The Full Moon had just passed earlier in the week, and they were now on the downward slope toward a New cycle.  With the closing of the one and an opening of another, Eamonn was, as he always was during this time of the Moon, getting around to all his unfinished business.  Among all his other chores was a more furtive goal, one pragmatically disguised as the task of retrieving his missing jacket.  The sub-task involved the Witch who had made off with it, she'd told him her name was Kiana Ferris, Kia mostly, and Eamonn had the resources at his disposal to track her down.

In the fortnight since they'd met, he had been pondering her in his spare moments.  He'd pulled signs from the Tarot and scattered Runes while contemplating her.  She had made an impression on him, and their strangely dramatic, passionate introduction was hard to stop imagining.  Despite being fairly fit, Eamonn did not get around much.  He hadn't had very many lovers and did not meet women he was interested in very often.  He also did not believe in coincidences, and was betting that the crossing of their paths this Moon cycle was the part of someone's fate.

She was living alone in Muggle London, and she worked for the Werewolf Capture Unit.  She hadn't told him these things, and Eamonn had to remain conscious of that fact.  It could be considered strange behaviour to track down the stranger who kissed you because she was in need of an emergency decoy.  It could be considered stalker behaviour.  Especially when his underlying intention was to ask her out for a date.  Eamonn was self-conscious of this and other things, not well-versed in the art of courting others and hesitant in general to get involved.  At least he had the jacket as a sort of excuse for seeking her out.  Extending the offer for a warm meal could be a natural and harmless act.

He rapped at her door and tried to remind himself to just act natural.  She had his jacket, and he needed it back.  There was no reason to be terrified of what he was potentially allowing to happen by following up on this loose thread; none at all.

The week after the Full Moon was Kia's favorite time of the month. Considering the toughest nights of her life were during the Full Moon, and the weeks leading up to it were fraught with stress, it was only logical that afterward was a time to let go and enjoy being alive. As a creature who enjoyed the stability that habits brought, Kia usually spent these evenings with a luxurious bubble bath, a delicious meal and a good book. Tonight was no different.

Having just roused herself from the rose and strawberry scented bubbles, where she had nearly fallen asleep, Kia brushed and braided her hair before pulling on what she considered her 'lounging' clothes: A simple white boatneck tunic, which liked to slip off of one tanned shoulder in a display of rebellious asymmetry, and a pair of matching cotton pants, which did nothing. Then she padded down the hall, her bare toes curling gratefully into the thick rugs that dotted the cold wood floors, to the kitchen where her dinner waited for preparation. Turning on a small record player, the muggle kind, she softly mimicked the husky voice of that warbled out as she gathered her ingredients. She had just started to chop the vegetables when a knock sounded from the front door.

Thoth, who had been sleeping peacefully by fireplace, opened one pale blue eye and emitted a low, wary growl. "Hush." Kia soothed and he huffed at her, his eyes still locked on the door. Kia smiled softly at his obvious concern. Ever since she had moved out on her own, he had been diligently sleeping by the front door rather than her bed, out of the need to protect her from the creatures she came home smelling of. Thanks to the existence of Direwolves, she could hardly complain about a little extra protection.

In fact, she was a little concerned herself. Her friends and even her brother knew that she preferred to be alone after the full moon, so unless it was an emergency, they generally stayed away. If it were an emergency, the rapping would have been quite a bit more frenzied and there would have probably been some yelling as well. With this in mind, she tucked the knife against her arm, so that the blade brushed lightly against the skin in an almost reassuring way, and approached the door.

"Just a moment." She called out as she undid the dead bolt but left the chain. Knife held at the ready behind her back, she opened the door wide enough to peek out. "Yes... who is -- You!" She didn't intend her exclamation to sound so accusatory, as though she were upset to find Eamonn outside her door, but one could hardly blame her for it. It wasn't like she had told him her address. Shocked, she stared blankly at the handsome young man for a moment, her mind reeling at the fact that he was standing there, flesh and blood, and not an illusion.

He had not been the only one affected by that night. For a few weeks now, every time she touched her lips, be it with a spoon or lipgloss or her own tongue, she remembered that kiss. It shouldn't have affected her the way it did, considering it had initially been nothing more than a way to escape detection, but she couldn't deny the feelings the memory dredged up. But she had deemed those feelings forever lost when all of her attempts to locate him failed. No one at the club really knew who he was, if they had even noticed him (Which she hadn't thought was possible, but apparently some people were blind) and any digging she had managed to do at the Ministry gave her almost nothing to go on. All she had managed to learn was that he was a Ravenclaw alumni that was well-respected as an arithmancer in...well whatever circles arithmancers ran in, and had worked for Gringotts for a time before quitting short of three years ago. No one seemed to know where he lived or worked now, which might have concerned her except for the fact that Kia herself wouldn't have minded a little anonymity now and then. She had done it all under the pretext of returning his accidentally 'borrowed' jacket, but the truth was, she wanted to see him again. She want to be drawn in by those fathomless eyes and perhaps, even, caressed by the lips once again.

