Life Captured (Colin/Astoria, T)

[interhouse_mod]

Title: Life Captured
Author/Artist:
Characters: Colin Creevey, Astoria Greengrass
Prompt number: 197
Word Count: 11,067
Rating: T
Warnings: Mention of therapy and prescription drugs, PTSD
Summary: Colin enjoyed the safety of hiding behind his camera, never truly taking a moment for himself. That is, until, he accepts a job to photograph an old inn. Astoria never felt free, confound with her mother’s expectations and her blood status’s obligations. She finally takes flight in order to breathe.
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters, items and places belong to JK Rowling. I am not profiting from this work.
Author’s Notes: I want to thank one of my dearest friends, Mahawna, for beta’ing this for me. I can be quite annoying on longer pieces, and she was amazing through it all (as always). I also plan on expanding this one - these two characters kind of jumped out at me, and this story grew three times longer than I anticipated! Hope you enjoy





Life Captured

His eyes had long since adjusted to the darkness of his workspace, sitting and waiting for the various moments captured in a frame to develop. He hid behind the lens of a camera his entire life, photographing the world around him and forever freezing those glorious happenings with a single flash.

The low red lighting illuminated off his mousy blond hair, reflecting an eery glow in his eyes he was thankful he couldn’t see. He would have been oblivious to knowing, had it not been for his brother’s teasingly annoying tone reminding him the sight of red eyes looked like He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was obviously a foolish thing to say, and seemingly a bit over exaggerated, however that was the youngest Creevey’s way. He could make jokes about the darkest wizard of their time because he didn’t see what Colin saw. What he still sees.

He’d lost track of how long he’d been locked away in his darkroom, hanging and drying his work for hours, maybe days, in complete solitude. Luckily, his muggle job allowed such absences to go without repercussions, his work being some of the best the magazine had ever seen. Of course he would never admit his use of simple enhancement or immobilizing charms to help him achieve the perfect shot.

“Colin?” A knock on the door caused Colin to shake his head, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Colin, are you even alive in there? Do I need to send a rescue party?”

“Dennis, if you don’t have anything important to say, I suggest buggering off!” Sharing a flat with his younger brother had its ups and downs. Now was definitely one of those down moments.

“Mum called again. She wants to know if we were coming for dinner?” Dennis’s words were muffled and Colin groaned at the loss of his silencing charm.

Without responding, Colin creaked open the door, making sure the exposures of his pictures were left unbothered before exiting altogether. He zipped past Dennis and headed straight to the lavatory for a shower. If his mother demanded them at dinner, they would be there, regardless of how she asked. She was right paranoid, demanding he and his brother spend numerous occasions in the company of their parents; enjoy life as a family in case anything threatened to change it. He had tried to tone down the severity of the war when explaining it all to his parents, but Dennis had been just a boy, hell Colin was a mere sixteen when he was called back to fight, and they refused the younger boy to go back with him after they were all forced into hiding.

He envied his brother at times, if not resented him. Colin had insisted he play the hero to keep his younger brother safe; wanted to prove to Harry Potter and to his own family he could make a difference. Perhaps he did, but all Colin felt he gained from the experience were nightmares and scars, both of which still lingered.

He met his brother in the foyer of their flat, both simultaneously wearing collared shirts and jeans, as he grabbed his keys and prepared for their drive to their parent’s home outside the city, his camera in tow.

“This should be fun,” Dennis was fidgeting with his collar as they descended the stairs to the parking garage. “Mum has been extra needy this past month. Think it has to do with the anniversary of the war?”

Colin didn’t respond right away. He wouldn’t put it past his mother for knowing the specifics regarding the dates back during his sixth year, or lack of it. She was always precise with events, never missing a birthday or anniversary of a lost tooth, so naturally she would know today would mark six years since everything changed.

“Let’s just hope she doesn’t have a cake with I Survived across the top.” Colin climbed into his car, Dennis following suit with a laugh upon his lips. Colin could make jokes on the outside, but the truth was, a part of him did die that day on the battlefield.

The drive was quiet, Dennis on his phone and Colin lost in his thoughts behind the wheel. He chose to heed the muggle life overall, using magic with minimal use to remain under the radar. The dangers have passed, sure, but Colin was more than happy living his days simple. He would have his itch on occasion, taking his brother up to their father’s hunting cabin to throw spells around at targets, but aside from that, and his enhancement spells to his camera work, he happily went without.

When they pulled into the drive of their parent’s perfect cookie cutter cottage: the white fence along the sidewalk decorated with pink roses, the bright blue shutters against a happy yellow siding - Colin began to recoil.

His parents were the epitome of quaint - his mother, the dainty housewife, and his father, the loyal neighborhood milkman. Colin had seen the reality of the world his childhood covered up with happy pleasantries; a delicate locket hiding the true picture inside behind its perfect glimmer and clasp.

He loved his parents, and the life they provided for him, helping him to appreciate the beauty this world was capable of providing, but he couldn’t unsee the images of the battle, couldn’t escape the recurring scene in his head where sadness seemed to loom.

He would flinch at every shadow, even in his parent’s sugar coated home, unable to prevent jumping at the slightest of movements or sound. It’s why he found solitude behind his camera lens. Found comfort in knowing he could in fact hold onto the beauty he felt fading in this life.

“Colin?” His brother’s voice brought him back to the current time, sitting in the car with both hands clasped firmly on the wheel. “Are...are you coming?”

Colin remained still; he could hear the concern in his brother’s tone, the recognition of the scared look in his gaze. It was the same look his parents gave him; the same pity filled eyes his therapist would glance his way as she wrote another prescription to deal with his struggles.

“My boys!” His mother emerged from her home with arms in the air, her pink dress perfectly pressed behind a flour coated apron.

“Hey Mum,” Dennis was wrapped into his mother’s arms, his words muffled against her shoulder.

Colin finally removed himself from the car, walking somberly to his mother and enveloping himself into her warm embrace. Her cheerfulness was infectious, despite the demons who poked in his head, and he breathed a smile into her hair.

“I’ve got everything ready for supper, dears!” She said, looping her arms across each of their backs and sandwiching herself between them. She was shorter than her sons, and the lean boys towered over her. “I was hoping to stop in and grab a bottle of wine, but I just simply didn’t have the time.”

“What she means is, she was too busy making a fuss over everything else she lost track of that time.” His father was standing in his accustomed blue sweater and khaki slacks, a cork pipe in his hand. He was smiling on the front porch as his sons and wife approached.

“Seriously, mum, you would think we weren’t just here last week,” Colin’s tone was playful, but his mother pursed her lips.

