't change my mind about that, either. However," he continued, pushing himself up so he stood well within her personal bubble, "if any of those things you said about me mean enough for you to consider trying something more meaningful, you've got to tell me. It could be amazing, Dom. You'd have me to turn to if Roxanne did anything and you needed help, or if you just wanted to talk. Or not talk," the liquor cut in for him. "It could be everything, but you wouldn't ever know. And I could find that with someone else eventually, but right now I don't want anyone else.

"I actually really do like teaching," he put in seemingly out of nowhere. Declan's hands reached for hers blindly as he spoke, luckily making purchase as his fingers located Dom's. "I want to show you why you're wrong about this, and about yourself. Let me show you why it's worth it."

Sometimes, Dom's youth was incredibly apparent. Like, now for instance. There was nothing sophisticated about the expression that possessed her features when Declan Arryn had the gall to say he did not believe her.

For once in her life, she had really tried to open up and show what was inside the bubbly, vapid shell that got so much attention. The soft inside, full of insecurity and cynicism and fear, was largely believed to be nonexistent, leaving her to battle it alone. And it was real. And it did hurt. But even as she tried to open herself so he could see, hoping it would make him understand, that toxic outer layer had reached out, shrouding the truth in the mist of her built up persona, because it was what she knew.

And the fact that he had seen through it... when she hadn't even realized she had done it...

He was right. About all of it. Because he was older, more experienced, more centered. He had been in mature relationships before, whereas she had only ever relied on the convenience of lust and vain friendships. He knew what they were missing out on. She could only guess, only suppose. And, despite her free-spirit personality, it was too scary for her to wager a hope against what she knew to be true - that she could break hearts and break people and she could make Declan hate her, just by being herself. Dom, the F*ck-Up Queen.

He didn't know her as that. Somehow, he had gathered a bolder belief in her, that she could overcome her psychology and defy her pathology for ruining everything. And it was a lot of pressure, pressure she was really not used to. Despite the frightening nature of it, though, there was something affirming about it. She had earned a better opinion, and it was hers to lose.

She really didn't want to lose it though.

He took her hands, and she looked down at them. She had not gone rigid against his touch for the first time that night. She took in a deep breath and let out a sigh. "I'm a rubbish student, so you might have your work cut out for you."

At first, he didn't understand what she meant. He really shouldn't have drank all that. But then he blinked and suddenly it all made sense, and for whatever reason she had agreed. It was a sort of cheeky answer, but she had said yes in her own way, even if Declan had no idea which bit of his reply had triggered it. He didn't actually care now that it had worked, though. She was giving it a go! He couldn't even figure out what the proper response to such a win would be. People would sing songs about him for ages to come - or they would have if he had remained that off-kilter forever. In his head, at the least.

But a slow smirk grew across his cheeks and he decided he could probably get away with being cheeky, too. "I may not be great at teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, but I have a feeling I'll put far more effort into this teaching job."

And with that rather poor attempt at a joke, Declan released one of her hands so he could reach forward and push a chuck of hair out of her face. "I'm really glad, Dom," he uttered quietly, wishing for the tenth time that he hadn't been drinking.

That came to mind again, by the way, because he wasted no time in leaning down and closing the gap between them. That free hand snuck under her arm to curl around her back, but he made sure not to be too forward with it, and pulled away after a few moments. The arm remained around her and Declan grinned widely as he looked down at her.

"You're wonderful, you hear me? I couldn't be less worried about any of the things in your past. Seriously. But I want you to be happy in this. So you have to tell me if anything feels wrong or unusual to you. Alright, love?"

The smile that unfolded across Declan's previously anxious features warmed something within her. It was the first sign of happiness she had provided him, and as long as she continued to work to making that expression happen, she would feel confident about her place in... this. Oh, Merlin. Was this a relationship now? Was Declan Arryn her boyfriend? Was she his girlfriend?

Heh. [You must be registered and logged in to see this link.]

She grinned widely and he stepped closer, taking her face in his hand. She stared at him as he told her that he was glad and she nodded, her wide eyes locked onto his. "Me too." And then he kissed her.

This was their first sober kiss, wasn't it? This was the first contact they had made that did not need to be analyzed, or that felt lopsided. This was their first mutual act together, and he pulled her close, and she breathed him in, hand floating up to his neck as she enjoyed Declan Arryn. This was what made it all worth it.

She wobbled her head in response, holding tightly to him. She thought seriously for a moment, before trying a hand at this whole maturity thing. "Well... we probably shouldn't... do anything. Because you've been drinking and I'm, well-" She didn't think she needed to to elaborate after her word vomit from earlier. "But, could I stay here tonight?" I want to be near you. This time, she managed to convey her thoughts with her eyes, as one of her hands caught him, squeezing tightly.