And here he was, those eyes boring into hers like they were absorbing her very soul, and all she could do was stand there dumbly. What seemed like hours were mere minutes before she realized that she hadn't invited him in. "... Uh... Where are my manners... Come in..." She said hastily, flushing slightly at how easily he had managed to catch her off guard, as she undid the chain and opened the door so he could enter. Thoth stood, eying Eamonn with a wary, tightlipped expression, before Kia held up her hand and said "Friend". With that, the large wolf dog grinned, his wide pink tongue curling out like a welcome mat as he trotted over to Eamonn for a sniff. "Don't mind him, he is well trained..." Kia smiled as she headed towards the kitchen. She wondered if he noted that she said 'well trained' rather than 'friendly'. Thoth could be friendly, on his own terms, but he could also be vicious. It was the wolf in him.

After returning the knife, she leaned against the doorway to the kitchen and watched him in silence for a moment before speaking "So...um... I'm assuming you are here for the jacket..." She hadn't forgotten about it. It was hanging neatly on the back of her closet door, taunting her every night as she fell asleep. "Unless..." She realized what she was about to do was out of character for her, but she couldn't stop herself from saying it "... Unless you would like to stay... for a bite to eat, I mean? I.. I was just about to cook something..." She trailed off here, feeling horribly awkward, and waited for him to turn her down.

Eamonn hesitantly leaned in toward the crack in the door.  It wasn't the most welcome of gestures she offered, but he couldn't exactly blame her for being shy.  He'd expected something of the sort, as a matter of course.  He'd automatically made himself a rather suspicious fellow by appearing here on her front stoop without an invitation or even directions.  He simpered quietly, waiting either for her next graceful offering or for the door to slam shut in his face.  Whatever happened, at least he could say to himself that he had tried to follow up on it, and had given whatever it was its fair chance.  Well, he waited, meeting her inquisitive gaze with honest eyes.

"Hi," he said, his tone harmless, feeling nosy as he looked in on her through the small crack in the door.  It felt like a long time, and he'd started to feel her pouring into him again by the time she decided to take down the barrier between them.

He smiled and waited for a more clearly expressed welcoming before he stepped inside.  The first thing he noticed was the wolf dog, surrounded by warm lighting and a plush carpet; her flat had a real feeling of homeliness, right away.  He felt judged, slightly, the moment he entered - with the dog at his heels coming to check him out and approve or disapprove as he saw fit from whatever ethereal signals he could dredge up.  Wolf dogs were excellent judges of character.  Eamonn respected them above other companions, and was immediately impressed with Kia's choice of familiar.  He knew dogs like this could be blunt and frankly dangerous if they sensed anything awry.  Their primary job was to protect their people, naturally. 

"Who's this, then?" asked Eamonn, giving the dog the greeting and interest he deserved; with all due respect, he was probably used to being the alpha in the house.  The first impressions seemed to be going more or less smoothly, so far.   

Eamonn looked at her, following in a few steps.  "Yes, my jacket," he said a bit stiffly, all business it would seem.  He nodded once in a show of formality.  Then, he caught her eye and she, once again, beat him to the punch - inviting him in before he could invite her out.  His brows lifted in intrigue. 

"Well," he said, pausing slightly, "If it wouldn't be any trouble, I would of course love to stay for that, or, you know, if you'd rather not have to cook for two, I could take us out for a meal any place you'd like.  Whichever you might prefer...."

Eamonn didn't want to put her out.  After all, he didn't know her well enough to know whether or not she even enjoyed cooking, or if maybe she was the type to feel indebted.  Whatever the case, his eyes brightened towards her.  She'd made it easier yet for the two of them to take the next step. 

Thoth, the consummate professional, did his job as protector and sniffed Eamonns hands and pants dutifully. Kia couldn’t help but smile as he seemed to approve of the young man. She wondered if Ceridwen would also give her stamp of Approval. Contrary to Eamonns belief, Thoth wasn’t the alpha in the household, Ceri was. The cantankerous 13 year old feline ruled their home with an iron paw, when she wasn’t asleep that is. Which is where Kia assumed she was now. She knew that the old girl would make her appearance eventually, since her dinner time was near, so she turned her attention back to Eamonn, still apprehensive despite the smile.

"Well, If it wouldn't be any trouble, I would of course love to stay for that, or, you know, if you'd rather not have to cook for two, I could take us out for a meal any place you'd like.  Whichever you might prefer...."

When his clumsily accepted her offer, Kias small smile grew into a rarely seen grin, a wide crescent of white teeth flashing out from full lips, and she barely managed to keep from clapping with joy. Though it was true that, by nature, she was a loner when shoved into the public, Kia felt comfortable in her own home. The true Kia, the soft hearted and affectionate girl, felt free to emerge when she was safe within her walls. Eamonn may not have known it, but he was currently privy to a rare scene that some might rank up there with a clear shot of Nessy.   

“No!” Kia said with a little more force then intended. “I …I mean, I would lo—prefer to cook, if that is okay with you…” She stumbled a little bit, realizing using the word ‘love’ right now might seem a bit… creepy. She felt weird enough having kept his jacket hanging out in plain view, like some obsessed fan girl and she didn’t want to chase him off by freaking him out with the L word.

The truth was that she enjoyed nothing more than cooking for those she cared about. Her mother taught her that you should put real love into your cooking so that when the person ate it, they knew you cared enough to give them a part of you. Not that she intended to tell Eamonn that is how she felt, because, well… again it was a bit weird, but she was pleased with having the chance to show him.

