After the day following Lavender's attack, Roger had been busier than he would have liked. He'd have given nearly anything to sort of follow Lavender around and dote on her, but that just wasn't in the cards. He'd had practice that he couldn't get out of, even if the team was ridiculously understanding and concerned about their new photographer.
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Then he winked.
( ... )
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As soon as she was close enough, Roger pulled her in. IF she was close enough to touch, he wasn't passing by the opportunity.
"We should sit," he suggested. "And you should tell me what you've been doing since you were freed."
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"I've just been keeping busy here," she told him, chewing her bottom lip. The first night she had found the bottom of a whiskey bottle and the day after was spent nursing herself out of a hang over. Every time she tried to get herself outside, she made an excuse to stay here. "I guess....I haven't gone out since I've been out."
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"Hm. Didn't want to? Nothing to do?" He thought he might sweeten the deal. "The team's asking about you and when they'll see proof of life for themselves, by the way."
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She chewed her bottom lip, getting a little lost in thought. Her heart sped up as she slowly turned towards the door.
"I suppose I could go tomorrow..." Her voice was a far away, different than usual.
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"They're not that worried about the proofs," he promised her. "But I think there's... a but attached to that last bit."
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"No, I know....It's just," she started, scratching the back of her head. "I just haven't....gone out." It lingered there with out her saying it. Not since the attack.
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"And you haven't gone stir crazy yet?"
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"No, I've been baking!" she reminded him, lacing their fingers together. "And you know how I love my mid-day soaps."
Actually, she hated them. The only person to ever get her to sit through a movie until the very end was Roger himself. Growing up it had been the idea of curling up next to him. Later on, it was the fact that by the end of the movie they weren't even paying attention.
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He raised an eyebrow but squeezed her hand. He hated that Lavender, outgoing and always adventurous Lavender, was having a hard time going out. It made sense, he figured. After something like that, who would be willing to go walk the streets?
Still, it didn't set right with him.
"If you want to go out anywhere, or just try... You know I'll come with you."
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But then she stopped. Her thought better of it.
"I'm just.... scared," she breathed, the words coming out of her mouth for the very first time in her life. They felt sticky and foreign on her tongue. It wasn't right. It wasn't her.
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His heart ached just hearing it.
"Hey, pumpkin," Roger said, softly. He brought their joined hands up to kiss the back of hers. "It's okay to be scared sometimes. But you are Lavender Brown. You look fear in the face and roll your eyes."
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Slowly, Lavender moved closer to him.
"I just need a little bit of time. I'll bounce back," she sounded a little more confident now. Roger had a way of doing that, building her up ever since they were little. "And right now being inside with you isn't so bad, yeah?"
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"Of course you will." Roger didn't doubt her for a second. "I'd say being inside together could beat anything out there anyway," he agreed. Roger couldn't stop himself from leaning in to press light, teasing kisses to her lips.
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"The cake should be ready to ice now," she told him, noses barely touching. Lavender pulled herself off the sofa, tugging at Roger to follow her back into the kitchen.
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