It had been far too long since she’d seen Phillip. Every time she’d turned up at the hospital hut beforehand, she’d been turned away, left to her fears about how bad his injury really was that only worsened with each refusal. It had been unpleasant at best, and made her unpleasant, too worried to focus much on her classes and filled with frustration that Figaro had just walked away from everything without a scratch to show for it.

There was a lot that frustrated Alex about this… incident.

For one, she resented being forced to acknowledge her feelings like that. She preferred to have time to sort out her feelings, firstly to deny them, and when denial was no longer possible, to dismantle them to examine their components and analyse them. The validity of emotions wasn’t entirely logical, but it helped Alex deal with them when she couldn’t ignore them.

But she’d – well. She hadn’t handled the news that Phillip had been dragged to the hospital hut well, that was for certain. Poorly wasn’t really accurate either, not when abysmally was available, if a little melodramatic. She’d thought, since he’d survived the tournament task relatively unscathed, he would manage a class session, especially since she had specifically requested that Theo watch out for him, but as was evidenced by the time that she’d been spending loitering around the hospital hut recently, she’d been wrong.

She shouldn’t have taken her fear out on Theo, though. She still owed him an apology for that – one he would receive after she’d seen Phillip.

She paid only lip service to the warnings about keeping Phillip calm without really heeding them; Phillip was never calm and so the instruction was irrelevant. Finally given permission to see him, she found that she lacked the courage to run – although she knew that Phillip wouldn’t be on his death bed, which had been why she hadn’t been allowed to see him, in some ways not seeing him had been a relief because she’d had more time to deal with the emotional side of things. Instead, she walked.

Phillip looked terrible. Always pale, he looked even more so than usual, and Alex once again swore that if she ever had the opportunity to hex Figaro Sellaphix without fear of repercussion, or if the repercussions would be sufficiently minimal, then she would do so. Almost certainly more than once.

There was a chair next to the bed, but she ignored it in favour of the bed, facing towards Phillip with her hands clasped tightly in her lap. When she spoke, the words came out far more strained than intended, “you’re an idiot.” Hardly a touching reunion, “Are you alright? Not alright. Are – fuck. How are you?” Alex swallowed, trying to clear her throat of the weight of feelings that had settled there without luck, staring at Phillip, “You look crap.”

"You've got visitors" Phillip heard the muffled voice of the healer, as if through a really wicked trip. But, nay, it was sleep. And he felt like his knacker's been bashed in, and his entire body ached and his bloody legs. What the hell where they doing? Growin 'em back?! The pain killers were obviously demic, since he felt e'rything. He muttered something at the healer and tried to drag himself upwards in a sitting position, only managing to hiss loudly. "Bollocks!" he skriked, exhaling loudly as sharp pain traveled through his body, from his feet upwards.

He'd woken up for a few times in the last few days, repeatedly got told the story and explained what happened to him and why he was dicking 'round in the hut, but he was still groggy and not quite dicky mint on wha'ever went down in DADA. It was kind'a gobbins. He knew it was probably his own fault, or some'it, well, maybe with a helping hand from Pepper, but still he didn't blame the lad. What really chicken winged 'im tho, was the fact that he'd be stuck in this mardy bed for a month to come. Some'it 'bout chunks of muscles and blood vessels needing to grow themselves back. Ew.

It was the first visitor he was allowed yet, tho. Sure he'd gotten a howler from Lala, that knapper, two days after the thing (bloody hell knew how she found out), but nobody came to see 'im... But truth be told he wasn't mad fer company right now. Maybe one kite, there was one pretty li'l kite he'd like to see. But she'd 'ave his clemmies for earrings, he was dead sure.

And bloody hell, speak of the devil... There she was. His throat suddenly felt really dry, and even tho he was so bloody tired and in pain, he tried to smile for her. A bit guiltily. His eyes followed her as she sat on the bed, and he snorted softly. Of course, she wouldn't even consider the chair. He cringed a wee bit, as the weight on the bed jostled his leg, but it instantly went away as soon as her body heat seeped through the sheet covering his body. He nodded, with a serious expression at her statement. Yep, idjit, that was 'im.

