FIC: Vignette - The First Return [The Dresden Files]
TITLE: Vignette - The First Return
DISCLAIMER: The Dresden Files doesn't belong to me - the TV series belongs to Lionsgate, and the characters themselves were created by Jim Butcher. Written for entertainment purposes, no money made, please don't sue, yadda.
FANDOM: The Dresden Files
PAIRING: Harry/Bob UST
WORD COUNT: 2,608
RATING: PG-13?
WARNINGS: Um, Harry's wearing uncomfortable jeans?
SUMMARY: Harry couldn't stay away forever, no matter how much he wanted to.
PRAISE BE: A warm thank you goes out to shiplizard and beachkid for their beta-reading, encouragement, and questions. I wouldn't have been able to make it without their patience and awesomeness. Thank you, guys!
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is part of the Forged series, which starts with Desperate Measures. You might want to read that first to understand what's going on.
***
The first time I came back to the Morningway estate, I almost told the cabbie to turn around and take me back to the Greyhound station.
My stomach was rolling and threatening to pitch the bacon and eggs that I'd forced down at Ebenezar's, my hands were clammy, and my bladder felt as though I'd never relieved it since I left Chicago three years ago.
On the other hand, the estate itself looked the same. The usually vibrant trees were reduced to twiggy shadows of themselves, the snow from this morning making them stand out even more. The building had always reminded me of some kind of fortress, or even the place where Dr. Frankenstein created his monster. Very imposing, very sweeping, with large bay windows that saw everything that happened on the grounds, and then some. Luckily, I couldn't immediately see anyone in the windows when the cab pulled up to the entrance, but that didn't mean that someone wasn't watching me.
I got my duffel bag out of the trunk, paid the guy with my last twenty, and turned toward the door.
I had to remind myself that this wasn't the moment of truth. It was just visiting. Uncle Justin wasn't the man I'd been dreading for the past three years, running away from home with my tail between my legs in order to stop being taunted with seeing the object of my affection and being completely unable to do anything about it except keep silent.
I don't keep silent. I did, however, seem to have a knack for running, very far and very fast. Already in the past three years, I'd traveled to three different continents, figured out a few spells on my own, and had found exactly one wizard. The fact that I'd found said wizard in Missouri of all places didn't bode well for any conversation I might have about how much I've learned while I was away.
I'd learned things. About myself, about the world, about how things worked. It just didn't amount to much magical knowledge, unless you counted the drumstick in my back pocket that I'd fashioned somewhere in France when I found that I needed a focus for some tricky spellwork.
Stars and stones, I wanted to run away. I wanted to turn around and just leave. This wasn't the homecoming I'd been hoping for, and I hadn't even had the courage to lift my hand and knock on the damn door.
That was taken care of for me soon enough, when the door opened a little, a maid peering out. She couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen, wearing a dark red shirt and black slacks. Guess Uncle Justin had decided to update. When she saw me, she blinked. "Excuse me, sir? Do you have business with Mister Morningway?"
"I sure hope so," I said, trying for a smile. "I'm his nephew, Harry."
She blinked again. "Please, come in. I'll tell him you're here." She opened the door wider, and I walked inside, setting my duffel bag down on the floor and waiting at the entrance. As she turned and hurried off, I could see that not much had changed since I'd been gone. Then again, I'd only been gone for three years. What was it I was expecting?
Justin appeared after a little while, still dressed to the nines, even though I recognized it as his casual-day suit, if such a thing existed. "Harry!"
I pasted on a smile. We hugged briefly, complete with awkward backpatting. "Hi, Uncle Justin."
"How was Europe?" He beamed back at me. I was surprised how much shorter he was now.
"It was good." I nodded. "A bit wet in places."
Justin chuckled, the light reflecting off his glasses. "Did you learn much?"
"Oh, some," I said evasively. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"Oh, no, not at all," Justin said expansively, motioning me to follow with an outstretched arm like he did when I was a kid. "There's a few preparations to be made for the holidays, of course -- parties to attend, guests to invite, that sort of thing -- but you got here just in time." He glanced down at my T-shirt and jeans, the jeans too small by a few sizes and a little too snug in some places, the T-shirt telling people to 'save a horse, ride a cowboy'.
I looked up to see him shoot me a look that said he was trying not to be amused.
"Too much?" I asked innocently.
"Perhaps you should go change," he suggested firmly, a smile still hovering at the edges of his mouth.
"Perhaps I should." I nodded in agreement. Just as I turned to go, I tried to toss a careless, "Hey, how's Bob?"