“Can I not spoil my family once in awhile?”

Colin and Dennis exchanged a glance, smiling genuinely as they both peered over to meet their father’s soft eyes.

“I could go grab us a bottle, mum. You should have rang me. I would have stopped on the way.”

“I told your brother,” his mother peered over at Dennis with a quirked brow.

“Oops. Hey Colin, mum said to bring wine.”

“Thanks, Dennis, real mature.” Colin rolled his eyes as he tossed his keys lightly in his palm. “I have no problem going. Be back in a bit.”

As he climbed back into his car he paused, watching his family’s smiles as they stood gathered on the porch. Picking up his camera, he held it up to his face, adjusting the focus and zooming in on their expressions. Simple pleasures. Those two words replayed in his head as his fingers snapped the photos: a mother’s embrace, a father’s acceptance, and a son’s admiration. His eyes remained on their backs as he slowly lowered the camera again and watched the people dearest to him disappear into the house.

If he was being honest, he was relieved to be leaving, if only for a moment. As much as his admiration for his family’s compassion was evident, he could only swallow so much. He took this time alone to think - he was always thinking - as he turned out of the drive. His time spent alone was only served in his darkroom, dipping and developing his photography work to distract him from the conflicting thoughts in his head. Flashes of the battle collided with the brightness of his childhood like splattered paint on a canvas, his brain a constant pattern of beauty and chaos.

He found himself walking the aisles lined with different bottles of wine and champagne, mindlessly reaching for a familiar label to return to the life he no longer fully connected with. As he walked towards the checkout, bottle loosely in hand, dark brown hair brushed his arm, knocking him from his musings. He found pause in his steps, craning his head over his shoulder to the passing stranger.

Her hair fell in waves, flowing with the sway of her hips as she practically flew, descending down the aisle. She didn’t turn back, unphased by the lightest of contact made, as she stopped briefly at the section of moscatos. Colin blinked, his eyes unable to pull away from the picturesque beauty hovered beside the shelf. He watched as she flipped her hair from her face, fallen when she leant forward, palms on her knees. It was a picture worth taking, and he cursed himself for leaving his camera in the car. He mentally clicked the flash in his mind, capturing the innocent and pure beauty of the woman before him into his thoughts.

“Sir?”

Colin zipped back to face forward and met the tired eyes of the clerk behind the register, impatience spread across his countenance. He chanced another glance back at the girl in the aisle, but she was gone. Shaking his head, he placed the bottle of wine on the counter.

oOoOo

Astoria sat, wine in hand, staring out into the gardens of her family’s manor. Her mother was going on and on behind her, talking to her and her sister Daphne about the importance of keeping up appearances for suitors. Astoria had long since tuned out her mother’s ramblings, losing herself in the wine she purchased before arriving to the manor and admiring the gardens under the soft setting sun. The scene was picturesque: the tall decorative hedges illuminated against the melting purples and tangerines of the sun’s disappearing rays behind the clouds, and projected streams of shimmering radiance onto the flowers showering the grounds.

“Astoria? Darling? Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?” Her mother’s voice filled her ears and she turned, blinking up at her elder with her cheek pressed against the glass holding her wine.

“Yes, of course, mother.”

“Tori’s just lost in how wonderful it all sounds, mother. You don’t want to overwhelm her do you?” The soft voice of her sister was her saving grace, and she watched as the older woman, whose hair was as blonde as her sister’s, scrunched her well kept features.

“Yes well, I simply want the best for my two brilliant girls. I’ll leave you for now, but do remember what I said about this evening. Astoria, I’ve laid out that new dress for tonight’s festivities. I expect you to be presentable as always.” Her mother’s eyes shifted from her to Daphne. “And Daphne, dear, do try to help your sister keep up appearances this evening.” With a nod, she left the room, leaving the sisters alone.

“Where are you this time, little bird?” Daphne sat down beside her with expectant eyes. Breathing a laugh, Astoria accio’d the bottle of wine and poured her sister a glass.

“Not far. Scotland,” she pulled her eyes to the window once more and smiled. “I read of a place of seclusion while in town today,” she was fidgeting with the arm of her sweater, an oversized mustard color that fell off her shoulder. “I wish I could go for real. I’m tired of dreaming.”

“Never tire of dreaming, dear sister,” Daphne said with a smile, taking her hand into hers. “If you want to get away for awhile, I’ll make something up to tell mother.”

Astoria adored her sister. She had always been someone she looked up to: properly presenting herself in school and their pureblood society, allowing Astoria to tag along with her and her friends, and always having her back when it came to the constant nagging of their parents.

Despite the war, the Greengrass family had been able to maintain the status within the wizarding community, never fully involving themselves in the Dark Lord’s biddings and using their ties to keep in front of any possible rumors before they could fester. Astoria had gone to the school grounds with Daphne, despite the warnings from her parents on returning to Hogwarts that year the war broke out. They had heard of the trials going on, but Daphne wanted to be there with her friends, and Astoria couldn’t bear living in this house without her sister another year. Those first two years before her own acceptance letter had been unbearable.

She was the centerpiece to her mother’s plans and societal gatherings; dressed up in expensive dresses like a doll for high ranked families to pluck from the shelf and be sold off to the highest bidder. Her parents, her mother more specifically, had tried planning her wedding day since before she left the womb. At one point promising her to the Malfoy’s before he broke the contract outright, claiming his affections for none other than Ronald Weasley himself. It was a day of tragedy to both his parents, as well as hers, but Astoria had toasted Daphne in a silent triumph, both knowing the truth long before his proclamation to sever the marriage contract.

“Maybe I can skip tonight’s party?” Astoria’s eyes looked hopeful, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to miss her mother’s soiree. The reality of that fact set in deeper when she met her sister’s gaze.

“I’m good, Tori, but I’m not that good.”

They shared a smile before clinking their thin, clear glasses together, both dreading the inevitable events of their evening. It was easier for Daphne, she had already been spoken for, much to her mother’s dismay. A halfbood - a rich halfblood, but a halfblood nonetheless. Harry was a hero, however, with a strong paternal lineage - so the Potter name pleased their father almost too well. Astoria envied her sister in some extent, happy she was able to love her future husband; a luxury she herself may not be fortunate enough to endure.

“Back in Scotland, little sister?” Astoria’s eyes specked with an expression her sister knew all too well, and Daphne wrapped her arms around her loosely. “Don’t worry about tonight. Harry and I will be there to help you through it.”

Astoria scoffed, her sister’s comment unintentionally mocking her inner musings, and she rose to flee the room. Daphne, however, was on her heels.