"'S all pure mint" his eyes crinkled at the corners, as he smiled fondly at her next words, swallowing heavily through the not-quite lie. He really was proper okay. Now. He snorted, fondly rolling his eyes at her assessment. "And 'ere I thought ye're finally being nice to me" he said teasingly. He supposed he did look like crap. His mop of hair looked lifeless without product, his roots were showing and he hadn't seen his own face in a few days.

"It hurts like a dirty bitch, but tha' means the tissue's growing back" he shrugged, smiling bitter-sweetly. "'S okay, really" he scratched at the back of his head, eyes falling on her hand, snugly settled in her lap and swallowed a knot in his throat. "Ye're the first face I've seen, that isn't Nadge" he grinned, setting his hand next to his body, intentionally close to her, almost touching her leg. "I'm—Ugh, I'm glad, It's... you" he stuttered, raising his eyes to look at her meaningfully, his hand nervously coming to settle atop hers, almost shaking.

It was only because after the initial wince he hadn’t seemed concerned that she didn’t move to the chair. That, and because she was selfish enough not to want to move. “I’m being as nice as you deserve,” Alex said, trying to make it sound angry and failing. It probably didn’t help that she was smiling at him, on top of not responding to his ridiculous slang.

His admission that it hurt had her scowling, “Haven’t they given you anything to alleviate the pain?” She understood that they wouldn’t provide that for every injury, but she would have expected that for Phillip’s, which had resulted in solitary confinement for over a week, a ludicrous length of time, they would have given him something. Unless, of course, they had, and it simply wasn’t enough to completely remove the pain. She stayed silent, staring at his hand covering hers, before slowly turning it to face palm-upwards, thin fingers wrapping around his hand to hold it in place. It was easier to look at than his face, and gave her a measure of security that staring at him didn’t, allowing her to feel less exposed although she knew the change made little difference.

She was still smiling, “Me too. I wish you’d seen someone, but,” and there she stopped, unwilling to put her feelings into words. She was not going to confess that if someone else had seen Phillip before her, she would have been jealous of them. It didn’t help that she had only realised it when the words were about to come out, although she should have anticipated it, and she looked up at Phillip, wanting to gage his reaction.

He was choking a little, but before she was worried enough to offer assistance, the spluttering subsided, and he was smiling. Git. It was, perhaps if Alex was honest not surprisingly, mostly affectionate, and amused. “I’m still angry,” she said, this time sounding more like she meant it. It was in part the truth: she was angry, but not with Phillip. She was upset with Phillip, and a certain amount of that was frustration that he had been so stupid. But it was more than that – she resented that she was upset in the first place, that she’d felt so tetchy the past few days because she hadn’t seen Phillip and knew he was in a hospital bed.

“And you’re still an irresponsible idiot.” She was smiling as she spoke, her hand squeezing once, as if to say that she didn’t mind that much, excepting incidents where he almost lost his leg because of it.

It was her limit, she couldn’t talk about feelings for much longer without breaking down and she had no intention of doing that. Especially not in front of Phillip. She cleared her throat, “It’ll be nice to have you back in lessons, although it’s probably a good thing you weren’t around recently.” Definitely a good thing he hadn’t been present for charms, he probably would have caught on fire. So far as she knew, nobody had been injured seriously, at least not compared to Phillip’s injury. Perhaps an unfair comparison, but Alex wasn’t inclined to be fair.

He settled for nodding seriously at her words, only to shake his head li'l with a soft chuckle. He'd been a barmpot, and it wasn't like she'd ever gone outta 'er way to be nice with him. 'T was gubbins, this thing 'tween them, but he couldn't help look at her fondly, seeing how she was trying so hard to act like a scowler. Wasn't doing a sound job of it, anyway, but it was endearing.

At the mention of pain killers he groaned a little and sighed dramatically. "Nish. Mean... Di Luca's been brewing me some'it for me legs, and I'm on Dreamless Sleep, 'cause I'm telling you, wha'ever tha' woman's brewing for me, when I take it I feel like me legs are slowly cooking from the inside out. So they give it to me at night. There's some other restoratives and a mild pain killer, but I ain't mad fer it, as it dun do much and—" he explained a li'l unsteadily, when he felt her fingers wrapping around his hand, and his voice climbed Everest and then just went kaput. Dead. Muerto.