"The same," Justin said, the smile in his voice. "Cranky."
"Still?" Keep it short, Harry, I told myself. Short, simple, not begging for word of your own love who you so cruelly left behind because you were a big weenie.
"Always."
Knowing a dismissal when I hear one, I headed up to my old room, dropped my duffel bag, and changed shirts.
Or, at least, that was what I was planning on doing. My feet, however, decided that a detour to Justin's favorite study, where Bob's skull was kept when he wasn't tutoring me, would be a great idea.
The room looked the same as it did before I left. Overstuffed armchair, walls of bookcases, marble floors, the same aura of a museum where you weren't allowed to touch any of the exhibits. And there, on a small table next to the armchair, was Bob's skull.
Bob himself didn't seem to be around, but I knew he was in there. Maybe he wanted some time to himself. Maybe he was thinking about something. Maybe I should leave him alone, go do as Justin said, and change.
I never was one for doing what other people tell me to do.
"Hey, Bob?" I hated how nervous I sounded. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Bob?"
The orange ember of light fizzed out of the right eyesocket and swirled around in lazy circles, revealing shining black shoes, long legs dressed in dark grey slacks, blazer, dark red waistcoat, collar shirt, a dark red ascot, pale skin, blue-green eyes, and...
Bob stared at me for a long moment, blue-green eyes widening just a little. "Harry?" He blinked. "Is that you?"
"Hi, Bob," I said, slapping on a grin while I wanted to kick myself for sounding like a fourteen-year-old girl. My stomach chose that moment to plummet. My heart was starting to try to hammer its way out of my chest.
Stars and stones. This wasn't good. This couldn't be happening, not now. Not ever.
This wasn't fair.
My crush, my stupid teacher's crush that I'd been trying to get away from for six years... It wasn't a crush anymore.
This was full blown, head over heels, orange-colored sky, love.
Oh, God.
"Did you miss me?" I asked, wanting to say something coherent instead of gibbering in panic.
Bob's intense gaze started at my face, glancing up at my hair, which was standing up at angles because I'd forgotten to brush it this morning at Ebenezar's, and then to my face in general, probably taking in the five o'clock shadow that I'd been meaning to shave for the past few days. He looked down at my T-shirt and raised an eyebrow.
"'Save a horse, ride a cowboy'?" he asked critically, looking back up at my face.
I winced, wanting to hide somewhere. "I got it from somebody as a gift when I was in Texas. And before you ask, yes, Uncle Justin's already seen it."
"And he told you to change, no doubt," Bob said, his eyes lingering on the T-shirt. He never really had appreciated my fashion sense. Granted, I don't have much of one to begin with, but it was still mine.
"He did, yeah," I said, immediately wanting to kick my own ass. Was I ever going to not sound like an idiot? "I, uh. I was going to go change, but then I remembered I hadn't said hi. So... hi." I grinned quickly, my heart pounding in my chest.
Bob blinked, and then smiled a little, giving me a peek at his brilliant, crooked teeth, and curving his lips, and I really did not need to be thinking about this right now. My pants were starting to get uncomfortable. Well, even more uncomfortable than they were before, which was really saying something. "That's very considerate of you, Harry," he murmured, and oh, God, that voice. I was such a dead man. "Thank you."
"That's me," I offered stupidly, "Mister Considerate."
When faced with such witty repartee, Bob arched an eyebrow at me. "Though I must wonder at your idea of being considerate. Not one letter home over a three year span? Nor even a postcard?"
"Oh, y'know." I shrugged, thinking quickly and trying not to feel two inches tall. When it felt like my stomach had hit rock bottom, it started a low twist and turn to the left. "Traveling around a lot, no permanent address to send it from."
"Would it have hurt to telephone every once in a while?" Bob asked, arching an eyebrow. He almost sounded a little hurt.
"Do you know the going rate for long-distance calls to America nowadays?" I asked. If Bob actually knew, I'd be very surprised.
"No, I don't," Bob replied evenly, "but you could have sent word that you were planning on returning."
I blinked, startled by what he said as much as how he said it. "When did I ever give you the impression that I wasn't?"
"When you stormed out of here the day after your birthday, declaring that you needed to find where you belonged," Bob nearly growled. "In case you've forgotten, part of the journeyman experience is setting up shop in another part of the country. Or another country altogether."
