September 16, 2019, 05:26:48 PM

Author Topic:  Roses are red, violets are blue... something something whiskey [Seamus]  (Read 26 times)

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Susan Bones [ British Ministry ]
26 Posts  •  22  •  Curious  •  played by Louise
“Oh Merlin.  I keep feeling like they expect us to perform a trick or something.”  She whispered conspiratorially to Seamus, nodding towards the latest set of curious eyes cast their way.  With a playful nudge of his shoulder she added, “Think you could manage a cartwheel?”  Susan gave a soft, short laugh before falling silent again.  Smiling and laughing were things that she was still getting used to doing more often, such outbursts being rare in the past.  Seamus was largely responsible for this change, thanks to the influence of his easy-going sense of humour.  Slowly, as they spent more time together, she was learning to be a little less serious. 

It hadn’t been until the party reached full swing that Susan realised it was their first time out in front of their friends as a couple; evidently making them somewhat of a spectacle.  The red-head tried her best not to feel self-conscious but couldn’t shake the awareness that their fresh new relationship was under the scrutiny of others.  It embarrassed her to realise that she hadn’t given her status with Seamus much thought but after several months and multiple dates it seemed undeniable that they were ‘dating’.  Despite having contrived for years to be too busy for much socialising, Susan had somehow managed to find time around her busy work schedule to get herself a boyfriend.  It was weird, but a good weird, she thought.  Probably.  Maybe?

Susan knew it was best not to overthink things, yet faced as they were now with other more openly affectionate couples at the party, it was hard not to draw comparisons and wonder whether she was underperforming as a girlfriend.  The hugs, kisses and little affectionate touches the others shared – would Seamus think she didn’t like him because she didn’t do those things?  Realising that she was gnawing anxiously on her own lip, the 22-year-old took a hasty gulp of her drink and almost choked.  Looking over at Seamus she smiled nervously, tucked a stray lock of hair back behind one ear and hoped he hadn’t noticed anything amiss.  There was a part of her that just wanted to ask (with her usual delicate bluntness) what he thought about the progression of their relationship – but another part of her was too scared about what his answer would be. 

There had once been a time when she'd been the kind of girl to paint her nails, braid flowers into her hair and daydream idly about romance, but those days were before and felt like a lifetime ago.  Susan as she was now did not know how to be close to someone – or if she even could.  If there was any chance though, surely it was with Seamus, who seemed to understand a little of how the trauma of the past had changed her.  So she did her best to try. 
 
Should I hold his hand?  Susan’s eyes lingered briefly on where Seamus’ fingers rested just a short distance away.  Do I want to hold his hand?  No clear answers came to mind.  Susan sipped her drink as she tried to think her way around this dilemma.  Having only two hands, giving one up to Seamus seemed like it would turn into a logistical nightmare in which she would be forced to juggle all of her food and drink one-handed.  It didn’t really make any sense on a practical level.  Plus what if she needed to use her wand quickly?  She would lose valuable seconds of reaction time having to extricate herself from his grip.  It wasn't like Death Eaters were going to burst through the door at any second…  Still, Susan would hate to be caught off guard if they did.  Clearly this was not a very normal way of thinking though; to link the act of holding hands with her boyfriend with a reduced capacity to defend herself against a hypothetical attack by a dark wizard. 

Both hands kept resolutely on the table before her, Susan struggled to find something to say.  Something normal.  The usual morbid and almost philosophical topics they sometimes discussed did not seem appropriate for the context.  Dean’s birthday party was not the place to air out their war wounds.  “You did a good job with this,” she offered a genuine compliment and a small smile.  It wasn’t a fancy event, being only in the Hogs Head after all, but it was still quite nice.  Simply convincing Aberforth to let them take over the place for the night would’ve been an achievement in itself.  “You’re a good friend,” Susan added after a moment, “Dean is lucky to have you.”

@Seamus Finnigan
« Last Edit: September 11, 2019, 03:33:40 AM by Louise »

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