And then she went to on saying she be glad she was seeing him too, and he was  just deaking at her with big, gobbled eyes and spluttering mumbles, only to eventually choke on his own words and then he just went silent, as his kipper caught on flames. He pretty much felt like a plonker and about as useful as tits on a bull at the moment, so he settled for squeezing her hand a little and looking at the lovely shades of white of the hut.

"I'm but a lowly, mingey twat, feel free to punish me as ye see fit, yer Majesty" he finally responded with a shit-eating grin to her confession that she was angry, which thank you very much, mate, he had eyes, he could see that. And this was Alexandra 'Harpy' Carstairs, so if she was angry, he was pretty much like that poor sod up shit creek without a paddle. But was she angry at him, at Sellaphix or at the world in general? Alas, best let sleeping lions and all that shite...

"Yes, yes I am, m'lady. I'm the most bloody irresponsible wupding this side of the Atlantic" he declared most seriously, smiling uncertainly at the little squeeze she gave his hand. He was a daft apoth for worrying her if nothing else, but she should've expected tha' from him. Everyone should've, he just had no idea why Alex seemed to have forgotten momentarily who she was talking to. He supposed it was sort of lovely...

And then his gobber went and did wha' it did best, and with a sly smile he threw his head back a little and grinned brightly at her. "Miss me already, love?" he batted his eyelashes, like the little shite he was, only to end with a low little chuckle that soon faded into just a tiny hint of a smile. "Cause I 'ave" he swallowed tightly, looking straight in 'er eyes. "I—I missed you" he finally said shakily, dropping her hand a little, only to take it back and tangle their fingers together, looking from the joining of their hands, to her face with a worried li'l expression. Oh bloody hell, he just had to go and say it, didn't he? It was the potions. Surely.

Alex’s eyebrows lifted, “Phillip, although muggles have a bizarre combination of democratic parliament and constitutional monarchy, wizards are purely a democracy, and although you could argue that blood purity is equivalent to nobility, there are still no titles. But you’re still a mingey twat.” Her smile was almost pleasant, but there was still a measure of nervousness to it.

His agreement didn’t quite convey the seriousness of tone she would have liked, but it was Phillip, by his own admission the most irresponsible wupding – whatever that meant. She would look it up later, but she doubted that she would find anything, as although Phillip often used words she didn’t know the meaning of, the majority were slang and so didn’t feature in the dictionary. In this case, a shame, because if her assumptions about the meaning of wupding were correct, it was an appropriate word to use. But even taking into account that Phillip was Phillip, it was still a little worrying that he was able to take his own welfare with such levity, considering he had been confined to a hospital bed for several days, and was likely to remain there for several more.

Although she otherwise remained perfectly still, her smile stiffened as he stumbled through what he was saying, finally ending, "I—I missed you.” She – what did one say to that? It was not a confession of feelings, not in as many words, but the meaning was obvious, and she didn’t want it to be. “Of course,” she said, somewhat smugly – certainly with enough pride, and amusement, that any sentimentality that the moment might had held was gone, and her smile stiffened for a moment.

She suspected that she should feel guilty, on some level, and she almost did, but it wasn’t enough to offer that she’d missed him, too. Instead, she sought another topic of conversation – and what was easier than all of the events that Phillip had missed while ill? “Professor Di Luca misses you,” she said eventually, which was the most generous way of interpreting what the woman had been saying about Phillip’s absence. Although Theo was the gilded star of her class, the woman held something close to fondness for Phillip, even though she heavily disapproved of him as a person his talent for potions endeared him to her.

Not especially wanting to discuss school with him, she faltered – although there was so much that had passed he was unaware of, other than one more notable incident and her falling out with Theo, neither of which she wanted to discuss, the news was not really worthy of the name. “Rick sent me a howler,” she informed him, “which was fun.” It wasn’t that he’d sent a howler, which she didn’t care about, but the knowledge that other people had overheard some of the contents of the letter, before she’d exited the hall, was unpleasant.