"That doesn't mean I wasn't planning on coming to visit," I objected. "What, you think I could just walk away from this place completely?" I had to start being careful with what I was saying. Whenever I get angry or upset, I start losing control of my smart mouth, and I'd been stung by Bob's assumption that I could just leave him behind me forever.
"Three years without a word from you that you were all right, that you were doing well," Bob said pointedly. "What was I supposed to think?"
I started to snap back when I stopped myself with some effort. What had he been supposed to think? Looking at things from his perspective, it's not like he could've come after me, tracked me down without Justin's help. For all he knew, I could've been dead in a ditch somewhere, or enthralled by some black wizard intent on taking over the world.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my stomach feeling like a nest of snakes had taken up residence in there.
"Apology accepted," Bob said frostily. He breathed in slowly through his nose, visibly trying to calm down in silence. I wanted to turn around, maybe go to my room and change into something more comfortable -- I could feel a breeze around my exposed ankles, and it was kind of uncomfortable -- but I was rooted to the spot, watching Bob stand there, looking annoyed and wanting to yell at me, but calming himself down. It was an indication of just how far gone I was on him that I didn't want to miss that for a second.
"The years have treated you well," Bob said finally after the silence had gotten overwhelming. He looked at my gangly legs, my severely broken-in shoes, and then back up at my face.
I nodded, even if it was an understatement. Standing there in borrowed clothes, unshaven, my hair sticking up in places. The clean-cut wizard of the '90s, I was not. I cleared my throat out of nervousness. Okay, so maybe tension wasn't necessarily a good thing. He still looked annoyed with me. I thought fast, and then remembered something from the day I'd left the estate.
"At least I didn't destroy the world, right?" I offered, trying to smile, remembering our last conversation with a pang. If I knew then what I knew now, I might never have come back.
I surprised a chuckle out of Bob, from the looks of it, and hell's bells, he looked... wonderful. "Yes, Harry, thank you for leaving the world in one piece. I'm sure the High Council appreciates not having to travel the world in search of the dormant catastrophes you've stirred up."
"I would not have stirred up pre-existing trouble," I protested. When Bob raised an eyebrow, I managed a grin. "I would've started my own."
Bob looked unimpressed, shooting me an arch look. Hell's bells, was I in trouble. "And how was Europe?"
I nodded, feeling stupid as soon as I did it. "Um, Good. It was good." I told myself to stop babbling, and tried to think of the places I went. "I also got to see Brazil." I paused. "Venezuela. Peru. Ecuador. Mexico." I shut myself up before I started rattling off individual cities.
Bob watched me, his lips pursing. Oh, don't do that, Bob. Please, don't do that.
"Quite an extensive itinerary," he murmured, and I really didn't need my jeans doing that to me again, not now. I breathed in deeply and tried thinking about what few baseball statistics I'd learned a year ago. "I'm sure you've learned a few things along the way?"
The polite curiosity in his eyes, the way he pursed his lips, held his hands behind his back... I breathed in deeply, my chest started to throb a little. "Yeah," I managed. "I did."
He must have seen something in my face, because then he frowned a little. "Anything you'd like to share?" I'd heard that question hundreds of times before whenever I snickered at something while he was tutoring me, but he asked it in a different tone. More... understanding, I guess.
I could tell him. I could tell him that all leaving home had gotten me were my things stolen, feeling hungry and cold more often than not, and feeling more lost and alone than I'd ever felt before in my entire life. I could tell him that I'd figured out how to dedicate a wand on my own, that I made a friend in Missouri, that I'd seen things wonderful and amazing.
But instead, the first thing that came to mind was that I wanted to confess to being in love with him. I bit the words back.
"Nah," I said. "I better go and change. It's been a long day."
Bob nodded once. "I'm sure it has. You shall have to tell me all about Europe. It's... been some time since I was last there."
I pressed my lips together and nodded back, my heart feeling like it was going to break into millions of tiny, painful pieces. "Sure. I'll go change, take a shower, and then, we can..." I swallowed, trying to sound casual. "We can catch up."
Bob nodded, his lips curving into a pleased smile, his eyes twinkling. "Good."
***
By mid-January, I had learned that Bob was just as funny, intense, witty, and charming as ever. He hadn't really changed, and it seemed, neither had my initial reaction upon seeing him. If anything, it got... more intense.
A week later after that realization, I had a one-way Greyhound ticket in my hand, bound for Missouri.
END
To start from the beginning, this way to Desperate Measures.
This way to the prequel, Vignette - The First Confidant.