“Surely you and your betrothed have better things to do!” she could practically taste the resentment drip from her lips. Surprise met both sisters’ eyes as her words left her mouth and Astoria dropped her shoulders. “Merlin, Daph, I’m sorry. I don’t know where that came from, truly.”

Daphne gave her most genuine of smiles, and hugged her younger sibling once more.

“I know what it’s like - to be displayed for all to see - and a part of me feels horrible this burden fell to you so soon.”

Astoria’s brow furrowed, her previous brief thoughts of envy and jealousy faded as quickly as they came, and she returned her sister’s embrace.

“Hopefully I’m as fortunate as you when it’s all over.”

oOoOo

The party went as expected: eyes of all shades and perceptions gazed upon her, scanning her person to the fullest, and hypothetically stripping her down. Her dark brown hair pulled up in curls tightly, not a single hair out of place, her eyes glittering under the lighting of the room; the perfect doll in her mother’s collection.

Astoria practically glided across the floor, excusing herself from the most recent of prospects and crossing the room to her sister and her betrothed, desperate for solitude and seclusion.

“It’s almost over, Tori,” Daphne said softly, linking her arm into her sister’s and leaning in closer to gossip about the men in their party’s company. Harry stood awkwardly beside them, sipping his firewhiskey while scanning the room and giving his input on those he knew from the Ministry and school.

“No, it’s over now. I need you to cover for me.” If looks could freeze a person in place, Daphne’s expression would have shattered Astoria into a wall of ice. “Don’t look at me like that, Daph! I am literally being pulled at the reigns and can’t take being caged up anymore. You said not to stop dreaming. Well, tonight I’m not only dreaming. I’m conceiving.” Harry could be heard laughing into his tumbler while Daphne quirked her brow, her arms crossing over her chest.

“This is utter madness that will get us both into a heap of trouble,” she squeezed Astoria’s hand, “but, it will be worth it. Go, little bird, fly away.”

That was all Astoria needed to slip away from the party. Once in the hall, she began pulling at the pins in her hair, her curls falling freely past her shoulders in waves and bouncing with every quickened click of her heels, then she unzipped her sparkling form fitting green dress, stepping free from its fabric, her pace never slowing. She craned her head once behind her, her mother’s voice calling to her suddenly from the direction of the party. With a smile barely brushing Astoria’s lips, she burst through the doors to the outside balcony, the feel of the brisk air on her skin as she stepped out of her shoes. Taking in a breath, she closed her eyes and leapt over the railing.

oOoOo

Colin emerged from his room the next morning to find Dennis lounged on the couch playing video games. Sluggishly, he crossed to the kitchen to prepare a much needed cup of coffee.

“Last night was fun, yeah?” Dennis’s voice carried, but he never looked away from the television screen.

“That’s one word for it,” Colin said sluggishly. “But you weren’t being hounded about why you haven’t found a nice girl by now.” He heard Dennis laugh, causing a snarl to erupt from Colin’s lips. “Laugh it up, little brother. You’re next.”

“Oh I anticipate that conversation much sooner than later. Ya know, seeing how you’re a lost cause and all.” Colin glared at the back of his brother’s head in silence, clenching the coffee pot tightly in his grasp as if to squeeze the life from the inanimate object altogether. “Killing the coffee pot only damages your day. Not mine.” Dennis was facing him now, a wide grin spread across his face.

“It’s moments like this that I truly regret not using magic on a daily basis.”

Though their mornings often started off with playful brotherly bantering: Dennis playing video games while Colin drank his coffee, this particular morning brought about a new twist to their routine - a job. Colin often peered through the local ads for additional work, but it was often local work or of weddings, which let’s face it, never peeked his interest. Today, however, was an article in search of a photographer for a retreat near Loch Shin, Scotland, requesting photos of the cabins and trails about the property. The opportunity would bring more to Colin than additional income, it would bring clarity and rest, away from his parents and brother; a chance to fill the vacancy where familiarity once dwelled. Without further thought, he was dialing and accepting the offer.

oOoOo

Colin’s drive down was peaceful enough, passing open fields and large tree covered overpasses, stopping every so often to snap the sun hitting the backs of the scenery. He’d paused, feeling the warmth and captured the simplicity before him. He’d needed this time away years ago, but could never bring himself to leave; could never allow himself that time alone for healing. He had always felt at peace with his work, but it never quite felt complete or whole; it never truly satisfied the dark space in his head. Despite the beauty he caught on camera, even the most beautiful of photographs can fade.

As the road turned from the poured concrete to the rough gravel, the drive morphing from smooth to ragged, Colin admired the change in vegetation, almost as if a whole new world opened up behind the old covered bridge and tall trees. The inn was small: peeling white stucco, but a stern thatch roof. It sat on a hill overlooking the loch below lined with a mountainous view behind it; the air up here was crisp and his fingers itched to photograph the rising sun over the tips of the trees.

“You must be Colin!” an elderly lady limped over to him, her posture leant forward and a cane under her left grip, but a kind face and welcoming smile. “Welcome, welcome! Your room isn’t quite ready I’m afraid! I wasn’t expecting you quite so soon, lad.”

“I left as soon as we hung up, Mrs. Crowley, anxious to be here,” he flashed the woman, whose name was on the ad, a genuine smile. He was truly happy to be here, and happier still to get started on his work. The inn and property had indeed seen better days, but the beauty of its location was never lost, and grew like the brush over time. “The ad mentioned needing help about the place?”

The ad did in fact mention handy work, not that Colin knew much in ways of manual labor, but he was more than willing to help. His wand could prove useful as well, though he promised himself he’d only brought it along for photo enhancements.

“Painting, trimmings. You up for that type of work? It would be such a great help. This poor inn has seen better days, but the loch is well stocked and the trails still seem to attract you younger types.” Colin smiled at the woman, nodding and accepting to assist in any way he could. “Your room will be ready in about an hour, Colin.”

“Not a problem, Mrs. Crowley, I’ll head down to the loch and get some shots in,” he pulled out his camera bag and began walking down toward the beach, not waiting for Mrs. Crowley’s response.

The beach was vacant, save for a bit of debris washed up from the loch’s evening currents and a group of dark winged local birds. He scanned the beach’s length in full, stopping only when his eyes fell onto a single white dove flying slowly over the water’s surface; its reflection dancing over the loch’s rippling light waves. He crouched down slowly as he brought his camera to his face, snapping as many pictures of the beautiful bird’s flight before watching it land on a twig aside the water’s edge. Seeing a dove in this region shouldn’t have been odd, however, this particular dove was completely covered in the whitest of feathers he’d ever seen.