That was without paying any attention to what he had written, which presented its own set of problems.
It was tempting to mention the calendar – but she hesitated, instead turning to a more comfortable topic, one that wouldn’t have any unwanted effects, “He sent me some cogs, too. Some of the ones I made.” Her lips pursed, the cogs he had sent had been some of the worst ones she’d produced and although she knew why they were not to a sufficiently high standard, the reminder of it was unpleasant, to say the least.

"I've nish idea what ye just said but the fact that ye just said mingey twat is pure mint" he said with an awe-struck face, grinning impossibly big. "Am not gonna count me blessings, 'till ye call Rick a cocknobber tho" he added, raising his eyebrows and smirking a little in dare. "And yer still me Majesty, Harpy." He smiled warmly and shrugged a little. She was a queen among peasants to be sure. Her attitude at least. He chuckled a li'l.

When she stiffened, even minutely, Phillip followed suit, the pressure in his fingers gone and ready to drop her hand immediately. It was her reply that had him relax a little, but just a little. It still stung a bit, so he smiled bitterly and nodded shortly. "Of course" he repeated, voice cracking just a little, just as he subtly pulled his hand back in his lap, looking longingly at hers for just a second. Blimey, he was well gone on 'er. He cleared his voice a second, shifting into a better position then plastered his usual stupid grin on his kite.

"Am sure she does" he said smugly, wagging his eyebrows. "With only that shufty minger of yers, she's sure to be" he scowled, not particularly wanting to be reminded of the existence of Theo Whitman at the moment. Or ye know... ever. It was shite enough he was always where Alex was. Today was a bit of a miracle, actually. But thank sweet baby Jesus Alex thought to give him at least this bit of peace and not bring the bloody payseg with her. When talk of Rick came he rolled his eyes a little. "He wrote me a letter. Got it this mor'. Fucker ate my muffins from CC" he hmph-ed a little, shaking his head.

"So what'd the howler say?" He smiled slyly, perfectly pleased with himself that he wasn't the one at the end of Rick's particular brand of charm for once. "Am sure the cogs are lovely" he declared to her rather unimpressed expression. Prolly not by Donovan's standards, but who the bloody hell ever met that cocknobber's standards? He looked absently behind, out the window for a moment and hummed under his breath for a second. "It's me last year at the shop" he said musingly, finally turning with a sad sort of expression to look at Alex. "Am going back just until I get me apprenticeship in order" he explained, playing with a loose thread in the sheet over his legs. "Wonder wha's he gonna do without me" he raised his eyes to look seriously at Alex. Or her.

It wasn't just his last year at Donovan's, it was also his last year at Hogwarts. And Alex still had one ahead of her. They'd have a bit of the summer together, while he was wrapping things up with Rick and then—then what? he'd  be doing his knapper in with the apprenticeship and finding a job at an apothecary or potion shop and Alex would be back at the castle. What the bloody hell was he gonna do?

She rolled her eyes, not bothering to contest the issue. She had no intention of doing such a thing, but she wasn’t going to say as much simply to spite Phillip, not if the idea that she might made him so obviously happy. He’d been in hospital for days without company, after all.

Although usually the mention of Theo brought, if not a smile to her face, a definite softening of features, this time, her expression froze. He and Phillip disliked each other, and more to the point, with her own relationship with Theo currently strained, she was even less inclined to talk to him than usual. Especially to Phillip. But the conversation moved on with minimal damage – only the casual insult that Phillip used to refer to him, which was getting off lightly.

The statement was unsurprising, Rick made a habit of gloating over eating her lemon cake, so stealing muffins meant for the wounded wasn’t a stretch of the imagination at all. But it was good Rick was writing to Phillip – by his own admission, he’d been bored, and at least Rick keeping in contact was something other than the tedium of waiting to heal. Of course, she could have done so – but it had seemed so pointless against the knowledge that he was a few minutes’ walk away. She was well aware that the excuse was feeble.

“About what you’d expect,” she shrugged, “mostly that I am supposed to make sure you don’t kill yourself, followed by a blatantly false claim that he doesn’t care. Although since there were a number of cogs, it could mean that he does, but he was saying that he doesn’t.” It was so irritating when people couldn’t even get what one would assume to be obvious phrases right.