This way to the sequel, Vignette - The First Heart-to-Heart
DISCLAIMER: The Dresden Files doesn't belong to me - the TV series belongs to Lionsgate, and the characters themselves were created by Jim Butcher. Written for entertainment purposes, no money made, please don't sue, yadda.
FANDOM: The Dresden Files
PAIRING: Harry/Bob UST
WORD COUNT: 2,608
RATING: PG-13?
WARNINGS: Um, Harry's wearing uncomfortable jeans?
SUMMARY: Harry couldn't stay away forever, no matter how much he wanted to.
PRAISE BE: A warm thank you goes out to shiplizard and beachkid for their beta-reading, encouragement, and questions. I wouldn't have been able to make it without their patience and awesomeness. Thank you, guys!
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is part of the Forged series, which starts with Desperate Measures. You might want to read that first to understand what's going on.
***
The first time I came back to the Morningway estate, I almost told the cabbie to turn around and take me back to the Greyhound station.
My stomach was rolling and threatening to pitch the bacon and eggs that I'd forced down at Ebenezar's, my hands were clammy, and my bladder felt as though I'd never relieved it since I left Chicago three years ago.
On the other hand, the estate itself looked the same. The usually vibrant trees were reduced to twiggy shadows of themselves, the snow from this morning making them stand out even more. The building had always reminded me of some kind of fortress, or even the place where Dr. Frankenstein created his monster. Very imposing, very sweeping, with large bay windows that saw everything that happened on the grounds, and then some. Luckily, I couldn't immediately see anyone in the windows when the cab pulled up to the entrance, but that didn't mean that someone wasn't watching me.
I got my duffel bag out of the trunk, paid the guy with my last twenty, and turned toward the door.
I had to remind myself that this wasn't the moment of truth. It was just visiting. Uncle Justin wasn't the man I'd been dreading for the past three years, running away from home with my tail between my legs in order to stop being taunted with seeing the object of my affection and being completely unable to do anything about it except keep silent.
I don't keep silent. I did, however, seem to have a knack for running, very far and very fast. Already in the past three years, I'd traveled to three different continents, figured out a few spells on my own, and had found exactly one wizard. The fact that I'd found said wizard in Missouri of all places didn't bode well for any conversation I might have about how much I've learned while I was away.
I'd learned things. About myself, about the world, about how things worked. It just didn't amount to much magical knowledge, unless you counted the drumstick in my back pocket that I'd fashioned somewhere in France when I found that I needed a focus for some tricky spellwork.
Stars and stones, I wanted to run away. I wanted to turn around and just leave. This wasn't the homecoming I'd been hoping for, and I hadn't even had the courage to lift my hand and knock on the damn door.
That was taken care of for me soon enough, when the door opened a little, a maid peering out. She couldn't have been more than sixteen or seventeen, wearing a dark red shirt and black slacks. Guess Uncle Justin had decided to update. When she saw me, she blinked. "Excuse me, sir? Do you have business with Mister Morningway?"
"I sure hope so," I said, trying for a smile. "I'm his nephew, Harry."
She blinked again. "Please, come in. I'll tell him you're here." She opened the door wider, and I walked inside, setting my duffel bag down on the floor and waiting at the entrance. As she turned and hurried off, I could see that not much had changed since I'd been gone. Then again, I'd only been gone for three years. What was it I was expecting?
Justin appeared after a little while, still dressed to the nines, even though I recognized it as his casual-day suit, if such a thing existed. "Harry!"
I pasted on a smile. We hugged briefly, complete with awkward backpatting. "Hi, Uncle Justin."
"How was Europe?" He beamed back at me. I was surprised how much shorter he was now.
"It was good." I nodded. "A bit wet in places."
Justin chuckled, the light reflecting off his glasses. "Did you learn much?"
"Oh, some," I said evasively. "Am I interrupting anything?"
"Oh, no, not at all," Justin said expansively, motioning me to follow with an outstretched arm like he did when I was a kid. "There's a few preparations to be made for the holidays, of course -- parties to attend, guests to invite, that sort of thing -- but you got here just in time." He glanced down at my T-shirt and jeans, the jeans too small by a few sizes and a little too snug in some places, the T-shirt telling people to 'save a horse, ride a cowboy'.
I looked up to see him shoot me a look that said he was trying not to be amused.
"Too much?" I asked innocently.
"Perhaps you should go change," he suggested firmly, a smile still hovering at the edges of his mouth.
"Perhaps I should." I nodded in agreement. Just as I turned to go, I tried to toss a careless, "Hey, how's Bob?"
