Something sewn under my skin

He was used to butterflies, but not about other people. He got them before he stepped on stage, though he hadn’t done that for too long. Perhaps that was why he was getting them now. His body had become unused to the combined rush of nerves and excitement.

Shylock stepped out of the floo into his sister’s rooms and tiptoed across to the door. He spared a glance for the figure with her dark hair splayed across the pillow before quietly shutting the door behind him.

It was too early for anybody to be about in the hallways yet, something for which Shylock was thankful. If he’d been discovered, he would have had to come up with some lie about visiting Destrey and then she’d never let him rest until she discovered the truth.

He knocked on the door of the Slytherin Head of House’s chambers.

A knock startled Selwyn out of slumber. He groaned, rolled out of bed and shrugged into the forest green dressing gown that had been thrown over the end of the bed. It was practically morning; surely the prefects could handle the first years’ nightmares for once?

Hauling open the door (the Slytherin dungeons had once been used as actual dungeons; the doors were heavy), Selwyn was startled to find himself looking upward as he rubbed sleep out of his eyes.

“Good morning?” he greeted his visitor roughly.

This was unexpected.

Shylock had an entire spiel planned, but it was of a rather personal nature. As a rule, Slytherins were unrepentant gossips. He certainly didn’t want to say anything where Selwyn’s students could just overhear.

“Can’t believe you’re just waking up,” he said, stepping past and into Selwyn’s room. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for breakfast by now?”

“So, I’ve been thinking and I think we can do this,” he said.

Selwyn was still well groggy from being woken so early. And so suddenly. And by Shylock.

“Sure, come in, make yourself at home,” he mumbled as Shylock pushed past, the door swinging shut behind him.

As Shylock took in the modest surroundings, mostly bookshelves and house banners, Selwyn returned to sitting on the bed.

“It’s five in the morning, Shylock. Even the Quidditch players aren’t up,” he said after a glance at the clock. “Breakfast won’t be on the tables till seven-thirty.”

Then Shylock kept speaking and Selwyn was catapulted into proper wakefulness.

“I thought you were pissed off at me?” he checked.

“Not exactly,” Shylock replied. “Confused. Didn’t know if I should be angry or not.”

He drew up the chair from Selwyn’s desk and turned it to face his… well, they’d get to that later.

“Anyway, the more I thought about it the more I realized I didn’t have a lot of room to criticise. It wasn’t like I was planning on telling Kaiden about you. I’ve broken up with him, by the way.”

This morning was getting a bit much. If Selwyn had any more sudden surprises he might need to visit the Hospital Wing.

“I hope you didn’t tell him that was why you broke up with him?” Selwyn said. “Because when he figures out who I am to Addie he could make life really hard for her.”

“Oh my god!” Shylock was suddenly exasperated again.

“Everything isn’t about you, Selwyn! I wasn’t doing you a favour. I just didn’t want to be with him anymore.”

Admittedly, spending time with Selwyn was what had clued Shylock in to his apathy about Kaiden, but he wasn’t about to let Selwyn know that.

“And he is Adrienne’s husband. If anyone’s making life hard for her, it’s you.”

“Think about it. Before you came along trying to save her, Adrienne may not have been blissfully happy, but Kaiden wasn’t interested in her one bit. Now, she’s embarrassed the family so much that if they get their hands on her, his parents will probably stand by and watch to make sure they both do their part to carry on the family line.”

“And then you come by and decide you want to start something with me,” he said. “You constantly try to make out that you’re so selfless and care so much about everyone else, but everything you do is for yourself.”

Selwyn fell back onto the bed, throwing a forearm across his eyes. It wasn’t like he wasn’t aware of the things Shylock accused him of. Well, maybe the part about him making life hard for Addie. He’d known it would make her life difficult in the short term but he really had been trying to help her. It being convenient for him? Yeah, he knew that.

And he didn’t really see what was so wrong with starting something with Shylock, although intellectually he knew it wasn’t really acceptable. This was the part of their conversation that had been cut off the other day. The part about how the hassles of being part veela weren’t just being simultaneously objectified and treated like a potential rapist. Veela culture had totally different values than most human cultures did, especially about relationships.

He sighed and let his arm slide onto the bed above his head.

“Okay I’m a selfish prick,” he agreed, though he knew Shylock wouldn’t be impressed with the delivery of this self-assessment.

If it had been anyone else – including Addie, probably – Selwyn would’ve upped the ante by doing something stupid like asking why they came if only to start a fight. He wondered whether the fact that he refrained meant he was maturing or just desperate.

“I honestly don’t know what you want me to do,” he said. “I wasn’t lying when I said I might be polyamorous. It’s a pretty common thing for people like me.”

“People who want to screw more than one person at a time, or just people who are hopelessly indecisive?” Shylock asked dryly.

Shylock knew full well what polyamory was. He’d even go so far to say he was poly-compatible, inasmuch as he didn’t mind if his partner had other partners.

Right now, he just wasn’t thrilled with hearing so much about Adrienne and was indulging in his petty side.

“I want you to pay me some attention,” he said. “Is it any wonder I assumed you were trying to make Adrienne jealous when you talk about her all the time, but you’ve yet to tell me even one thing you like about me?”

Selwyn reached for a pillow and lobbed it at Shylock’s head.

“Veela, you idiot,” he said. “It’s common for people with veela blood. They don’t have the same cultural taboos as humans.”

He pushed himself onto his elbows at Shylock’s complaint. It was probably a justified feeling. Selwyn might have spent a lot of time talking to (at?) Shylock about Adrienne, but he didn’t spend any time talking to Adrienne about how he felt about her.

He gave an uncomfortable half-shrug.

“How am I even supposed to answer that?” he asked. “I could tell you how amazing your eyes are, but I doubt it’s anything you haven’t heard before. I like you. I want you. I might not say much, but I don’t say anything to Addie either. I probably have mentionitis about you whenever I’m around other people.”