She’d always known that Phillip would be leaving Hogwarts in a few short months, and she had known that he wouldn’t just stay working for Rick, but she’d hoped that he wouldn’t be leaving at – well, at the earliest opportunity. It was a stupid sentiment, of course, although Phillip was an employee he was in essence a menial labourer, and it wasn’t something he would want to spend his whole life doing, so who was she to begrudge him employment with better prospects? Unfortunately, the logic didn’t do much to improve her mood.

It was plain to see that Phillip wasn’t just referring to Rick. As ever where Phillip was involved, Alex had an answer, but was reluctant to share it. “He’ll miss being able to dock your pay, although I’m surprised you have any pay left to dock.” The smile that accompanied the words was half-hearted, and she drew a breath before she spoke again, “I can’t believe you’re abandoning me with him. It won’t be the same without you to,” she stopped, wondering what she could follow it with and drawing an unexpected blank. “It won’t be the same without you,” she said, which wasn’t precisely a confession – not in the way that I missed you was – but was still clear in its meaning. Clear enough, at least.

“You want to work at an apothecary, right?” she prompted. She already knew the answer – clearly – but it was a topic she felt comfortable with. The important part being, of course, that the subject wasn’t her. It helped that she wouldn’t have to feign interest, even if the topic was more familiar to her than her question implied, “do you know which one?”

"Aye" he snorted, raising an eyebrow. "I know a couple'o those that don't really care but actually care" he grinned like the tosser he was and gave a teasing wink to the Harpy. Pot, kettle, he would've liked to add, but tha'd be pushing his luck, botched legs or not. May the good lad above have mercy on the barmpot that hinted towards Alexandra Carstairs having a heart in front of her...

He laughed half-heartedly at her next comment, deaking at nothing in particular as his laughter died off. "There isn't any... Not really, but he gave me a roof over me head and a meal, when I had none... So , yarr, tha' was payment enough" he said, voice cracking a bit at the real gratitude in his tone. His gut wrenched and his heart stopped in his chest, eyes grown big as her words registered. Was–was that her way of... He cleared his throat and plastered a shit-eating grin on his mug. "Of course, it won't be the same. What, stuck with tha' minger all day?" he said in faux shock and hmph-ed. "Tha'd mither a boathorse till it dropt in t' cut" he nodded seriously and chuckled softly.

The change in direction, had the conversation feeling... too formal and his bravado was falling short. "Yeah and no... Not really, not yet. I'm going to look into some options during the Easter hols... See if anything comes up. If not, I guess I'll just 'ave to put me big boy pants and go ask Di Luca for a referral" he shivered, shaking his head in sheer horror.

He fell silent for a few moments, leaning sideways for his glass of water and emptying it in one go. He shuffled on the spot a few times, before his eyes finally found the courage to fixate on Alex again. "I'm gonna write..." he said, voice an octave higher than usual, and kite growing hot and blotched. "And we have the summer" he scratched awkwardly at the back of his head.

Phillip took a big breath and in one exhale decided to just... go all in. "I'll be waiting, ye know... Just—if you—I'm—I l—Bobbins!" his nostrils flared and he shut his mouth angrily. "I'ma wait" he eventually managed, forcing a tight little smile.

“I have no idea what that means,” she informed him, voice prim with disapproval for his terrible use of the English language. It was not entirely true – she could infer from context, and prior knowledge of his slang, what he meant, but she wasn’t going to encourage him. “But I’ll be fine. Rick isn’t completely heartless, just possessed of a sadistic disposition. And it won’t be as fun. Without you.” The sentence was jolting, words seemingly dragged out of her mouth against their will.

She would deny it, but her smile at Phillip’s obvious dislike of the Potions teacher (for good reason, as she seemed to loathe children Alex had no idea what on earth had made her decide to become a teacher of all things) was fond. “Heaven forbid,” she agreed. But Professor di Luca did seem to hate Phillip slightly less than the rest of her class, so she would probably give him one.