"The same," Justin said, the smile in his voice. "Cranky."
"Still?" Keep it short, Harry, I told myself. Short, simple, not begging for word of your own love who you so cruelly left behind because you were a big weenie.
"Always."
Knowing a dismissal when I hear one, I headed up to my old room, dropped my duffel bag, and changed shirts.
Or, at least, that was what I was planning on doing. My feet, however, decided that a detour to Justin's favorite study, where Bob's skull was kept when he wasn't tutoring me, would be a great idea.
The room looked the same as it did before I left. Overstuffed armchair, walls of bookcases, marble floors, the same aura of a museum where you weren't allowed to touch any of the exhibits. And there, on a small table next to the armchair, was Bob's skull.
Bob himself didn't seem to be around, but I knew he was in there. Maybe he wanted some time to himself. Maybe he was thinking about something. Maybe I should leave him alone, go do as Justin said, and change.
I never was one for doing what other people tell me to do.
"Hey, Bob?" I hated how nervous I sounded. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Bob?"
The orange ember of light fizzed out of the right eyesocket and swirled around in lazy circles, revealing shining black shoes, long legs dressed in dark grey slacks, blazer, dark red waistcoat, collar shirt, a dark red ascot, pale skin, blue-green eyes, and...
Bob stared at me for a long moment, blue-green eyes widening just a little. "Harry?" He blinked. "Is that you?"
"Hi, Bob," I said, slapping on a grin while I wanted to kick myself for sounding like a fourteen-year-old girl. My stomach chose that moment to plummet. My heart was starting to try to hammer its way out of my chest.
Stars and stones. This wasn't good. This couldn't be happening, not now. Not ever.
This wasn't fair.
My crush, my stupid teacher's crush that I'd been trying to get away from for six years... It wasn't a crush anymore.
This was full blown, head over heels, orange-colored sky, love.
Oh, God.
"Did you miss me?" I asked, wanting to say something coherent instead of gibbering in panic.
Bob's intense gaze started at my face, glancing up at my hair, which was standing up at angles because I'd forgotten to brush it this morning at Ebenezar's, and then to my face in general, probably taking in the five o'clock shadow that I'd been meaning to shave for the past few days. He looked down at my T-shirt and raised an eyebrow.
"'Save a horse, ride a cowboy'?" he asked critically, looking back up at my face.
I winced, wanting to hide somewhere. "I got it from somebody as a gift when I was in Texas. And before you ask, yes, Uncle Justin's already seen it."
"And he told you to change, no doubt," Bob said, his eyes lingering on the T-shirt. He never really had appreciated my fashion sense. Granted, I don't have much of one to begin with, but it was still mine.
"He did, yeah," I said, immediately wanting to kick my own ass. Was I ever going to not sound like an idiot? "I, uh. I was going to go change, but then I remembered I hadn't said hi. So... hi." I grinned quickly, my heart pounding in my chest.
Bob blinked, and then smiled a little, giving me a peek at his brilliant, crooked teeth, and curving his lips, and I really did not need to be thinking about this right now. My pants were starting to get uncomfortable. Well, even more uncomfortable than they were before, which was really saying something. "That's very considerate of you, Harry," he murmured, and oh, God, that voice. I was such a dead man. "Thank you."
"That's me," I offered stupidly, "Mister Considerate."
When faced with such witty repartee, Bob arched an eyebrow at me. "Though I must wonder at your idea of being considerate. Not one letter home over a three year span? Nor even a postcard?"
"Oh, y'know." I shrugged, thinking quickly and trying not to feel two inches tall. When it felt like my stomach had hit rock bottom, it started a low twist and turn to the left. "Traveling around a lot, no permanent address to send it from."
"Would it have hurt to telephone every once in a while?" Bob asked, arching an eyebrow. He almost sounded a little hurt.
"Do you know the going rate for long-distance calls to America nowadays?" I asked. If Bob actually knew, I'd be very surprised.
"No, I don't," Bob replied evenly, "but you could have sent word that you were planning on returning."
I blinked, startled by what he said as much as how he said it. "When did I ever give you the impression that I wasn't?"
"When you stormed out of here the day after your birthday, declaring that you needed to find where you belonged," Bob nearly growled. "In case you've forgotten, part of the journeyman experience is setting up shop in another part of the country. Or another country altogether."