He peered up the hill in the inn’s direction, squinting under the sun’s bright rays to ensure he was not being watched and pulled his wand from his bag. Clearing his throat, he cast a few spells over the loch and beach, creating and cleaning up the sand to appear it undisturbed, yet welcoming - taking more scenic shots and photos, and once again lost himself in his work; unknowing to him, the dove watched curiously off to the side.

He had spent the full hour, if not more, out there on the loch’s shoreline before he began to pack up his bag. Colin had aimed to head up to his room before venturing out about the trails. Glancing over at the branch he knew the white dove had been resting before heading up toward the inn, disappointment fell over his eyes as he trudged back up the hill. For the small bird was gone.

His room was small, barely large enough to hold the twin sized bed and side table. There was a bathroom, but it was located down the hall and shared with the other three rooms on the floor. Had the inn been in its prime, he would have minded the communal arrangements, but he appeared to be the only guest on his floor.

He grabbed a fresh towel and made his way down the hall, the worn floorboards creaked under his steps, but there was enough natural light pouring in to deter any odd feelings from the place; the inn was old, but cheery, despite its ware. Colin swung open the bathroom door, not minding there could potentially be someone else occupying the room, until a squeal was heard, knocking him from his admiration of the old structure details and to the cause of the sound sinking down into a large claw foot tub, concealing herself under a mountain of bubbles.

“O-oh my goodness,” he said, holding onto the doorknob and pulling the door closed again. He didn’t get a look of her face, but stood stunned on the opposite side of the bathroom, dumb struck in the hall.

Shortly after, the door swung open, a brunette in a robe stood in the doorframe with a cross expression, her arms folded over her chest. Colin recognized the girl, but couldn’t quite place from where, and found his eyes scanned her figure on their own, admiring the length in her legs, though she stood only just above five feet, her hair falling in waves until it hit her shoulders, then clung together as the water from her bath soaked into the soft tips of her locks, and the flattering way her short length robe tied loosely around her waist, exposing an achingly teasing view of her breasts. Her diamond blue eyes met his hazel, and he’d realized he’d been staring too long. Sighing awkwardly with a lump in his throat, he side stepped out of the way, allowing the brunette to swiftly walk passed, and watched her disappear behind the room next to his.

He shook his head, turning back to the bathroom to shower. The morning had wandered away from him, and he was ready to wind down and relax after his long drive.

With a yawn, he bent down to start the shower when he noticed the whitest of feathers on the floor. Colin scooped it up and ran it over the tips of his fingers, admiring the softness a single feather can inflict, and set it with his towel to take back to his room.

oOoOo

Once in her room, Astoria twirled her maple wand, drying her hair and sealing the door. She was stunned to discover another magical being here, hoping to remove herself from the trials she faced day to day at the manor, but she could feel his magic crackle the moment he jolted back and fled the bathroom. His face, though familiar, was nothing she couldn’t avoid. She’d keep her distance and stay hidden in the clouds. It’s what she came here to do after all.

Once dressed, she took to the trails outside - she’d seen the lake in its full expanse, and wanted to feel the earth beneath her feet. Tugging her wand, Astoria flipped her hair and descended the stairs. The old innkeeper, Mrs. Crowley, sat in a rickety rocking chair on the front porch, and Astoria was drawn to the woman, finding herself taking a seat beside her on an old wooden bench.

“Oh! Hello my dear. Is your room to your liking? I’ll have dinner prepared in a couple of hours.”

“You’re too kind, Mrs. Crowley,” she began easily, her pureblood etiquette prominently shining through, “and the room is perfect. This is just the place I needed to get away.”

The old woman nodded at her, and placed her hand over Astoria’s. “I’m so happy you’re here. And what luck! A young gentlemen about your age is staying with us as well! Perhaps you two could get acquainted.”

She truly was remarkable, Mrs. Crowley. Her simple and genuine ways made Astoria feel right at home, despite her encouraging another intrusion from the familiar stranger.

“Oh, we’ve met I can assure you,” she struggled to maintain her prestige, and Mrs. Crowley raised a brow at her, leaning forward in her rocking chair. Astoria had been staring out towards the lake when she spoke her words, and straightened her posture when she turned to catch the old woman’s response to them. “Oh! No, I only meant he walked in on me while I was taking a bath.” Mrs. Crowley’s eyes widened further behind her wire glasses and Astoria realized she was digging herself deeper. “I mean, it was an accident. I forgot to lock the door and-”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I was young once too.”

Mortified, Astoria cleared her throat and straightened her already perfectly pressed jeans. “Well, I’ll be going now! Heading up the trails.”

She practically ran to the forest’s edge, purposely ignoring the chuckling behind her. When she could no longer see the inn, she slowed her pace, finally able to enjoy the beauty of the landscape from the ground up. Despite the awkward ending to their conversation, Astoria felt at ease in this place - able to relax without the eyes of so many false pretenses following her every move. Her sister’s words stuck with her, and she often thought of them as a guide toward her self discovery never stop dreaming.

She’d lost track in her time under the trees and atop the highest point of one of the largest hills, basking under the sun as she laid in the grass, shoes removed, and watching the clouds slowly drift by. She could feel the tension in her shoulders relax, no longer feeling the stiffness of her doll-like manner she was forced to present herself as. No, here she was simply Tori.

“Beautiful day for a hike, don’t you think?”

Her eyes widened at the sound of another, a man, and she jerked upright into a sitting position, cursing internally for jinxing herself. When her eyes met the same hazel gaze she caught in the bathroom, unannounced, she snarled.

“You again. Do you always barge in on women in their time of solitude?”

Colin could hear the spark in her tone, and he raised his hands up in faux surrender.

“I’m only here to take pictures.”

“More pictures? Haven’t you taken enough already?” She quickly regretted her statement when she saw his reaction. He stepped back with an expression of shock, both brows raised to the top of his forehead and practically touched the mousy colors of his hair.

“How did you know I’d been taken pictures?”

Her Slytherin training did not go unpracticed, and she allowed her tone to change to that of calmed resolve.

“There isn’t anyone else here, sir. I clearly saw you by the lake when I pulled up.”

The boy nodded, and she almost thought she was in the clear until he challenged her with his response.

“Pulled up you say? I didn’t see another car.”

Astoria cursed herself a second time, and chose not to entertain the irritating boy further. Instead, with a roll of her eyes, she shifted back towards the sky and laid back into the grass. She had hoped the boy would take a hint, but to her dismay, he proceeded to bombard her with conversation.