He was preparing to say something, that much was obvious, and Alex tried to brace herself, difficult as she didn’t know what she was bracing against. It was supposed to be consoling, she assumed, but instead it was the opposite – the summer was long, but Alex would be working at Rick’s, and Phillip would not, and they wouldn’t see each other, and letters were no substitute for human presence. “I’ll write too,” she promised instead.

It was not the – they were teenagers, for Merlin’s sake, what on earth was wrong with Phillip? He was a loon with no concern for his own safety, and she was emotionally guarded and deliberately obtuse. Doing something like that for someone who steadfastly refused to admit to feeling anything for you was stupid. She didn’t tell him that, though, because idiotic and moronic though it might be, there was something brave about it too, exposing yourself and putting yourself in a position of vulnerability.

Where dwell the brave at heart, etc.

But it was still stupid.

“You’re a moron,” she said eventually, her eyes lifting from the bloodless joints of her fingers to stare at Phillip, to assure him of the sincerity of her statement. “And… in the interim? What are we supposed to do then?” The question came out accusatory, and she bit her lip, swallowing her words, then biting the inside of her cheeks. She would not. “Wait then, too? Or pretend that it’s not going to make everything worse come September?” She didn’t want to wait. If it was a case of regret, she would rather do something now and regret it come September, assuming that it lasted that long.

Why on earth were they thinking about waiting more than half a year from now?

Again, he wanted to say that she wasn' so different from that minger Donovan. There was a lot tha' could be said about Donovan's and the levels of sadism surrounding the shop, but his words got stuck in his throat when she... She actually—She just. He smiled, completely ladged, kite feeling like it was on fire and let his head fall down a little, just so he could hide a little lopsided smile. His eyes looked up at her then, his eyebrows shooting up in question and it was everything he could do to hide his moronic smugness at the fact that she'd actually miss him.

The moment was gone too soon, as talk of Di Luca had any properly functioning man wither away into the vast darkness of nothingness. He merely gulped, nodding his approval at her words. He hoped he'd at least manage to land a job on Diagon. So he could... visit Donovan's. For Runt, obviously. Lying to himself - he was madferit. His kipper spontaneously combusted when she offered to write back, and for a second he panicked that she didn't... ye know, get his meaning. She should know better, they were both of the emotionally constipated variety... Except Phillip was a mild case, while Alex was chronic and terminal. He coughed loudly, randomly thinking he ought to be getting some scran by now and settled for merely grinning at Alex.

Ye gods, what if she hadn't gotten his... thing... with the writing... and the waiting. It was a confession for Crowley's sake! What? It was. Her next words had him turning to her with a completely scandalized face. I mean, yeah he was a moron, but she usually went for idiot, when calling it to his face. This was—but he had no time to express his utter shock because he couldn't breathe and his hands were clutching at the sheet like it was a lifeline, because had she just—? Oh sweet baby Christ, she did. And, jesus, she was pissed. Oh God. Was he hyperventilating? He might as well... He felt like some tonfuck scowler had sat on his chest.

What was he supposed to minging say? That he didn't wanna trap her? That she could do better and the wait provided her with the opportunity to do just that? That he was scared shitless? Bob on, Phillip! Just confess and Merlin forbid you actually think about what to do next, you cocknobbing shedhead! He realized his silence was dragging to a point where stuff might get awkward (as if they weren't already), so he took a big breath, the kind that was so obvious it was downright hilarious, and plastered a shit-eating grin on his face that was full of bravado. He was sweating. Well, this was just getting bobbins.

Letting his gob and his flailing limbs do his brain's work for him, he straightened his back and leaned forward to pull Alex to him. With a courage worthy of Butler as King Leonidas, he pressed his lips to hers, short, but kitten soft and pulled back with a dazed, sort of high as a kite expression and chuckled a little at his own... yeah, idiocy was the word. "Well, ye could always ask me out" he said breathlessly, swallowing nervously right as the words left his stupid, stupid mouth. This was Sparta, alright... and he was falling down a pit.