Her outburst left her feeling very shy again, like she had just made a fool of herself, she tugged at the braid resting over her shoulder nervously, saying “Um.. I was going to make Potato and leek soup… Is that something you like? I can make something else if not…”

Despite every effort to resist Irish stereotypes, potatoes were one of Eamonn's favorite foods in the world.  There was something grounding to them, and with all of his very ethereal energy spinning him up into the stars, Eamonn loved the feeling of being grounded to the Earth.  Thinking of the dish flashed him back to a stanza in the Poetic Eddas he'd been reading when he met Kia:

Soon Bur’s sons heaved up the earth, it went.
They shaped Midgard, the earth. The sun
shone from the south on the stones of the stead,
and green leeks grew from the ground.

As a scholar, Eamonn knew that leeks were one of the foods considered to be a good omen in the Jewish tradition of Rosh HaShana; specifically they were the third food listed in the Gemora for the tractate of Kerisus, which symbolized the destruction of one's enemies.  The warding off of an ill-omen and the nourishment of the Earth's sense of groundedness were the result of her decision, and the meal, perhaps the first of several that they might be destined to share together, would contain this blessing.  He couldn't help but be compelled by the possibility inherent in such a path. 

He knew home-cooked food had something tangibly heart-felt in it, as well.  It had been a long while since he'd eaten something made so wholesomely as he assumed her soup could be.  The food from Kronos was, of course, lavish and rich, and likely made with a sense of devotion by the House Elves, though Eamonn could sense that this would be different.

"Yes," he said eagerly.  "That sounds delicious, Kia; I would love that.  Thank you."  He left the dog's side, and took a few steps further into her kitchen, feeling more at ease through her welcoming grin.  She was clearly a warm-hearted person, he considered, eyeing his surroundings more that he was starting to feel comfortable and welcomed here.  It was a small space, quaint, but warm and soft. 

"I can help if you'd like," he said, not a very good cook himself but not a bad helper; he grew up helping his ma in the kitchen because they weren't to rely on magic in the house when they could do it 'the old fashioned way'.  It just took more hands in place of a wand was all. 

"Yes, That sounds delicious, Kia; I would love that.  Thank you."

See, he didn’t have any issue saying the L-word, though its effect on her stomach and heart should be noted. If he kept being so charming, she was positive she would have a heart-attack. Turning back to the cutting board, Kia fought the blush that followed, murmuring shyly “You’re welcome…”

"I can help if you'd like,"

“Um.. Sure…” Kia said a tad uncertainly. This could pose a problem. To start with, Kia hadn’t shared her kitchen with another since her mother died and was quite possessive of it normally. Add to that the fact that him just looking at her made her stomach do backflips and her hands tremble, and she found herself facing a daunting problem. However, one look at the earnest smile on his face and Kia felt compelled to hand him a bowl of potatoes and a peeler. Merlin help her if he ever used the ‘puppy-dog eyes’ on her. She might melt and never return.

“H..Here… Peel these and dice them, please” She said shyly, before quickly turning back to her slicing, which she focused on with a little too much enthusiasm. After a few minutes, a surprisingly comfortable silence fell between them as they worked, as though this was natural. Kia even relaxed enough to begin to hum along to the music again, this time a ballad by Natalie King Cole. Any minute now, she would start singing if she wasn’t careful.

“Me~er?” Luckily for Kia, Ceridwen decided to finally make her appearance. The huge Maine-coon and Kneazle mix stretched languidly in the doorway, her scrunched up face nearly disappearing behind a huge yawn consisting mostly of sharp, very white teeth. She had been a tiny ball of fur when Kia was given her nearly 13 years ago, as a familiar to take to school, now she was a giant ball of fur bordering on 9 kilograms[1]. Kia stopped slicing to observe Ceri’s reaction to Eamonn. The gigantic feline started for her bowl but stopped halfway when she realized there was a new body in the room. Turning, she eyed him with luminous golden eyes, studying him. Kneazles, like wolves, were instinctive judges of character. If Ceridwen approved of Eamonn, Kia should have no reason to fear him.

Ceri strolled over to Eamonn slowly, sizing him up, before sniffing him thoughtfully. Perhaps it was her old age or perhaps she just enjoyed unnerving people, but she took her sweet time smelling his pant leg. Kia was beginning to worry a little, honestly. As if sensing her owners concern, the cat stopped her inspection and butted her head against him in her way of saying ‘Yep, this one is okay.’

“Wow… Both Thoth and Ceridwen like you, I guess I should have no worries…” She chuckled. Then Ceridwen begin to rub against Eamonns legs and Kia’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Normally the old queen would made her judgment and moved on, but not this time. “Oh… My… Looks like she might be out to steal you from me..”

The moment the words left Kia’s mouth, she realized what she said and her face flushed an uncanny shade of red, not unlike a ripe tomato. Turning hastily back to the cutting board, she added hastily “I…I mean… Not that there’s anything to steal. That would be presumptuous of me… It’s not like you and I are... you know, toget—Ow!” In her haste to correct herself, Kia had stopped being cautious with her knife strokes and found the blade knicking into the top of her finger.