“Did you take a cab?”

She continued to ignore him.

“Oh, I get it. The silent treatment. Great defense mechanism, really. It works for most people, but I’m afraid I’ve mastered that skill at the age of five. My younger brother is the master of annoying people you see, so I’ve learned that skill like the back of my hand.” His tone was that of playful and he held his hand up to show her, though her gaze did not falter or shift.

For a brief moment, she finally hoped he’d given up, but the sound of the camera clicking behind her told her otherwise.

“Do you mind? Surely there is another part of the hilltop you could snap away at?” She didn’t get up when she addressed him this time, but she craned her neck so to peer up at him. He was squatted down, resting his weight over the balls of his feet, his face partially hidden behind his camera. His camera that was aimed directly at her. “Did I give my permission for you to photograph me?”

“Well no,” he said setting his camera into focus and refocusing the lense, “then again, I didn’t ask for it either.”

It was all Astoria could do to not toss a stunner at the man. She jerked up again, spinning around to face him with a countenance that wasn’t as strong as she thought it was. Colin captured the expression with his camera.

“You! Stop that this instant!” She clambered to her feet, dusting the dirt from her jeans and began to storm off.

“Don’t forget your shoes,” Colin teased with another click causing another huff to emerge from Astoria’s lips.

She bent down, scooping her shoes up swiftly before stomping down the hill. Before she was out of earshot, she yelled back to him, “You shan't take another photo of me, sir! One can’t photograph what they can’t see!” She once again heard laughter at her back, and it caused her lip to twitch, groaning aloud.

Perhaps she was being dramatic, but the boy clearly had no manners, thinking it proper to invade her when she clearly preferred to be left alone. Still, she admired his bravery, despite the stupidity of how he went about it. Her feet carried her to a clearing in the forest, the sounds from the trees sang in her ears as the wind danced in her hair. The frustration dissolved and she breathed in the freshness of the air around her: the pines and cleanliness of her surroundings. For a third time, she cursed herself, this time, however, it wasn’t inflicted by the boy behind the lense, but of her coming somewhere like this sooner.

oOoOo

Over the next two days, Astoria had managed to do exactly what she had said she would: avoid Colin at all costs. He wasn’t too terribly upset about it, after all he didn’t know the girl, but he still managed to catch glances of her here and there about the property before she would disappear altogether. He continued his camera work, and helping around the grounds of the inn for Mrs. Crowley.

When he initially came to the inn, he hadn’t anticipated it would go down the way it all has. He assumed he’d snap some photos and move on, however, the more he assisted the elderly woman around the property, the more relaxed he became, despite the manual labor some mornings. He rather enjoyed this side of simple pleasures; away from the cookie cutter houses like his parents’ home, though quaint and welcoming as it was. Here, he had his seclusion and freedom to play with his rare itch for magic, but also the openness of the land without feeling closed up in his own head. His thoughts were clear and composed.

He was propped against the trunk of a larger tree just north of the lake, camera at his side and his computer in his lap. He’d been working on the edits of his prior day’s pictures when the movement of her hair caught the corner of his eye. He peered up, watching as the girl walked briskly to the beach, barefoot and dressed in a white sundress. She was illuminating the light’s rays, and the whitest of aura-like shines around her frame; it made his back straighten, his hand unknowingly reaching for his camera to snap the perfect shot.

Captivated could not begin to describe the scene properly, at least in Colin’s eyes. Nothing could tear his eyes from the woman, who was now walking up to her knees into the water, the flowing fabric of her dress floating above the water like a leaf, dancing with the current in a stream. He adjusted the zoom, framing her face with yet another click.

He chanced moving closer, craving another angle of the beauty before him. Unlucky for him though, he was not paying the proper attention of what was in his direct path in front of him, and tripped, loudly, into the thin row of brush before the beach’s edge. When he’d jumped up in a poor display of recovery, his eyes met hers. She wasn’t angry or scowling, but stood on the fringe of the water.

“I thought I told you no more pictures?” She had gracefully slid her hands to her hips.

“Ah, yes that,” he adjusted in his position, trying to work the kink from his fall in his back, and took a step forward. “You said no more pictures because I wouldn’t see you. Well, I daresay I see you, Ms.?”

It hadn’t occurred to either of them they had managed to dismiss proper introductions during their last two direct encounters. Astoria dropped her hands and straightened her back, an elegant brow raised.

“Tori.”

“Well, Ms. Tori, it's finally nice to have a name to the face,” he tipped his imaginary hat on his head with a bow. Astoria tried to fight it off, but she chortled at the movement.

They spent the remainder of the afternoon at the beach, a towel spread out for them as they laid on opposite ends, their faces meeting side by side in the towel’s center, innocently chatting away about the beauty of the inn.

“Were you planning on telling me about your magic?” Her eyes glittered under the direct sunlight, and her focus stayed staring upward.

“I’m afraid I haven't the slightest idea what you mean!” Colin shifted his eyes to her, his head barely turning to face her, faux shock displayed in his tone.

“Oh come on, Colin, surely you felt my magic too?”

He chose not to answer her, but sat up softly and peered down at her. He didn’t talk about magic with anyone but his brother these days, even his parents didn’t inquire about it anymore. It’s almost as though they pretended his and his brother’s youth never occurred, not that he wouldn’t blame him considering the outcome.

“How could it be that the sun is threatening to set already?” He squinted up into the sky, raising his arm over his eyes as a shield. Astoria rose too, her shoulder brushing his in the lightest of fashions. The action caused her to suck in a breath.

“You were in the market that day!” She was facing him, pointing her index finger at her own revelation. Colin leant back on his palms, trying to recall what it was she meant; and then it hit him.

“The wine girl?”

Astoria scrunched her beautiful features on her face.

“The… wine girl? That’s what you called me?”

“Hey cut me some slack, alright? I guess you could say I was intoxicated at the sight?”

He never knew laughter could sound so sweet, especially when that laughter was not in response to humor of the joke, but at the poor delivery of the pun itself.

“Oh, Colin, that’s just horrid.”

This time, Colin chimed in with the laughter, agreeing with her with a nod of his head and the tightening pucker of his lips.

With the sun no longer threatening to surrender the skies to her sister moon, but showing the flee altogether, Colin stood and offer Astoria his hand, which she gratefully took. Together, they walked back towards the inn and ascended the stairs to the second floor where their rooms were located.

oOoOo

Mrs. Crowley had breakfast made in the small inn’s dining hall, filling the entire downstairs with the smell of ham and coffee. Colin emerged with a stretch, dressed in loose jeans and the t-shirt he had slept in the night before. His mousy brown locks were mucked up a bit, but his smile radiated the space as he descended the stairs.

