(Taken from IM; takes place after
this thread)
Sasha looked up, obediently, from his seat, obviously confused and more than slight concerned about the Slytherin's sudden change in demeanor when the other boy tugged on his sleeve. "I- sure, but -" No no. Now was not the time to clarify. Best do that outside of the first year's hearing range. Otherwise, the lie would have been entirely useless. The still unopened valentine's day card in his hand, Sasha followed Fergie out of the Great Hall and down one of the side corridors.
"We, you know, don't actually have a Divination project," Sasha offered quickly, hoping to diffuse some of the sudden tension. "I was just trying to find a way to get out of there." He offered, tentatively.
Fergie leveled one of those looks at Sasha that clearly stated ‘what do you think I am, stupid?’ without having to say anything at all. “I know.” He stated flatly, setting the kitten down on the floor as he entered a cozy little alcove. Had he been in the mood for it, it would have been a perfect spot for sneaking in some kissing. Instead, he leaned his back against the wall, folded his arms across his chest, and frowned.
“What exactly are you doing?”
Sasha froze when Fergie looked back at him, his eyes wide as he slowly shook his head. "I ... what?" He glanced down at the kitten on the floor, the card in his hand before looking back at Fergie, still looking completely bewildered. "I - don't know?" He cleared his throat and shook his head, again, fully aware he'd done something very wrong but, for the life of him, unable to identify what. "I lied, I know," he offered, apologetically, pointing back vaguely in the Great Hall's direction. "But, I just didn't want to open this in front of her, you know?"
Of course he didn’t know. Fergie sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between a thumb and forefinger. He knew Sasha wasn’t doing this on purpose. The boy was just really, really oblivious. It had taken him how long to figure out Fergie even liked him? And that was only after Fergie had kissed him. So he was going to have to make this very obvious.
“It’s not about the card. That’s not... Don’t you have
something else you’re supposed to be doing tonight? Something
non-dance related?”
Sasha nodded slowly, though he still hadn't the faintest idea where this conversation was going. Or, even, where it had started. "
Ja," he offered, tentatively. "We're having dinner, aren't we? I mean," he swallowed. "If you still want to."
Fergie blinked, incredulous. Seriously? He still didn’t get it? “I do. But apparently you’re going to the dance. That’s what you just told your first year Valentine.”
"I ... what?" Sasha stared back at Fergie and shook his head, again, feeling his gut plummet somewhere to the vicinity of his socks. "I'm- no I'm not. She's- she's not my ... Valentine! You - you know that! I'm not going - we've ... we've got plans, right?"
“I don’t know. Do we? Because I’m pretty sure Eirene thinks you have plans with
her now.”
Sasha quickly shook his head and slumped on a ledge lining the alcove. "I never said … you know I want to have plans with you. I never said - I never
would have said I'd go to the dance with her!"
“Not on purpose, I know. But think about it. She thinks you guys are secret valentines or something, and then she asked you -” he put his hand to his chest and adopted a high pitched, breathless girly voice, “ - like this -” he fluttered his eyelashes at Sasha before dropping the act, “if you were going to the dance. You said yes.”
"But- I tried to tell her it wasn't me! She just wasn't listening!" His turned scarlet and looked down at his hands when Fergie imitated the first year. He let out a long sigh and slowly shook his head. Things had been so good not ten minutes ago and now ... he'd managed to ruin it. "I'm sorry. I didn't - I thought if I said 'no,' she would have started crying again. But - I never said I was going with her! I just wanted to get out of there with you."
“She’s twelve, dearheart,” Fergie pointed out, more gently this time, and reached out to take Sasha’s hands. He didn’t want him to feel bad. Fergie was just... agitated. “You can’t expect her to take a realistic view of things. But, you know... there’s something you could do if you want to avoid misunderstandings like this in the future.”