It wasn’t deep by any means, but it had come as a shock considering Kia normally had superb knife skills. Pulling back, lest she bloody the food, Kia held the wounded finger up while pouring the veggies into a colander so she could wash them, muttering to herself “Good going there Kia, one foot in your mouth and now a sliced finger, what’s next on the humiliation agenda?”
 

1.	About 20 pounds

Eamonn stepped in slightly so that he was actually in the kitchen with her, and stood feeling awkward for a moment before she peeked back at him and then put a bowl of potatoes and a skinner down next to him on the counter, politely doling out her instructions for him.  For the briefest of moments, Eamonn stood still, staring down at the simple tool.  It did remind him of making dinners with his ma.  There were probably many Wizards who had never even seen a peeler before.  He blinked, feeling surprisingly warmed through by the thought, and very naturally went about his task, peeling the potato skins into the sink.  It was almost like a meditation.  Kia started humming when he was on about the fourth potato.  He listened to her, eyes still trained on the task before him, a task which he executed with slow deliberation, a graceful fluidity to his movements.

He was starting to wash the potatoes one by one and place them on the cutting board that was laid out beside the sink, when an enormous kneazle walked into the room and became very interested in his pant leg.  Eamonn paused, turning the faucet off and standing there with a dripping wet potato held over the sink.  Kia seemed keenly interested in what the cat's judgment would be; there was no mistaking it was a kneazle hybrid, and the intrepid critters had an infamous knack for sniffing out a dishonest man.  He rolled through the possibilities in his mind.  He must have smelled mostly of frankincense and cedar, perhaps a bit of the sage and sweetgrass smoke he bathed in this morning during his normal rituals.  This should feasibly make a good impression, he thought, since he was a spiritual, reflective man who took time to ward off omens from his person.  Eamonn grew nervous, though, the longer it went on, wondering if the kneazle feline would sense something of Kronos through him.  It nearly felt like he was before Maat himself, his soul being measured on the eternal scales against a feather to see if he was still a moral being.  Had years of service to a murdering madman somehow tarnished his spirit?  Luckily for him, he seemed to pass the kneazle's test.  The tension in the room was cut as the kneazle's head bumped up against him affectionately, and Eamonn let out a nervous, startled laugh.

He looked to Kia, the surprise evident on his face.  He was about to make some odd comment on her interesting choice of pets, when she told him he was clearly in favour with her familiars, and the feline continued making friends with him.   He grinned.  "Well that's a relief," he admitted.  "I guess I'm on the right path then.  Huh."  The kneazle was now rubbing against his legs so enthusiastically that it was almost rough play.  Kia said what she said then started stumbling over her words, endearingly bashful and, it would seem, quite clearly as intrigued by him romantically as he was of her.  And, incredibly shy.  Not exactly knowing how to comfort her, a perfect stranger, Eamonn hung back and knit his brow in consternation, watching her with a concerned expression, though he still smiled.  She was so odd, he thought.  If he wasn't so charmed by it all he might have worried about how fast their ... they ... well.  He didn't exactly know what this was. 

"Oh," he blurted, jumping in surprise and quickly hurrying to her side to check the wound, wet potato left behind on the cutting board, where it rolled off onto the counter.  He didn't have time to see if he'd startled the cat by this, but at least he knew his legs weren't currently under attack.  His attention was fully focused on Kia.  It didn't appear to be a serious wound, but he felt somehow responsible for it.  He gracefully ignored her self-admonishing comment.

"Here," he said.  "Run it under the water."  Eamonn held his arm out as if to brace her from behind, but didn't actually touch his arm to her back.  He wanted to help her by cleaning out the wound and using a simple Vulnera Sanentur spell to mend it.  He ran cold water in the sink and extracted his long, smooth apricot wand in preparation.

"I, um, I like you, too," he said kindly with a bit of a smile as he ran the tap.

The wound was nothing. Considering her upbringing and her current career choice, a knick on the finger was hardly even a blip on her radar. To be totally honest, it had surprised her more than anything. Yet somehow the look on Eamonn's face as he rushed to her aid made it nearly impossible for her to just wrap it up and ignore it like she might have done alone.

"Here, Run it under the water."

Normally, at this point, she would have pushed him away and informed him that she was capable of caring for herself, but she found it hard to just disregard his concern like that. “Really… there is no need for this…” She interjected weakly instead, not really putting up much of a fight. She just wasn't used to someone taking care of her, so she found herself a bit dumbfounded as he wrapped his arm around her, lead her to the sink and pulled out his wand. She watched in respectful silence as he healed the wound, unprepared for what he said next.

"I, um, I like you, too,"

“Y… You do?” She said, her head jerking up towards him, her eyes wide with cautious hope. Then she quickly looked away, clearly incredulous of this claim. She had heard this from guys before, but usually it was proven to be either a joke or only certain ‘parts’ of her that they liked. “I mean… You aren’t just saying that because you feel bad about me making a fool of myself, right?” She added before finally looking up to meet his eyes. In this light, his eyes were not the same fathomless black they were before but a rather warm hazel. Still captivating but gentler and… trustworthy.

Kia was suddenly aware of how close they were and how wonderful he smelled. It was a rich, earthy smell like… like a still smoldering fire of cedar and herbs. She recognized it as the same scent that hung around his jacket, a scent she was beginning to grow quite fond of in fact. This, combined with the warmth emanating from his embrace, left her feeling a bit dizzy, perhaps even confused. Whatever it was that he was doing to her, it was responsible for what came next.