He met Mrs. Crowley at the table as she set the large platter down in its center, and he wafted the air toward the fresh made coffee sitting on the side table. He was halfway through his first cup when Astoria entered the room. She was dressed for the day, hair pulled back and wearing fitted muggle jeans with a large jumper. He hadn’t noticed his mouth had fallen open, not until his coffee spilled from his cup and into his lap, causing him to jolt at the hot liquid.

“I’m pretty sure coffee was made to be drank, Colin. Not worn,” her laugh was commoving as she lightly glided across the room to take a seat across from him, thanking Mrs. Crowley for the meal with a natural politeness.

“It’s my pleasure, dears. It’s so nice having young faces about,” she turned to Colin, her smile still as welcoming as ever, “Colin, you’ve been such a large help already, but I was hoping I could trouble you for more assistance. What would you say to taking a break from the photography work today and assist me with the barn?”

Colin was more than happy to oblige, nodding his head as he succeeded in another large sip of his coffee. “Of course. Just tell me what you need and I’ll get to work after breakfast. You know, Mrs. Crowley, you could generate a lot more business here if you go viral. I can help you create a web page with the images I’ve taken.”

You would have thought he was speaking in some form of foreign language; her expression turning blank with a confused demeanor. To her credit, however, her smile never left her face.

“My boy, if you feel it would help, I’m open to suggestions. But for now, I’d really love the barn cleared out and repaired. In its prime, it hosted many gatherings, weddings, the like. Now it’s nothing more than a sad ol’ storage shed.”

Colin flicked his eyes to Astoria, who was watching the exchange silently. A smile ghosted her lips when she felt his attentions on her, and she chimed in, her tone rather enticed.

“I’d be happy to work on the barn for you, Mrs. Crowley! Sounds like fun,” she stood then, drinking the last of her orange juice and licking the lingering citrus from her lips. Colin was transfixed on her movements and swallowed noticeably when her eyes shifted their focus to him. “This, web page was it? Sounds fascinating as well. You’d have to show me more about it, Colin, once the barn is done.” She paused long enough for his mouth to twitch on one side. She turned to Mrs. Crowley once more. “Think we could knock it out in a day between the two of us?”

Mrs. Crowley beamed in response, and ran down the list of repairs needed to complete the task. The three of them, once completed with their breakfast, walked out towards the northern end of the property, Mrs. Crowley giving the final details of her vision and pulling an old photograph from her apron pocket.

“It's beautiful,” Astoria said, taking the warped and crinkled photograph from the elder woman's wrinkled hand. “Is this you?” She pointed to the beautiful young bride standing beside a tall man in a suit in front of the once magnificent barn, some details faded like the remains of a shipwreck affected by time.

For the first time since they'd arrived at the inn, the older woman's smile faltered from her face, and displayed a pained countenance.

“Many years ago. But that girl is gone now. She took flight towards the heavens the day Emmett left this earth.”

Astoria’s breath gave, though she tried to hide it. To Mrs. Crowley, it went unnoticed but Colin witnessed the twitch in Astoria’s hand as she handed back the photograph. With permission, Colin took it into his possession and slid it into his back pocket of his jeans.

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Crowley. Tori and I will have the place looking like it once was,” his eyes met Astoria’s then, and she visibly relaxed, both of them sharing a smile behind the old woman’s back.

Mrs. Crowley left them to their work, and work they did: moving the old, rusty tractor to a display in an empty garden outside, where Astoria secretly twirled her wand to help the flowers grow to their fullest blooms. Inside, Colin had slid closed the doors to the barn, and worked his wand to organize and position the warped planks of lumber and faded the old paint away to display the original shiplap underneath. The barn began to really come together, much to his relief, and he tucked his wand away, admiring his past hour of work. Clapping his hands together, he tried his hand on manually organizing the remaining clutter.

Astoria entered then, having been working the gardens outside and cleaning around the outside of the barn, and stood back to watch the once sheepish lion lift and shift bales of hay to the base of the loft.

“Let me help you with that, Colin,” her words like silk from her lips as Colin peered up, admiring the way the sun framed her figure as she stood in the doorframe. “You always this careless with your magic, Gryffindor?”

A laugh escaped his mouth as he raised up to full height, towering over her small and petite frame. He was never close to the Slytherin girl in school, mainly too scared to approach her while she tagged along with the dreaded Malfoy and his clan, but she was nothing like what he had expected, her lame jokes aside.

“Gryffindor. Almost sounds strange now,” he wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “Hogwarts seems like a lifetime ago.”

Astoria frowned, dropping her eyes as she fidgeted with the sleeve of her jumper.

“It’s true, it does seem a time ago, but-” she dragged her eyes up to meet his once more. “Do you miss it?”

Colin contemplated her question for a time, trying to decipher the layers of undertoned meanings. Squinting at her, he finally replied, “I enjoy the muggle life. The freedom it allows without the weight of regulated restrictions magic prohibits. It’s nice to release it at times, sure, but there is so much more out there than magic.”

Astoria released a breath, one she evidently hadn’t realized was being held until its release, because she slowly walked over to one of the bales of hay and sat down, looking as though Colin had opened the copper cage and set the pet bird free. Scratching his head, he sat down beside her. A silence fell over them for a short time, but one that seemed to be comforting, if not welcomed. Abruptly, however, Astoria parted her lips and began to laugh. To Colin, it sounded like a release, the most beautiful thing his ears had ever heard, as well as the most infectious. He pulled a smile of his own, breathing the lightest of laughs.

“Why are we laughing?” He genuinely wanted to know. Rather than answering, however, Astoria rose and began climbing the ladder to the loft, reaching out her arms.

“We have more work to do, Colin. We should probably finish up so we can work on this web page thing of yours.”

Colin’s brows rose, rolling in his lips as he studied her once more, uncertain yet beguiled by her evasiveness. There was an air of mystery to his old schoolmate; a stranger then, and though still foreign to him now, he saw her in a newfound light. He stood up, not bothering to brush the hay from his pants has he reached and lifted a bale up to her. To his surprise, the not-so-fragile Astoria reached the hay up and over her head, never once losing her balance on the ladder. She climbed the remaining steps to the top and dragged the hay to the opposite side. Peering down at Colin, she slaps her hands on her hips with a smirk.

“What? Didn’t think I can lift a measly bale of hay?” She strided back to the ladder as Colin turned to grab another bale, laughing at her confidence.