Fergie's hands came into Sasha's range of view as the other boy took hold of his hands. He looked up at the Slytherin and shrugged his shoulders. "What? Tell her to go away and leave me alone? You saw how close she was to crying just because she thought I hadn't given her that necklace. I don't want to hurt her feelings but ... she's so stubborn! I don't mind her liking me just … not … you know."
“No, not that! But if you’re going to get the point across, you are, eventually, going to have to hurt her feelings, at least a little bit.” It was unfortunate, but inevitable. “You’re either going to have to talk to her, or... you know, you could just...
show her you’re not interested.”
"So, she's going to hate me as much as Neely does," Sasha resigned with a sigh. Why did it have to be so complicated? "She's going to cry. How would I show her? What? Glare at her every time I see her?" Quickly, a thought occurred to him and he added: "Or, I could send her an owl." That way, she could get all the crying done without him around! It sounded like an ideal solution.
“No, you don’t have to - being mean isn’t the only way to show her you don’t like her.” Fergie bit his lip and nervously shifted his weight from one foot to the other. This was the part where everything could very well blow up in his face. “You could always just... show her you like someone else. Show everyone. What if...” He stepped closer, voice dropping to a whisper. “What if you took me to the dance?”
Sasha froze and stared up at Fergie. What if he took Fergie to the dance? But, that would ... yes, like Fergie had said, show
everyone. Not just Eirene but Neely and ... everyone. "I-" He looked down at the Valentine card that remained still unopened in his hand. "Aren't you, you know, worried ... what people will think? I mean, Knight and ... your sister?" He wasn't sure how Fergie couldn't be worried. He was terrified.
Fergie hadn’t expected Sasha to say yes, not really. And certainly not immediately. So there was absolutely no reason for his heart to sink the way it did, settling somewhere around his shoes. His gaze followed it. “Right, yeah, of course. What will people think.” He swallowed against the lump that had suddenly risen in his throat. “It’s a stupid idea. Forget I... It’s just,” he carried on anyway, clutching Sasha’s hands a little tighter, “it’s Valentine’s Day, you know? And I care about you
so much. I don’t want to hide it anymore. We shouldn’t have to. But I get it. I do. I... sorry. I don’t... I mean, if you’re not ready, I don’t want... sorry.”
To Sasha's surprise, the disappointment that, very clearly, settled over Ferguson effected Sasha as immediately and strongly as the boy's giddy happiness had back in the Great Hall. But, surely, Fergie must understand. And, he did, obviously. He'd just agreed! If it weren't for the tighter grip on his hands, he'd have been relieved to leave it there. It wasn't ideal, but it also wasn't terrifying.
But, then, Fergie elaborated his motivations and Sasha froze, watching the Slytherin before the telltale clouding of his vision forced him to lift his head as he blinked rapidly. What was happening here? What were they doing. What was
he doing. He really wanted to call a time out and request a time to sit in a corner quietly somewhere, scribbling his thoughts out in disconnected sentences until enough was unloaded to be reorganized and made sense of.
"I'm sorry. I'm not very good at this," he admitted. It was probably one of the most redundant things he'd said in quite a while. "I don't ... don't know how to explain this."
“You don’t have to explain.” Fergie released Sasha’s hands and distracted himself with checking on the kitten. She’s been largely ignored throughout the interaction, but fortunately hadn’t decided to wander off. Instead, she was poking curiously at Fergie’s bag, sitting on the floor. He gently shooed her away so he could retrieve a quill - Sasha’d said she liked those. And, if the way she jumped at it was any indication, the other boy hadn’t been wrong. “Look, I know I’m being irrational. You don’t want Callum or Dreogan to find out. And if my parents hear about it, I’m... I don’t know what will happen. I know I should care about that. I
do care about that. But I also don’t.”