“I… I know this is, um, a – weird—question considering how we met, but…” She said slowly, her voice low and soft as her eyes locked onto his, baring her soul in a way that few, if any, had ever seen. “… Can I kiss you?”

Eamonn didn't often find himself in the role of Protector, but he usually did give more of himself than was necessary.  He fixed problems eagerly; in this case he was seeking to solve her discomfort.  The wound was more of a symptom than a dire emergency itself, something that he could attend to in order to somehow come to her aid and set things back on the right course.  He embraced the silence with a feeling of reverence as he said the incantation for the spell.  "Vulnera Sanentur," he said carefully.  He couldn't help feeling as though, with this small bit of magic, a part of him had gone into her to mend the damaged cells in her finger.  He was quiet a moment as he looked pensively at the spot that was now well without having left a mark, and his eyes slowly rose to meet hers. 

Her gaze was puzzling, full of hope and fear and shielded tenderness.  Eamonn allowed himself to be present with this, not looking away from her.  He let his silence answer for him, smiling subtly as he drank in her eyes and small mannerisms from a short distance, his hand actually lowering to very lightly embrace her near the shoulder blades.  His heart beat like the quick thundering of horses' hooves.  A small part of him was hesitant and absolutely terrified of this pursuit; there were too many questions about how he could possibly manage to incorporate romance with an innocent Witch into his life when he was so settled into an alternative existence.  But somehow he was seduced into throwing caution to the wind.  He was following the most natural of courses, and it was taking him down the only road he wanted to go down.

Again, he noted to himself, he could be assured things would continue being intense around Kiana Ferris.

"I only wanted you to know," he said lingeringly, silenced by the vibrancy of her eyes and the spell-bound fervor behind her gaze.  For a moment they stared into each other's eyes and, when after she'd voiced her long-winded request to kiss him, Eamonn felt light-headed enough to actually faint.  Instead, he gave the subtlest of one-off nods, eyes traveling over her face nervously before he gently leaned in toward her.  In contrast to the kiss that they'd had upon first meeting, before Eamonn had even had the chance to say his first words to her, this kiss was slow like molasses.  It was simple, soft, and heart-warming.  He closed his eyes for it, and allowed all of himself to be absorbed into it.  He had been thinking of her lips more often than he should have since they'd met.  Now they were so close that he thought he could actually feel her spirit pulsing into his.

The kiss came to a close, but Eamonn and Kia lingered there in the midst of it; he pressed his forehead against hers as they both, in their own time, became more present in the room.  Then he smiled widely and laughed quietly to dispel some of his nerves, sort of his way of saying, 'Wow'.  His eyes concentrated on her lips, then her eyes, and he noticed they were even closer now than they had been before; she was legitimately in his embrace. 

"Me~er...," came the interjection from the kneazle, who sat assertively in front of them as if reminding them it was time to feed kitty.

At first the kiss was as light as air, just... two pairs of lips brushing against each other. Kias quavered as both pleasure and a fair bit of fear coursed through her. She longed for this connection, this closeness, and reveled in the warmth it brought, but at the same time, she was a jumble of insecurities. What if her breath was wonky... or she sneezed... Oh merlin, what if he suddenly decided he was gay? Her mind reeled with these thoughts and she found herself placing her hands lightly against his chest, from both the unconscious need to touch him, to maintain a physical connection, but also to push him away at a moments notice.

Then his eyes closed, leaving her to marvel at the length of his lashes, and his lips pressed against hers a bit more firmly. Instantly, the fears vanished, just like that. Her own eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted, capturing his bottom lip between them gently. She could feel his heart pounding against her hands, as hard and fast enough as hers was, and she realized that she wasn't the only one who was perhaps a bit scared of falling too deeply into this whirlwind romance. He was surely letting down guards and fears to embrace her like this and Kia felt her own walls starting to crumble.

His kiss was slow... sweet... and not full of some perverse expectation of more, but rather a longing for there to be a deeper bond. She found herself melting into it and one hand left its perch on his chest to reach up and touch his cheek, her fingers brushing lightly over the stubble that dotted his jawline. She was tempted to slid her fingers into his hair, but resisted, knowing that it was just too soon. This kiss was, technically, their first and she didn't want to make it into some prelude to sex. She wanted it to be exactly what it was: honest and soulbaring.

When the kiss ended, he laughed, not out of derision but pleasure, and Kia just breathed, letting out a long, soft sigh, as her forehead rested against his. She could feel the warmth of his breath and knew his lips were only a couple inches away, and she felt the need... the longing to capture them again. When her eyes finally blinked open, they found themselves staring deeply into his. He was so close... it would be so easy to just...

"Me~er"

Immediately, Ceridwen's bossy indignation brought Kia back to earth and she turned her head away from him, letting out a breathy laugh in relief. "I.. I guess she is trying to tell me something, eh?" She smiled, glancing up at him out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze lingered on his lips for a moment, as if debating, before she gently pulled away, her hands trailing down his chest desperately trying not to sever connection. "I should probably do that and then get back to the soup, huh?..." She sighed as she bent down to retrieve the fallen potato. Rinsing it under the still running tap, she smiled at him and added "I don't need any more help, if you would like to relax in the lounge... I don't have a telly, but there might be a few books that will interest you..." She felt woefully unprepared, but then, he had showed up unannounced, so he would have to make do.