When his back was turned, he heard a loud echoing crack! behind him, and he swiveled quickly just as Astoria fell through the worn, broken wooden floor of the loft. It happened too fast for him to react in time, but slow enough for him to catch the expression on her face before she collided with the hard ground below. Dropping the hay bale, he ran her side.

“Tori!”

She was laying on her side, motionless, with her right arm folded underneath her.

“Tori,” he called again, softer now at her side. As he took in her slumped form completely, his vision flashed, black visibly flooded across his eyes as his mind temporarily brought him back to the school grounds under a stormy sky; chaos and friends both in the air and on the ground. He fell backward, bringing up his knees and gripping his hands into his hair. The light from the room brutally being sucked out, that is until, he heard her.

The weakest of whimpers called him back, pulling him away from the demons in his head and beckoning him to the light, to her. His inner pain dissolved at his revelation of her outer cries, and he shook his head vigorously, crawling back to her side and sliding his hand gently beneath her neck.

“Tori...”

She moved, wincing through clenched teeth as the lightest of blood trickled from her temple. She tried to get up on her own, but collapsed into Colin’s ready arms when she applied weight onto her own.

“I’m fine, Colin, really,” her pained expression was evident she wasn’t, but he wouldn’t deny her of her strength. He allowed her to guide herself upward and rest her back against his chest.

“You’re clearly hurt, Tori. And you’re bleeding. Here-,” he tugged his wand from his back pocket and shakily aimed the tip of his wand.

“Whoa, Colin! Have you ever casted healing charms before?”

Gathered from her tone, Colin knew it wasn’t a question. If was being honest, he’d never been one to cast a proper healing charm, not even under the supervision of Flitwick or Pomprey. When he shrugged in response, Astoria sluggishly swatted his wand away.

“I can do it, Colin, just hand me my wand,” she weakly tried to reach her wand, tucked away at her side to no avail. Exasperatingly, she dragged her eyes up to Colin, silently beckoning him to retrieve it for her. Reluctantly, he obliged, carefully lowering his hand to her side and pulled the dark wooden wand, however, when the wand was in clear view, it had been snapped in two. “My wand! Oh no.”

Much to Astoria’s credit, she hadn’t cried, not after the fall, and clearly not after the loss of her wand. Licking his lips, Colin handed her his own wand, but she only blinked up at him.

“Take mine.”

“What makes you think it will work for me?”

“Look, you want to cast the healing or should I?” He didn’t mean to sound stern, but she wasn’t leaving him much of a choice. She stayed still, wincing once and she gripped her right forearm. “Together then? We can’t lay in this barn all day. Mrs. Crowley will surely come looking for us. We can’t have her find us bickering over a wand now can we?”

“I hate it when you’re right, Gryffindor,” she said as she grasped his wand, dropping it to the side.

“And they say us lions are stubborn,” he reached down and hovered his hand over hers that gripped his wand. Their eyes locking, he slowly wrapped his hand over her, both tightening their grip as he helped her raise it up again. She weakly said the incantation as he made his presence over the wand known, and together cast the perfect charm to relieve the pain.

Astoria’s face visibly relaxed as the pain dissolved.

“And your head?” he asked, gliding his index finger across her temple to remove the hair stuck to her skin from the drying blood. It was a simple movement, one with complicated meaning. Complicated, but comforting, and Astoria’s eyes fluttered at the feel of him.

“Just a scratch I think,” she said finally, clearing her throat. “We should finish up here.”

“You rest,” he began, halting her from getting up. “I’ll finish this, you rest.”

“I’m not a child, Colin! I can help!”

There were her undertoned meanings again and Colin did not miss them.

“Tori, I don’t doubt your abilities. You are strong, and independent, not to mention more than capable to taking care of yourself, but,” he shifted to rest on the balls of his feet, his arms resting on his knees, “let me do this one thing. Then we can go back and you can lecture me some more on my sloppy wandwork.”

Astoria couldn’t help it, she laughed, loudly, and dropped her shoulders in defeat. He allowed her to take control of the reigns on her healing when she fell: permitted her to get up on her own and cast her own spells. He was there, but not as a restraint, no. He was there beside her, to help her regain her strength so she could fly once more.

She sat back against the hay, watching his lips pull into a smile as he got up to finish the job, magically, and repair the hole from which she fell. Biting her lip under a grin, she agreed she would be lecturing him about his wand work.

When he was done, he walked back to her, standing a short distance to wait for her permission to assist her up, which she happily obliged. And together, together, they walked back up towards the inn.

That night, they lost themselves in Colin’s work as he masterfully typed away on his computer, organizing and creating a web page for the inn. It wasn’t long until Astoria, who had been mesmerized in the muggle technology, had fallen asleep in his bed. Not wanting to move her, he took the chance and squeezed in beside her, careful not to touch her.

She was on her back facing the wall, her left arm tucked under his pillow and her legs bent to the side. To his surprise, she rolled to her side when she felt the dip in the mattress, and tiredly took his arm to wrap her around the waist. His eyes went wide, but it was only brief, and he soon found victim to the same sleep as Astoria.

oOoOo

Colin had found himself taking residence at the inn for a little over a week, slowly gaining sleep and losing the demons in his head. He blamed it on the fresh air and the separation to the things that reminded him of the war and not on the beautiful brunette who resided in the room next to him or had innocently shared his own bed the night of her fall two days prior.

He laid in bed, working on the web page when his phone vibrated next to him, knocking him from his thoughts and he rolled to his side, squinting his eyes to visibly view his brother’s name and number across the screen. Reluctantly, he answered.

“Colin! Hey man, mum’s been worried sick! You still out in Scotland?” his brother’s voice was the same obnoxious tone as he always displayed, with even worse jokes.

“Den. It’s nearly eleven! What are you doing calling so late?”

“Mum wanted me to call you. I’m pretty sure she meant for me to call days ago, but uh, I forgot. So! How is prairie life, big bro? Did Lucy fall down the well again?”

“Come on, Den, it’s been a long day and I’m exhausted. Just tell mum I’m-” Colin’s words faded when he saw the gray barn owl soar by his window and heard the scratching upon the glass of the window pane. Moments later, the bird was let inside. Colin tried to lean against his own pane of glass to see into the room next to his, but all he could make out was the dim light from her bedside lamp.

“Hello… Society to Farmer Colin! Come in, Colin…”

“Tell mum I’m fine and I’ll be back in a week or two,” he hung up the phone, not interested in his brother’s response, his curiosity eating away at him regarding the owl post to Astoria’s window.

