Quote:
Originally Posted by
SlytherinSistah 
Her simple recap charged his memories and he recalled, more clearly now how it had been. He could almost smell the sherbert ice cream. How kind she was. Gentle and reserved in her judgement, and unafraid of him too. These should've been happy thoughts, but instead they wrangled his hurt to the surface. There was NOTHING ever that he could've done to have deserved her. And he knew it like he knew the sun rises and sets. But did she know it?
"Well, of course I didn't." And don't you know why?
"You understood, Syndil. You knew everything. And yet you still..." He had to chose this word carefully. Too casual could be dismissive, too impassioned could put him in a worse hole via implying he willingly tossed something of great value. Though, when he realized this was the truth of the situation he was less inclined to steer away from this implication entirely. "Wanted to be near me. I've never had that before and I've not had that since."
His hand reached up and he placed it on her shoulder. Briefly enough to offer an affectionate squeeze and a small glimpse of things like images of gates formed of soggy tea leaves at the bottom of chinaware cups, the impoverished trappings of a rough borough and the ceiling of St. Mungos during multiple times of day, perhaps multiple times a year.
His response cut deep. Deeper then she would have liked considering she had thought him dead and his memory behind her. That was easier said then done though, when you had the flesh and blood man standing in front of her. Very much alive. Syd grimaced and rubbed her hands over her arms.
She could take several tacs in this situation but which would provide her with the most answers? Did she want the answers? Her mind flip flopped between yes and no for what seemed like ages when she finally decided on a course. Her expression of frustration and disbelief were reflected in her voice.
"Then why? If things were so good then why disappear? Why drop off the face of the planet when you finally find someone who understands?"
Maybe she was missing something that he wasn't saying. A piece of the puzzle was missing she could feel it. Her eyes tracked his hand as it diverted from reach for her own and instead landed on her shoulder. Images flashed through her mind and without meaning to she focused on them. Who was she kidding she had meant to. The image of the tea leaves was curious and several possibilities presented themselves but she hadn't the time to devote at the moment so she filed that one away. The next was a borough that she presumed was his home and she likewise filed it away for later.
The last few dozen images were the true attention getters. She recognized the venue immediately and could tell there were several with different clues that told her he had been there for quite sometime. But why? Was he truely dying? Had he been sick? What would have caused him to take an extended stint at St. Mungo's?