Fergie straightened, and leaned against the wall again. When he’d gotten up that morning, he’d thought, for the first time, that maybe Valentine’s Day wasn’t so bad after all. Now he was back to thinking it just kind of sucked. “It’s... sorry. It’s my issue. We’re at different places in this, I know. I... sorry for bothering you.” And this had to be setting some kind of record, because he was pretty sure he’d apologized as many times in the conversation as Sasha had. “I’m not very good at this either. I have no idea what I’m doing. The last thing I want is for you to feel pressured, you know? I just... everyone else gets to hold their boyfriend’s hand when they walk down the halls. And I guess I’m jealous of that. But I know our situation is complicated. I...” he heaved another sigh, and looked up at the ceiling. “Sorry. You have enough drama. You don’t need this.”
Sasha visibly flinched when Fergie let his hands fall back in his lap and turned his attention to the kitten. He shook his head; he knew Fergie was trying to let him off the hook - to let Sasha back out of trying to offer an explanation if he wanted to. And, yes. Fergie had voiced two of his biggest concerns: the fallout from Knight finding out and the what-ifs if Dreogan found out. Everyone else's opinion did matter as well but to lesser extents. He did care. He wished he didn't - he wished he could make this easier but ...
Walking into that dance with Fergie at his side meant admitting
this to everyone. And, in the end, it meant admitting it to himself. When it was just he and Fergie that knew, it seemed easier, safer. Really, at the root of this, he cared more about what
he thought than anyone else. He shifted off the ledge and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, scooping up the kitten and plopping it in his lap. Somehow, coming to that conclusion - identifying the root fear - helped settle his mind and it fell quiet as he scratched the kitten's stomach.
“It’s... sorry. It’s my issue. We’re at different places in this, I know. I... sorry for bothering you.” "Fergie," he said, quietly - too quietly to actually interrupt the Slytherin.
"The last thing I want is for you to feel pressured, you know? I just... everyone else gets to hold their boyfriend’s hand when they walk down the halls. "Fergie," he said, again, his voice still quiet and hesitant. But, he lifted the valentine's day card in his hand and, carefully, slipped a finger under the seam of the envelope and easing it free.
“Sorry. You have enough drama. You don’t need this.” He couldn't stop the tears, this time. He took a deep, shaky breath that caught slightly in a chuckle as he held the envelop up out of reach of the kitten's curious claws. "But, I do. I do need this," he said, finally looking up at Fergie. "I don't ... I don't know how I would have gotten through these last few months without you."
Wait. Was Sasha...? Sasha was
crying. Fergie blinked and quickly dropped down in front of him. “Woah, woah, hey, no, you don’t have to -” Fergie shook his head and cupped Sasha’s face in his hands, gently brushing the tears away with his thumbs. “You know I didn’t mean
all of this, right?” Sasha hadn’t misunderstood, had he? “I just meant - the dance. It’s not a deal breaker. I
want it, but I don’t have to have it. I wouldn’t...” And, just to make sure it was very, very clear, he quickly leaned in and caught Sasha’s lips in a kiss. “I wouldn’t break up with you. You know that, right? I love you.” And oh, wow, hey, that had just sort of slipped out. Fergie’s cheeks turned bright red, but he quickly pressed on. “You don’t have to say it back. I know it’s soon. I just want to make sure you know I’m not giving this up easy, whether we, you know, let people know about it or not.”
Sasha's felt the warmth surge to his cheeks when Fergie took his face in his hands and bashfully made a slight attempt to turn his face into the shadows. But, when his effort met resistance, he looked back at Fergie and offered a quiet, "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't - I ..." As soon as he'd stopped trying to hide the emotion, rather than feeling embarrassed, he found the gesture and the closeness comforting. "I know," Sasha quickly insisted, taking a deep breath and trying to stop the periodic trickle of tears. "I know you weren't saying you'd leave." He had known it, though it was nice to hear it. "It's not that. And, I don't really know - I don't know how to explain it. But I want to," he quickly added before Fergie had a chance to tell him he didn't need to.