"That doesn't mean I wasn't planning on coming to visit," I objected. "What, you think I could just walk away from this place completely?" I had to start being careful with what I was saying. Whenever I get angry or upset, I start losing control of my smart mouth, and I'd been stung by Bob's assumption that I could just leave him behind me forever.
"Three years without a word from you that you were all right, that you were doing well," Bob said pointedly. "What was I supposed to think?"
I started to snap back when I stopped myself with some effort. What had he been supposed to think? Looking at things from his perspective, it's not like he could've come after me, tracked me down without Justin's help. For all he knew, I could've been dead in a ditch somewhere, or enthralled by some black wizard intent on taking over the world.
"I'm sorry," I mumbled, my stomach feeling like a nest of snakes had taken up residence in there.
"Apology accepted," Bob said frostily. He breathed in slowly through his nose, visibly trying to calm down in silence. I wanted to turn around, maybe go to my room and change into something more comfortable -- I could feel a breeze around my exposed ankles, and it was kind of uncomfortable -- but I was rooted to the spot, watching Bob stand there, looking annoyed and wanting to yell at me, but calming himself down. It was an indication of just how far gone I was on him that I didn't want to miss that for a second.
"The years have treated you well," Bob said finally after the silence had gotten overwhelming. He looked at my gangly legs, my severely broken-in shoes, and then back up at my face.
I nodded, even if it was an understatement. Standing there in borrowed clothes, unshaven, my hair sticking up in places. The clean-cut wizard of the '90s, I was not. I cleared my throat out of nervousness. Okay, so maybe tension wasn't necessarily a good thing. He still looked annoyed with me. I thought fast, and then remembered something from the day I'd left the estate.
"At least I didn't destroy the world, right?" I offered, trying to smile, remembering our last conversation with a pang. If I knew then what I knew now, I might never have come back.
I surprised a chuckle out of Bob, from the looks of it, and hell's bells, he looked... wonderful. "Yes, Harry, thank you for leaving the world in one piece. I'm sure the High Council appreciates not having to travel the world in search of the dormant catastrophes you've stirred up."
"I would not have stirred up pre-existing trouble," I protested. When Bob raised an eyebrow, I managed a grin. "I would've started my own."
Bob looked unimpressed, shooting me an arch look. Hell's bells, was I in trouble. "And how was Europe?"
I nodded, feeling stupid as soon as I did it. "Um, Good. It was good." I told myself to stop babbling, and tried to think of the places I went. "I also got to see Brazil." I paused. "Venezuela. Peru. Ecuador. Mexico." I shut myself up before I started rattling off individual cities.
Bob watched me, his lips pursing. Oh, don't do that, Bob. Please, don't do that.
"Quite an extensive itinerary," he murmured, and I really didn't need my jeans doing that to me again, not now. I breathed in deeply and tried thinking about what few baseball statistics I'd learned a year ago. "I'm sure you've learned a few things along the way?"
The polite curiosity in his eyes, the way he pursed his lips, held his hands behind his back... I breathed in deeply, my chest started to throb a little. "Yeah," I managed. "I did."
He must have seen something in my face, because then he frowned a little. "Anything you'd like to share?" I'd heard that question hundreds of times before whenever I snickered at something while he was tutoring me, but he asked it in a different tone. More... understanding, I guess.
I could tell him. I could tell him that all leaving home had gotten me were my things stolen, feeling hungry and cold more often than not, and feeling more lost and alone than I'd ever felt before in my entire life. I could tell him that I'd figured out how to dedicate a wand on my own, that I made a friend in Missouri, that I'd seen things wonderful and amazing.
But instead, the first thing that came to mind was that I wanted to confess to being in love with him. I bit the words back.
"Nah," I said. "I better go and change. It's been a long day."
Bob nodded once. "I'm sure it has. You shall have to tell me all about Europe. It's... been some time since I was last there."
I pressed my lips together and nodded back, my heart feeling like it was going to break into millions of tiny, painful pieces. "Sure. I'll go change, take a shower, and then, we can..." I swallowed, trying to sound casual. "We can catch up."
Bob nodded, his lips curving into a pleased smile, his eyes twinkling. "Good."
***
By mid-January, I had learned that Bob was just as funny, intense, witty, and charming as ever. He hadn't really changed, and it seemed, neither had my initial reaction upon seeing him. If anything, it got... more intense.
A week later after that realization, I had a one-way Greyhound ticket in my hand, bound for Missouri.
END
To start from the beginning, this way to Desperate Measures.
This way to the prequel, Vignette - The First Confidant.
This way to the sequel, Vignette - The First Heart-to-Heart