Eamonn chuckled airily as their attention turned toward the indignant feline, sitting pointedly before them with a bored expression on her face.  He felt how lingeringly Kia's fingers trailed off his chest, and he felt buzzed on the closeness they'd shared.  She was turning back toward dinner and realizing how much more productive she would be with him out of the kitchen, and Eamonn couldn't argue to the contrary.  It had been a mostly pleasant revelation that theirs was a budding romance, but if they were going to eat supper they'd better set their intentions toward it. 

He was actually quite glad to hear that there was no telly and 'only' books for his perusal.  Eamonn was a bookworm, to put it lightly, and he also would always jump at the chance to use bibliomancy to gain a deeper impression of a new person in his life.  He smiled lightly and gave a subtle nod to show his acceptance of her offer as he turned away.

"That's fine," he said.  "I'll be over here then; just say so if you do need me.  No need to hurry on my account."  He had made sure to keep his evening free after his plans to visit Kia Ferris at her home.  From the manner in which they'd become acquainted he could only guess there may be unforeseen variables at play.

He strolled into her living room and went first toward her mantle, where several framed family photographs moved around more or less gayly among stout candles.  Studying them, Eamonn could see a progression that was sensible enough for him to say with a fair bit of confidence that the little, nappy haired girl was Kiana aging over the years with her parents and what would appear to be a younger brother.  The mother, in her own frame surrounded by several candle stubs, stared regally out towards him, her lips held sternly flat; he felt drawn in by the crimson robes she wore, they were distinctive and yet must have belonged to a different nation.  He was, despite the differences, quite startled by the realization that she was some type of an Auror.  On closer inspection and with the furrowing of his brow he could see the insignia of the American Ministry of Magic on her crisp, modern robes.  Eamonn's musing over the photographs became less idle and more instinctively defensive.  He looked down the line at the progression, purposely looking for her mother's dark figure, and not finding it.

The later pictures seemed focused around who he assumed were her father and brother.  The last photographs showed a more or less rural setting and her and her father beaming before the scales of an enormous dragon.  Eamonn spent a moment considering these before he moved toward her bookshelf and shook off some of the more intense vibrations that he'd been gathering off her mantle.

He picked a book off the shelf and threw it open in his hands to a random page with his eyes closed.  Placing his index finger on a random passage, he opened his eyes and read:

"When someone you love dies, and you're not expecting it, you don't lose her all at once; you lose her in pieces over a long time -- the way the mail stops coming, and her scent fades from the pillows and even from the clothes in her closet and drawers. Gradually, you accumulate the parts of her that are gone. Just when the day comes -- when there's a particular missing part that overwhelms you with the feeling that she's gone, forever -- there comes another day, and another specifically missing part."[1]

Eamonn frowned at the passage, closed the book, placed it back upon the shelf, and went looking for another.

1.	A Prayer for Owen Meany, by John Irving

"That's fine, I'll be over here then; just say so if you do need me.  No need to hurry on my account."

Still a bit light-headed from the kiss, Kia just nodded and focused intently on chopping up the remaining potato. However, when she heard him start towards the lounge, she couldn’t help but turn her head just enough to peek at his retreating form. Sucking in her bottom lip and chewing on it thoughtfully, her pale eyes traced over him, studying him… and admiring him.  Starting at his head of dark curls that fell just to the nape of his neck, Kia’s eyes quickly traced down over his shoulders. They weren’t overtly broad, but they seem sturdy and if the rest of him was as well toned as the way his chest had felt earlier, she had a feeling that under that black leather jacket of his was a strong back and firm arms. The thought of being held in those arms once more made her smile coyly, though this thought was quickly replaced by a different one as her eyes continued downwards. Apparently his arms weren’t the only firm part on him...

“Oh my god…” She mouthed to herself as her head whipped back around before he could catch her ogling. Was I just checking out his butt? I was, wasn’t I? She asked herself, knowing full well that she had been indeed admiring his ‘lower attributes’. Shocked at this behavior, which normally wasn’t one she partook in, Kia switched between wanting to fan herself and wanting to slap some sense into herself.  Her hands went on auto-pilot, thanks to the muscle-memories from years of cooking, as her mind whirled around in a jumbled mess.

What's wrong with me? First I doll myself up to go to a club alone, which I hate,  but then I snog some random guy there and when he shows up at my door, I invite him in for dinner like it’s nothing…I don’t know anything about him! I mean, I know his name… and that he has a cute butt…. And amazing lips... and eyes... God, I could drown in those eyes the way he looks at me... not to mention the way they crinkle up when he smiles... OH and that smile, makes me hot just think--Jesus... what is wrong with me. Wait... no no no, nothing is wrong with me. This is a normal and I'm normal and Dammit, if I want to stare, I going to!