He met Fergie in the kiss, leaning into it, slightly, one hand resting on Fergie's cheek. He had not been expecting what came next. He stared at Ferguson for several long moments, only vaguely aware of the kitten kneading the knee of his trousers with her needle-sharp claws. He sniffed a little louder than he would have liked and, subsequently, spared a quick glance at the opening of the alcove, certain someone would have heard. When he looked back, though, a slight grin had settled on his face. "I think I already knew," he admitted, with a nod. "And, I'm glad."
The tears hadn't abated much. With a deep breath, Sasha leaned a cheek into Fergie's hands. "Everything I thought I knew is gone. I've felt so ... out of control of everything and nothing seems to make sense anymore. There are some days, I just feel so
lost. And you ... us ... this old part of me keeps saying this should make the least sense of all and, yet, it seems like it's the only thing that does anymore. I keep hoping that if, you know, nothing changes - it'll stay safe. I don't know."
Fergie released a long, deep breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. It was kind of funny. He’d started to figure out just how much he cared about Sasha about a month ago, and had spent the time between then and now thinking it would be a bad idea to admit it, and agonizing over the possible aftermath if he was stupid enough to do so. But here it had just sort of happened, and everything had been fine. In a romance novel, sure, this would be the part where Sasha dramatically swept Fergie in his arms and declare that he loved him, too.
But this wasn’t a Dolly St. James novel. This was real life, and Fergie found himself genuinely okay with that. ‘I’m glad’ was much better than if it had turned out to be too much, too soon and left Sasha with that shocked, frozen, vaguely horrified expression - like that first kiss, back in November, had. He could be perfectly happy with an ‘I’m glad’ and wait patiently for Sasha to catch up. Fergie had been developing these feelings a lot longer than the Ravenclaw had, after all. “I feel like I should be embarrassed that I’m that obvious.” He answered Sasha’s slight grin with one of his own. “But I’m not.”
While Sasha explained, Fergie gently picked the kitten up and set her aside so that he could comfortably resituate, pulling Sasha into his arms and brushing a hand through the Ravenclaw’s hair. He really, really hated that Sasha was upset, that he still felt so lost sometimes. It was understandable, given everything that had happened since school had started back in September, but it still sucked.
“That makes sense,” he said softly, pressing his lips to the Ravenclaw’s temple when the other boy had finished. “But you have to understand, this wouldn’t change anything. Not really. I mean, it will. People will know, and that’s a little scary. But it’d still be you and me, the same feelings, the same relationship. We just wouldn’t have to hide in broom closets and empty classrooms when we wanted to be... couple-y.” There needed to be a better word than that. Fergie was sure one existed, but that was the one that had found it’s way out. “Don’t you think that would be, I don’t know... Freeing?”
Amidst the tears, an abrupt and shaky laugh escaped Sasha as he shook his head. "I think we've already established a little too obvious isn't a bad thing around me." A fresh dash of pink rose in Sasha's cheeks and he offered a bashful grin as he shrugged his shoulders.
He was wiping his cheek with the heel of one hand when he saw Fergie reach for the kitten. A slight look of bewilderment on his face, he glanced from the kitten Fergie to the kitten and back up to Fergie when the other boy extracted the cat from his lap. At first, Sasha stiffened, reflexively, when Fergie pulled him close though he didn't outright resist the gesture. The tension passed quickly, though. Within moments he relaxed into the other boy's arms, resting his head on Fergie's chest.
Some stubborn, residual part of him wanted to insist that going to the dance with Fergie - making their relationship public knowledge - would change everything. But, the rest of him was able to follow the train of thought Ferguson offered to its conclusion. And, he knew, at the end of it, Ferguson was right. "I've had to hide the last five years," he admitted with a sigh. "It has gotten easy for me. But, I remember how consuming it was. Sometimes it felt like that was all I was. Like Gregor's bug. It destroyed him in the end." He shrugged and shook his head. "And, the truth is, it's not going to get easier with time. Actually, it got harder to escape the lie the longer I hid in it. I - alright. But, you're doing it with me." Well, obviously. That was the point, wasn't it?