With a sigh, he settled into his bed on his back, his arm bent up over his forehead as he blankly stared at the ceiling. She was beginning to linger in his thoughts as the days went on - the beautiful pureblood with powerful magic - magic he swore he didn’t need aside from small and simple tasks. She contradicted everything he’d fought to forget over these past years, but getting to know her, the other side of living, intrigued his mind and caused it to wander, to want more.

o*OoO*o

Astoria jumped when her sister’s owl tapped her window. Letting the creature in, she retrieved a treat from the drawer in her side table, trading the gray barn owl for the note it carried on its right leg. She unrolled the letter with haste, but not surprised she received word from her sister after the length she’d been away. Her sister’s face would cross Astoria’s thoughts on occasion, but lately they’d been directed elsewhere.

Little Bird -

I hope you’re well. Mother is furious, if not irate, she’s unable to locate you. She was even worse off when I told her you were visiting Millicent in Paris for a fortnight. So, just so you know, all of London believes you’re living it up with the French. Milli was more than willing to help back up my story.

I have news though, and you’re not going to like it. Apparently mother has been busy in your absence, and has chosen you a suitor to wed within the year. Tori, it’s Neville. Apparently his grandmother passed away and left him a heap of inheritance. I know the two of you were friends back in school when he lead the resistance, so perhaps it won’t be all bad?

Please write me and tell me when you’re coming home. I miss you dearly. I hope you’re soaring to new heights and being safe. Also, Harry says hi.

With all my love,

Daph

Astoria’s eyes fluttered but she didn’t move, couldn’t move. Neville was a dear friend, sure, and she would never bring herself to harm him in any way. Had he not come into his gran’s inheritance, her mother never would have considered him at all and she would have more time to roam, to be free. She doesn’t want her future decided for her for anymore, not with the newfound knowledge she’s gained while out here in Scotland. Hiding under her mother’s nose.

Astoria wrote back to her sister, promising to reach out and speak to Neville about this whole arrangement. Surely he too thinks it to be madness. She had tasted the breakthrough she so desperately couldn’t accomplish back home at the manor, and wasn’t quite ready to leave it all behind. She laid down, tossing onto her side with wide eyes, her mind racing, and she found her brain refused her the satisfaction of closing her lids to sleep.

On the opposing wall, she heard Colin shift, and before she knew it she was up and walking into the hall. It felt almost like a calling, a connection driving her to his room. Her hand reached for the handle and she turned it slowly, in case he was in fact asleep. When she emerged and saw him squinting at the hall’s light, a sigh of relief escaped her lips, and crawled up into his bed, snuggling her back against his chest. When she felt his arm envelope her around her waist, she almost instantly felt at complete ease.

“You alright, Stori?” Closing her eyes, she breathed out deeply, snuggling closer to his embrace.

“Stori?” she asked drifting to sleep. She felt Colin nod behind her as he nuzzled closer to her on the pillow, his breath evident on the back of her neck.

“Stori suits you - like the timeless novel that you are.”

oOoOo

The weeks hidden away in Loch Shin had brought so much growth within Astoria; she had almost forgotten she was supposedly betrothed back at home. In all her years living at the manor, she never truly felt as though those walls could truly protect her, never perceived the roof would keep her dry from the waring storms of time. Not like here: with the freshly painted white stucco and strong reinforced walls, the stern thatch roof and freshly arranged greenery.

“Stori!” she spun on her heels to the man behind the three tier stand of a camera, laughing lightly at the scene of him gripping the stand to avoid it blowing over in the wind. Her face visibly lit up as she smiled, her hair flying freely about her face. “Stori, my lense! I left it upstairs.”

“Colin, just ask me to get your silly lense!”

He returned her bantering, smiling wildly under their sun, “Stori, can you please to grab my lense? It’s on the bed.”

She nodded, quirking a brow and spinning back to heed straight toward the door. Once upstairs, she walked swiftly to the bed to retrieve the missing lense, but stopped abruptly, eyeing a stack of photos half hanging from a folder on the floor. She lowered onto the bed herself, placing the lense back down beside her and hesitantly picking up the stack of photos from their location.

If she hadn’t already glowed under the soft lighting of the bright room, she would have blinded even the heavenliness of people as she lightly ran her fingers over the top picture. There on the page, was a gorgeous white dove in full flight, a wide open wingspan, capturing the current of the wind and the reflection of the lake. Tears glistened in Astoria’s eyes - this being the first time seeing herself in her animagus form while flying, aside from the water’s rippling mirror image.

She hadn’t known how long she sat there, losing herself in Colin’s work and reveling at the beauty she was through his eyes. It wasn’t until she heard the soft creak on the floorboard that she broke her focus.

“You like them?” he asked her softly, crossing the room and gently sitting beside her on the bed. Her gemstone eyes caught his hazel ones, a reddened shade glossing them over, but she didn’t look broken or sad. No, these were tears of revelation, of cognition. He brought his hand up, but hesitated, hovering it closely beside her. With a silent approval of a fluttering from her eyes, he brushed his thumb against her cheek, cupping his hand fully to her face.

“You know, don’t you.”

“Know what? That you are the most beautiful soul to ever exist on this earth?” His eyes searched hers. “Yes, I did.”

Astoria’s breath hitched and she leaned more into his touch. Her heart leapt in her chest, and she tugged the fabrics of his shirt, pulling him nearer. She audibly heard their hearts, both beating rapidly inside their chests as they raced to dance in unison. It was when Colin’s lips brushed against the flesh of her own that they finally did. It was gentle and sweet, washing them both over in a warmth, soothing their scars and healing their vexing thoughts of what was once loneliness.

He pulled back, catching her eyes again as they sparkled and it was all he could do not to kiss her again. But, he did the respectful thing, and sat back, entwining his one hand into hers.

“I want to show you something.” She blinked, clearly missing the contact of his lips. Breathing a smile he reached down, never letting her go of her, and grabbed his laptop. With one hand he opened it up to the page he’d spent days perfecting and turned it to face her. He heard her take a breath - there on the screen was the finished product - the old photograph of Mrs. Crowley and her husband displayed like new under a wide expanse of sky; a sky with the most whitest of doves in flight over the lake’s reflecting waters. The website created to bring forth those seeking more than what they knew while showing the inn’s charm and welcoming grounds.

“She’s going to love this, Colin. How did you-” when she peered up at him again, she was met with his lips, and though still sweet and gentle, he gave her everything he had - his passion, his soul, and his heart. It was in that moment everything else faded away. For the first time in her life, she was soaring without flying; for the very first time, he was capturing his life’s beauty without being hidden behind the lense of his camera.