Alex could feel, or imagined herself able to feel, the colour rushing to her cheeks, staining them a blotchy pink as she began to feel increasingly embarrassed at her outburst. Unpleasant though Phillip’s silence was, it would be hypocritical in the extreme to complain at it, given the long stretches she’d waited before speaking at several points in their conversation. But waiting was painful, and she longed to turn away rather than continue to look at him. She didn’t, more afraid of missing his response than of seeing it.

His response was not reassuring, when it came, being considerably more worrying. It was abnormal behaviour even for Phillip, who had never seemed to be particularly concerned about adhering to the norm, and Alex was inclined, was always inclined, when it came to this, to think that it was a negative one. But the kiss (more a press of lips than a kiss, gone before she had even realised that it had begun) reassured her, though her wide-eyed expression might not have suggested as much. Phillip expressed tenderness so easily, or so it seemed to her.

She wasn’t so sure about the chuckle, but she had to assume that it was a good thing. He had just kissed her, after all, which was definitely a good thing, and she – they were both smiling. Like morons. It was difficult not to say this aloud, but she’d said something similar moments prior and she didn’t wish to be repetitive. Or stop Phillip smiling.

Alex knew that being suspicious wasn’t the natural reaction to someone you liked suggesting that you asked them out, but she couldn’t help it. It was – strange. She had never imagined that she would be the one to ask Phillip out, and she was happy with her idealised version of reality.

But Phillip would hardly reject her, and it was merely false pride and the concern that Phillip might get ideas if she did ask him out holding her back.  That he might think it funny to tease her about it. “Fine,” she relented, sounding far more irritated by the notion than she really was. It was irritation at being put in a position of relative weakness that fed it rather than frustration with Phillip, although she felt no small amount of that, but she wasn’t entirely sure he would be able to discern the difference. Sometimes, he seemed to understand her far better than he ought and it scared her. But he was frequently dense to the point that Alex suspected he was being deliberately obtuse, and they had not been close for so long as to make understanding the feeling behind words second nature.

“Would you like to go out with me?” she asked, the words spoken quickly even for her, as if ripping off a plaster to get the pain over with quickly. She stared at him expectantly, forgetting to keep her concern out of her expression as she did so. She was sure (she had been sure) he would say yes, and yet she was terrified he would say no.

She was smiling, so tha' was definitely pure buzzin', but then she was quiet, and Phillip's kite grew worried. As sorted as he was before, his head was completely in the biscuits now. It wasn't that he knew she was gon' say yes, but he sure hoped she would. The waiting tho, which might've not been so long, but felt like an eternity, was killing him. Straight lamped out by a tapper until bloody dead.

His eyes grew to ridiculous sizes as her answer came and his mouth opened ungracefully, looking just a wee bit like a fish. "Co—come again" he managed stupidly, kipper confused and puppy lost. But she did say it, as harpy-sh as she had sounded abut it. And he just—he simply couldn't wrap his tiny bird brains around it. So it was a long time coming, but his napper eventually made is way out of his arse and his lips grew into an impossible smile. Sort of demented and just a wee bit disturbed, because she'd said fine.

And sure it wasn't something for the pictures or even for the the little brats and littlest little brats in old age (that Phillip very much so wanted), because 'yer gran and I got together through a fine' wasn't exactly the most romantic of experiences, but she'd bloody said it! It was an okay! However reluctant. But Phillip could forget her constipated feelings.

As the question started, only after the first would, Phillip was already nodding like a seven Richter had just tapped the hut. And his smile, the one that was already making his face hurt, grew impossibly big, into a grin that encompassed practically all the good things that had ever happened to him, and they weren't many. But this was the proper best! He forgot about his legs for a second there, and he made to get up, hug her and spin her around and be generally an idiot in love about it, but all he'd managed was a sharp pain and a muttered fuck me clemmies.

It didn't matter tho, he leaned forward and grabbed her face gently between his hands, instructing his features in something a little less unhinged—eyes crinkling at the corners, smile unbelievably warm and if his eyes were twinkling just the weest of bits, well. "Yes"he said a lot more gravely than one would've been used to from one Phillip Kinsey. But it was only second after that he went all shaped like a wooden duck and grinned again. "Bloody ye—a thousand trillion times yes" he practically screeched and dipped in to place a smooch on her lips. Then pulled back to grin at her again. And then went in again, peppering her face with kisses, and he felt like a complete fuckin' shed head, but nothing, nothing, not even Alex's relcutance to anything affectionate could possibly make him stop.