Fergie didn’t understand the reference to muggle literature, and directed a brief, puzzled look at Sasha, but he figured that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he understood. His situation had never been as big of a deal as Sasha’s - he’d never had to hide
everything. Just subdue himself when he was at home - keep a close guard on his tongue and his mannerisms, make sure his dad didn’t find out about certain hobbies and interests and magazine subscriptions (Witch Weekly was not exactly acceptable reading fare for an Amherst Man), make sure he followed all the rules about proper pureblood society behavior. It sounded a lot harder than it was when he started listing things in his head, but most days it wasn't that bad. Other days he felt like he was going to
explode if he didn't get it out there, and he'd be so tempted to just
say it and screw the consequences. But he couldn't.
He was just really, really thankful that he was away at school most of the year, and that Duke had graduated. Otherwise? He was pretty sure he'd go crazy.
"Alright?" He repeated, pulling back from Sasha slightly so he could gently tilt the other boy's face up with one hand under Sasha's chin, and look at him. Make sure he wasn't imagining this. "I - you mean - we can go? Together?" To the dance. The
Valentine's dance. He was going to slow dance with his boyfriend on Valentine's Day. As that started to sink in, Fergie's face broke into a wide grin, and he gave an involuntary, breathless chuckle. "Of course, of course I am. I'll be there every step of the way, I promise, I...this..." He pulled Sasha close again, hugging him tightly and hiding his face in the Ravenclaw's shoulder. "Thank you. You are... I'm pretty sure you're the best boyfriend ever."
Sasha nodded his head and, this time, made no effort to resist Fergie's touch even though he was certain: "I'm ... a mess. I'm sorry." He certainly wasn't going to the dance looking like this.
Going to the dance. "Ja. We can go. Together," he confirmed with a nervous grin. But, that grin that spread across Fergie's face made it worth it. It was much more similar to that expression he'd worn back at the table. Before Sasha, apparently, had asked Eirene out. (Had he, really?) "We should match."
Sasha nodded. He knew Fergie would be there. For reasons other than the obvious. Fergie had been with him every step of the way these last two months; there was no reason to question whether now would be any different. He returned the hug, pressing his lips to Fergie's temple as he held him. "Or," Sasha countered with a slight grin. "I'm just fairly decent at making up for it when I fumble."
Sasha leaned back and looked down at the as of yet still unopened Valentine in his hand. "So..." He started to ask tentatively. "Am I supposed to give back the unicorn before opening this?" It was clear, after all, Fergie had a better grasp of what to do in these situations than he did.
You're not a mess," Fergie insisted, considering the Ravenclaw's face and sticking his tongue out at the boy. "Just... less meticulously put together than usual. You can work the rumpled look." He grinned, purposefully mussing up the other boy's hair. "It's kind of cute, actually. Endearing."
And no, apparently, Fergie hadn't imagined it. Sasha even wanted to
match. Fergie couldn't help the excited fluttering in his stomach at that. The old saying about the way to a guy's heart being through his stomach might have rung true in most cases, but the way to Fergie's definitely involved
style. "Yes! Yes we should, I... Red. I was going to wear red, if I went.
We went." Because of course he wouldn't have gone by himself. "Well, black suit, but red vest and tie." It was Valentine's day, after all (which, by the way, was officially back to not sucking).
He rolled his eyes and scoffed, fondly, at Sasha's disclaimer. "I like my way of putting it better. And you didn't fumble that badly." At least, it didn't seem that bad in retrospect. Actually, now that things were all sorted out, it was kind of funny. "Next Valentine's, we'll look back and joke about it. Just don't make this a tradition, okay?"
Oh yeah! The card. "I forgot about that," Fergie admitted sheepishly, leaning his back against the wall next to Sasha. He was blushing again, he knew because he could feel his cheeks heat up. "You can open it. It's just... it's not
profound, okay? Just... yeah, open it. Then I can give you your present." Which he was
exponentially more nervous about than the card, but whatever.