Anyone watching this unspoken argument would have found the scene quite amusing, if not a bit bewildering. When she was berating herself for being so careless, her movements were hard, fast and aggressive, pushing the leeks and onions around the pan roughly. But when she begin to get whimsical, her movements became soft and almost lackadaisical as she gave into her imagination, her lips curling into a pleased smile as she thought about their embrace earlier. She alternated between these two for several minutes before she seemed to come to an agreement with herself. Nodding firmly, she snapped back to attention and realized that while lost in her thoughts, she had almost burnt the leeks.

Quickly pulling the pan off of the burner, Kia took a moment to breath and gather up her thoughts.  Leaning against the stove, she rubbed her temples and sighed. The truth was, she was a bit scared. Not of him, per say. He had been nothing but gentle with her, and Thoth and Ceridwen, two animals bred for their ability to sense danger and ill intentions, seemed to adore him. But she was scared. She was a very private person who found it incredibly difficult to open up to others and inviting someone into her home, her sanctuary, was almost unheard of until she had known them for a while. What made Eamonn so different? What was it about the quiet Irishman that made her walls crumble so effortlessly?  Despite the fact that Kia didn’t believe in destiny, since that meant believing that her mother was stolen away from her for a reason aside from the universe being an outright bastard, she couldn’t help but feel compelled to trust him. It was like the oceans drawn by the pull of the moon, it was a force of nature and she knew that she should let go of her fears and allow nature to guide her for once.

Though this thought hardly erased her fears, it dulled them somewhat, and Kia was able to focus back on the soup. He was here now and she had invited him to have a nice dinner with her, and she wanted to make good on her promise. Secretly though, she also wanted him to see something more to her than her outward appearance, something more meaningful like her kindness, intelligence and abilities. Though she didn’t think she could show him all of those in a bowl of soup, she could damn well try. With this renewed hope in mind, she set about making the best damn soup she could.

About 10-15 minutes later

The soup was bubbling merrily away now, filling the house with the earthy and mouthwatering smell of potatoes, and Kia had just made a pot of tea. Balancing the tea and some mugs on a tray, she stood for a moment at the doorway to the kitchen, trying to get up the nerves to approach him again. Breathing in deeply, she put on a friendly albeit small smile and stepped into the living room. “The soup will be ready in about thirty minutes… Tea?” She said, her voice a tad too bright, as she sat the tray down on the coffee table. Her gaze found his for a moment before she averted her eyes bashfully, her heart pounding against her chest like a wave caught in the pull of the moon.

Eamonn stood, hovering meaningfully over a little book with his brow furrowed.  The inscription that his bibliomancer's finger had landed on said:

"Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that --"[1]

He broke off from the text mid-sentence to peer back as Kia came in from the kitchen carrying a tray.  He made an awkward sound of surprise and nearly threw the book in the air by fumbling with it.  Caught red handed reading about love so soon!  He'd only been trying to peer a bit further into their little shared situation that was so far a curiosity, and perhaps a bit further into her as well.  The messages seemed rather straight-forward in their delivery, which either meant that she was somehow a very blunt person or that the oracles were pointing them in the right directions.  He supposed he'd never see to the end of the sentence to figure out what love was, however.  He snapped it shut and tucked the book back into its place on the shelf without a second thought, not keen on her discovery of the passage he'd been eyeing. 

"Oh yeah, I'll have a cup," he said brightly.  "That's great."  Eamonn turned and slightly paused, looking timidly toward her.  Their eyes locked and she turned her gaze away from him quickly, her attention vaguely set on the coffee table and furniture as though she was readying her mind for their next encounter.  A bit tentative and overwhelmed himself, Eamonn peeled off his overly warm leather jacket as inconspicuously as he could and draped it over the arm of her love seat.  After a moment, lingering out of sheer anxiety, he finally moved forward and lowered himself onto the seat beside his black jacket.  He sat at an angle that safely secured the whole love seat for himself, so as to not create an expectation that she join him there; Eamonn was a guarded man and if he could help to slow down their passions, he would do so.  Still, he made himself comfortable as he sort of lounged back on her love seat.  He allowed himself to sink into the cushions in a way that felt reassuring, and he looked plainly over at her.

Eamonn didn't make a move toward the tea in case it hadn't finished steeping.  It smelled so nice with the soup on to cook, the leeks and potatoes were heavenly good, and earthy.  She must have liked to cook, though he didn't think she must have entertained very often.  Her home, though kept very clean, had the feeling of a warm hermitage, a safe nook of one's own.  There were several green, thriving plants in the small room, which added to the atmosphere.

Eamonn was not a very good conversationalist, and as he sat thinking of what to say to her or of something to ask, he found himself coming up short and, as usual, favouring the silence.

1.	Captain Corelli's Mandolin by Louis de Berničres

"Oh yeah, I'll have a cup, That's great."

"Okay... One mug coming up..." She said, her voice cracking a little with nerves, before letting out a awkward, breathy laugh. She then quickly looked away, pursed her lips in exasperation and cleared her throat softly. God, she was socially inept. Taking a deep breath,  she focused on pouring them both a cup of tea, happy to do anything but just sit there and stare at him like a total loony. Not that she minded staring at him, not at all, but she knew that if she kept doing it, she wasn't going to be able to stop herself from jumping him, and Kia had never been and never wanted to be one of those type of girls. "Um... It's strawberry camomile tea. I hope you don't mind it being ... um.... different..." She pushed the tray towards him sheepishly "Here's the sugar and cream, if you want it..."