Once he was out of this bloody bed he was gonna skip abut the castle hallways and scream at the top o' his lungs that 'ALEXANDRA CARSTAIRS SAID YES. HERE'S TO ALL THE HATERS!'

It wasn’t like she’d proposed marriage, and Alex felt that the reaction was ridiculously disproportionate even for Phillip. It was a little disconcerting, but more than that it had her smiling fondly at him. It had been a long time coming, after all, as these things went. Finally having a conclusion, particularly after the emotional mess of the accident, was a relief – that it was the conclusion she wanted made it all the sweeter. Not that sweetness was something she wanted, per se, but it was admittedly nice in small quantities.

In much the same way that Phillip’s ridiculous gestures were. Not one prone to sentiment, or romantically inclined in the least, Alex was a little unsure as to how to react – generally, it seemed that smiling at Phillip was all she was capable of. Thankfully, he was the only one who was present. But still, she hoped that he wouldn’t make a habit of it. Being flustered was not something that she enjoyed and Phillip had a unique ability to make her so, merely by expressing tenderness.

Nevertheless, she was smiling at him, no matter how moronic his declaration. “Quiet, you’re still in hospital and I’ll be thrown out for making you over excited,” she said, more soft than she would usually, and smiling as she did so.

Much as she didn’t want to admit it, any healer would be justified in doing so. Alex had probably not been an ideal guest for Phillip, and although kissing didn’t directly affect his leg, she was sure that the drama of their meeting hadn’t been beneficial. But if it had made Phillip feel better, then it would be better in the long term. Not to mention that such a long period of solitude was hardly ideal either.

Happily for her, there was no sign of one, and after a quick glance at the doorway she leant forward to kiss him, no more than a gentle press of lips before she retreated to a more comfortable distance. She wanted her visit to do more good than harm, after all, and being on best behaviour was the only way that she would be allowed another.

Her request made and answered, Alex realised she had put little thought to the aftermath. What was she supposed to say? The obvious monosyllabic answers seemed inappropriate and misplaced, and she was sure that bringing up another subject was also less than ideal. And, much as she was loathe to admit it, “I have to go to class.” It was said with genuine regret, “I’ll visit as soon as I can, if they’ll let me in.”

"The only way ye could get me excited 'nuff to cause any damage, would be if ye'd go brazen hussy on me and take off yer robe" he said grinning idiotically, wagging his eyebrows lecherously, and would have probably been ladged had his emotions not gon' mard. He'd then put his hands up defensively, ready for a chicken winger straight to his gob.

The kiss came as a welcome surprise and if he let out some dicky mint sound, something between a whimper and a satisfied sigh, well... Harpy wasn't one to ever do the do without some encouragement. So this was sound savage!Of course she'd retreated just as quickly, but Phillip was still grinning like a madman and making crazy eyes at her. Because this was beyond buzzin'.

The crestfallen face of a kicked puppy followed just as soon as she announced she was gon' leave. There was nish that could've saddened Kinsey more and he made his displeasure known through a low whine. "Narr, Harpy, don't leave me" he declared dramatically, faux-sobbing, pushing his arms forward to practically throw himself at her. Rubbing his face on her shoulder he eventually sighed very loudly and tipped his head back to look at her fondly. "If they don't, expect I'll be turning into a tapper and Hulk at all these mingers" he said, placing another quick kiss on her lips.

"Now go, girlfriend of mine, abandon thy lover in a hospital bed, ye bobbins woman" he shooed her, but smirked findly. As soon as she made the first step away he started singing softly "Hey, little girl, I wanna be your boyfriend" he hummed softly for a few seconds, "Sweet little girl, I wanna be your boyfriend." Letting out a little snort, mimicking a guitar, he then continued "Do you love me babe? What do you say? Do you love me babe? What can I say? Because I wanna be your boyfriend." There was nothing like a Ramones song to let yer lass know how ye felt.