Sasha rolled his eyes but grinned at the Slytherin. "The rumpled look? You mean the emotionally unstable look." He shook his head, dubiously. "I know you're not usually supposed to, you know, do all that. I'm sorry. I know better and there I was all worried about
her crying and I go and am no better and - cute?" Sasha glanced up at Fergie, raising an eyebrow dubiously at him.
Black suit with red vest? Wasn't that a bit ... obvious? But, then, wasn't that what they were going for? Sasha took a deep breath and nodded. The more of these details they seemed to work out the more real this whole endeavor was becoming. "I've got something, I think. I've got a blue vest somewhere and I did transfigure my socks." He'd figure it out. There was time.
Making traditions. Next year. The card in his hand. Sasha smiled at Ferguson and looked down at the card, finally sliding it free from the envelope. He stared at the front before flipping it open with his thumb and reading the inside. He read it about five times before looking up (luckily, it was short enough that it didn't take
that long.) "Of course," he answered. "I'd love to."
“What do you mean, you know better?” Fergie arched an eyebrow. “People cry, Sasha. It happens. To
everyone. Well, okay,” he amended, making a dismissive gesture with both hands, “maybe not everyone - I heard a rumor that Professor Storm had his tear ducts magically removed - but everyone else. There’s absolutely no reason to apologize.”
He shrugged. “Yes. Cute. You look...” He fished around for the right word. Somehow he didn’t think either of the descriptions that immediately came to mind -
vulnerable, and
like a sad puppy I want to bring home and take care of (and kiss, which wasn't a reaction he'd ever had to an actual sad puppy)- would appeal to Sasha. “...fine,” he settled on eventually. “You don’t always have to look picture perfect, you know.” And yes, he was well aware that this statement was kind of ironic, coming from him.
After all this, it wasn’t like he’d thought it at all likely that Sasha would say ‘no’ to being his Valentine. That didn’t, however, stop the affirmation from being nice to hear, and it didn’t stop Fergie from leaning in to answer that ‘of course’ with another kiss, lingering in it a little longer than he’d intended. “I guess that means I have to give you a present,” he said, eventually pulling back and reaching out to tug his bag towards him.
“This present comes in two parts,” he explained as he flipped open the flap of the bag, having to gently push the kitten away again. She was, apparently, very very nosy - which he guessed rang true of most cats. “The first part follows the cheesey tradition of giving your valentine a box of sweets. Only I know how you feel about empty calories,” he passed the Ravenclaw a shiny brown box with a ribbon around it, “so I got you chocolate covered strawberries instead of, you know, candy or pastries.”
"Not in public-" Sasha pointed out but then glanced around the otherwise empty alcove and shrugged awkwardly. He did offer a grin, though, and gave the slightest ducking nod of his head. They actually probably didn't want to see what it'd take to prompt Professor Storm to offer proof that would contradict the rumor. "Have we seen him carrying around eye drops or tear replacement potions? Maybe he doesn't even need them. Maybe his alter ego is like Iron Eye. Cousin to Iron Man." Okay. It was stupid. And, very muggle. But, it had been the first thing that had come to mind and, in the emotional upheaval of the last few moments, it was good enough.
The second kiss definitely helped to continue to brighten the mood and, as it continued, all the other concerns and worries seemed to fade into the background. Even the thought of making their relationship public knowledge at school later that evening seemed to getting pushed out of the way by the simple presence of Fergie and and the kiss. Sasha reached up with a hand and rested it gently on Fergie's chest, his fingers closing around the fabric of his shirt, tugging the other boy gently towards him.
"Alright." Blushing and grinning goofily when Fergie finally pulled back and turned to his bag, Sasha watched as Fergie pulled out the small box. "Really?" He was, officially, beaming as he slipped the top off the box and peered down at the decorative (and delicious looking) strawberries. "I love them!" he admitted, as he reached in for one. He hadn't the slightest clue what was considered proper etiquette in this situation. Was one supposed to wait? The question didn't linger long in his head - the more he thought about it, the more he found he didn't really care that much. "And, you know, lots of Vitamin C," he added sheepishly, taking out one before offering one to Ferguson.