He had finally taken a seat himself, sitting in such a way that she either had to sit in the other chair, away from him, or sit on his lap. This left her confused and conflicted. If he was trying to get her to end up in his lap, than she had grossly misjudged him, but if he was trying to keep her at bay, she was caught between being hurt that he didn't want to sit near her and relieved that he wasn't putting her in an awkward position. So she waffled pathetically between the two before finally taking the armchair, which actually was her favorite piece of furniture in the house, so she wasn't too put out. Tucking her legs under her, she settled back into the warm, well worn cushions and held her mug of tea like a shield. She sipped it, winced and then blew on it softly, all while watching him out of the corner of her eyes.

The silence gave her a few minutes to clear her head and think about a few things, but mostly Eamonn. He was an endearingly enigmatic man whose very presence made her insides do wonderfully weird things. He made her heart pound, her skin tingle and whipped the butterflies in her stomach into a frenzy. Just a kiss from him had left her weak in the knees. So, physically, all the signs her body was giving her was 'This is the one!', but that was the problem. All it was, thus far, was physical attraction. Their relationship, which she was sincerely beginning to hope this was, was moving so fast that she was left feeling dizzy. They had already kissed twice and she barely knew anything about him, and for her, that wasn't enough. She wanted more. Not everything, not right away, just... enough to know that she wasn't starting to fall for someone wrong for her.

Suddenly, she put her mug down on the table and clasped her hands in her lap. "Um... look..." She said suddenly, breaking the silence "I'm not... opposed to silence. In fact, I usually prefer it... but..." Her eyes peeked up at him as she spoke, studying his face for a reaction "... I like you. I mean, I want to like you...really badly, but I can't like someone without knowing them...at least a little" She looked away again, focusing on the mug. Her fingers traced the rim as she stumbled on "... I don't expect you to tell me anything deep or... personal... but maybe we should, I dunno... get to know each other?" She finally looked up at him, their eyes locking. If he looked deep enough into the icy depths, he would see how frightening this was for her, revealing anything of herself to another, and what it meant that she was doing it for him.

Eamonn reached forward to take the mug of tea that she'd poured for him.  She said it was strawberry chamomile, and apologized for it being... different.  He rolled one shoulder in a subtle gesture; he liked trying new things and it did sound good.  The chamomile would help to calm him down some, which was welcome for what a nervous Wizard Eamonn was.  He leaned right back into the seat, fingers wrapped around the warm mug.  They relaxed in the silence and Eamonn felt, again, the intuitive sense that he had found someone who was like him.  He never met people who he felt were like him.  But Kiana was resonating with him in a big way.

He quirked a brow in open curiosity as she suddenly spoke up, and listened patiently as she explained herself and proposed they work on getting to know each other, he assumed on a level of more tangible realities.  He looked into her eyes and felt a real sense that she was putting herself out on a limb as much as he was, and that they were really still on the same page.  It was incredible to watch her unfolding slowly into all the things he'd want the perfect person to be.

Eamonn nodded his agreement after a moment.  "I'm fond of that idea," he said.  "I guess I'll start us off."  He sat up slightly more, and thought a moment.  "I was in Ravenclaw House," he said, which was the easiest and perhaps most obvious thing in the world to reveal.  "I graduated in 1999, which makes me twenty-eight years old, and my path has always been primarily in the field of Arithmancy."  He paused, looking away in thought.  He wasn't sure what else to say about himself without it sounding overly professional; after all, describing himself almost always came about when he was selling his talents.  It wasn't usually for social reasons that he revealed information about himself.

But Eamonn was worried about sounding too dull to her.  There were so many things he could say that would just make him sound creepy, too, and he had to go with taking a leap of faith and trying to be fun for a change.  What did people want to know?  He could throw out trivial, fun facts if even they were a little bit more meaningful to him than they should be.  He always went and cared too much.  For instance:

"My favourite colour is blue," he said.  "But especially a dark midnight blue that's got that hint of deep purple in it, because I like that time of night when the sky has just that look to it.  I think it's that it feels a bit bitter and moody, but with some vibrant depth."  He'd had to pin it just so, and the second he'd finished talking he was left feeling pretentious and strange.  Having another go at it, he tagged on, "My patronus is a Lynx."

A Lynx that was always, almost visibly, round every corner in the world for him.  Eamonn brought the mug up to his lips and took a long sip of Kiana's strawberry chamomile tea, enjoying it.  "You know," he said, now sinking into a more comfortable sort of noticing, "the Lynx is said to be a keeper of secrets, lost treasures and mysteries.  I actually know how deep my connection to the animal goes, because aside from its life as my patronus, the Lynx is a bit of a guide for me... in some way... I mind her mysteries, follow her lead.  Do you know what I mean?"

Exposed, he lingered there in the open under her gaze.  Kiana Ferris was beautiful and intelligent, and he wanted to like her.  But he was a nervous man, and he had to stop the half second of (for once) excruciating silence with the somewhat awkward interjection of, "Oh and my wand is of apricot and phoenix feather, if that helps kick us off as well."  He cleared his throat and tried to smile, trying to sit comfortably with the scary nature of putting himself out on this ledge with her.  "And you," he offered.  "What are some of the things I can know about you, Kiana?"