"I have... absolutely no idea what you're talking about," Fergie admitted, laughing regardless and playfully knocking his shoulder against Sasha's. "You're bloody cute, though." He grinned, and winked.
And, honestly, he would have been content to stay there, kissing Sasha, for an indefinite amount of time, especially when the Ravenclaw's hand found its way to Fergie's chest. There was, he was certain, absolutely no way Sasha
couldn't feel how quickly he made Fergie's heart beat like that. But there would be more time for that later. He still had to properly thank the other boy for the kitten, after all.
Fergie felt a great sense of satisfaction, seeing the way the other boy beamed at the strawberries. He guessed that meant he'd done all right, at least with the first part of the present. Fergie accepted the strawberry Sasha offered him with only momentary hesitation (he didn't think you were supposed to eat part of the present you'd given, but Sasha
had offered). "Yes, very good for you. And more importantly," he added, after he'd finished, "they're super delicious."
And now for the big present. Fergie reached in his bag again, coming up with a little
red box. But he didn't immediately hand it over. Instead he bit his lip and fidgeted, turning the box this way and that, focusing on it rather than on the recipient.
"So I got this before we had this talk, obviously," he began. It had felt like a really good idea at the time, but of course now that it came time to actually give it to the other boy, Fergie was all nerves. What if he didn't like it? "I thought maybe it would be nice if we had something that, you know, could sort of tie us together. Something no one else knew about, but
we'd know, and it would be... like we were holding hands, without actually touching. And then I saw this in a catalog and I thought it would be perfect, so I ordered two - one for you and one for me. I'm wearing mine now," he added, tugging down the collar of his shirt a little so Sasha could see the glint of a
silver chain around his neck. "But if... if you hate it, let me know and I'll send it back, I'll find something better. Just... here." He quickly dropped the box into the other boy's lap, scooting back a few inches so he could watch, anxiously, while Sasha opened it.
After he'd said it, Sasha knew the reference would likely go straight over the Slytherin's head. That was probably for the best. It made it all the more likely that Fergie would think he was 'bloody cute' rather than 'a bloody nerd.' "It's - yeah. A superhero kind of thing. Like Spiderman. Which probably doesn't help." Sasha offered vaguely with a shrug, grinning bashfully. He tried desperately to remember if he'd ever seen anything equivalent in Flourish and Blotts on his handful of dashes through the place. He couldn't picture any, though. They could be very cool, though. The images in the comics could move. And, perhaps, even make noises. They probably didn't need to use the over corny spiky "
POW" bubble. "I'll just ... I'll have to show you." Even though Sasha wasn't sure Fergie was quite the Marvel/graphic novel type.
And, they were discussing Valentine's. A topic that really shouldn't coexist with comic books anyway. "Yes, definitely. Very delicious." And, easily, one of his favorites. Chewing his lip, Sasha replaced the top on the box of strawberries and set it to the side. On the ledge of the alcove and well out of reach of the kitten.
He turned back to Fergie, watching as the boy held the small red box. The other boy was, obviously, nervous which, of course, increased the present's intrigue. He watched Fergie as the Slytherin explained, his brows bunched slightly in curiosity. His gaze flickered to the hint of silver around Fergie's neck before settling on the box, now in his lap. He slipped the top off and gazed down at the pendant. He took it, gently, between his fingers and freed it from the padding lining the bottom of the box. The shiny immediately attracted the kitten's attention and Sasha lifted his hand well out of the kitten's reach.
"I love it," he said quietly, smiling as he flipped it over in his hand before looking up at Fergie. "I-" He didn't have the slightest idea to put the thoughts in his head into words. This was all very new, uncharted territory. "Thank you." He fished under his own collar for the silver chain that was already there and slipped it with the
ring suspended from it over his neck and undid the clasp.
[February 14] Awkward Valentine's Exchange