Aramis Gatton
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- 34
- Wand
- Yew Wood, 14" Kelpie Hair Core, Sturdy
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<SIZE size="50">His smile was pearl and shimmered in the flutters of light as they walked the roadside, their fingers entwined as love held them close to its beating heart. There was a slight nip in the air, though it required no more attention than the addition of a thin jacket of an elegant scarf. She laughed, throwing her head back and flashing her teeth, the blonde curls of hair bouncing around her shoulders as she held onto his arm. They watched each others eyes with loving exchange. The world was perfect. It was as it should be. He had waited years for this feeling of pure bliss. They both had. And they had found each other only three years earlier at a New Year's party. Three years had passed by so fast, and now they lived together, the two of them in a beautiful little apartment on the outskirts of town. It was all too perfect.
".. And the part where he tripped! Oh, bless him!" Emily laughed with delight, reminiscing over the amateur dramatics performance they had just been to. It was one of those things they had started doing as a couple, and it gave them both great pleasure to witness the humour in making mistakes. They had made enough of their own in their time together, but none that had ever split them up. Aramis shook his head, his eyes almost watering with his grin. "'Oh, my love, my love!'" he mimicked, before reenacting the stumble across the stage. The two of them gasped with laughter once more, before slowing down on the path to face one-another. "My God, you're beautiful," Aramis spoke into her eyes, watching that shy blush of a smile erupt over her soft-featured face. He leant forward, kissing her as a gentle rose. "Oh, stop it!" she giggled, pushing at his shoulders, which only seemed to encourage him further to plant kisses over her face. "Honestly!" she rolled her eyes, still beaming back at him, "What are you like!" Aramis tugged at her arms, drawing her close again, looking deep into her brown eyes. "Look," he said, suddenly sounding a lot more serious, "I've been thinking about us.. About, well, about how close we are.." Emily seemed to twitch her arms at this, perhaps not hoping for this conversation. "No, look," Aramis shook his head, "don't worry, I'm not going to ask you just yet. But I was going to say that maybe.. Well, I know you're only staying over until you can sort out all the business with your flat but.. What if-" his eyes brushed over her, assessing how calm she was, feeling the pulse in her wrists. "Would you be interested in moving in with me on a more permanent basis?" A silence grew for a few tense moments, before Emily's face seemed to melt. "Yes," she grinned, "yes, I think I would like that very much."
The journey after that, the traipse back home, seemed a lot less daunting. The traffic had thinned rapidly, and very few vehicles passed them by. They had walked in gleaming, upbeat silence for some time, their hands linked and smiles glued to their faces. Aramis still wished he could propose, and he would have done so far sooner, had Emily not objected to the idea of letting the relationship move too fast. She wanted to enjoy their lives together, to 'take it slow' because they had the rest of their lives to spend huddled up with books, exchanging glances and making jokes about the characters. Aramis had the feeling that perhaps she was waiting to see if she could trust him, if there were no secrets in his life that he had hidden from her. But there was a secret. A very big and nasty secret that could tip their relationship from the iceberg on which it balanced for so long. Emily was a muggle. A beautiful, energetic and hopeful muggle with dreams of becoming a child psychiatrist. She was already in training for the job. Aramis wrote books. That was the stance he had up-taken in the muggle world, that was where he hid from his secrets. He did not wish for Emily to know of his heritage, though he hardly knew it, himself. Just simply that he had been born in London, had been raised by his aunt after his mother's breakdown, had attended a school for witches and wizards, and had upped and left after his mother's passing, ten years previous. That was his life. That was what he had known. And that was all in the past. Nothing more. He chose not to remember it, to reflect on it, only to focus on what he had now, to live every day as his last. And this one as good as was.
Aramis had already felt the change in the air, the sudden chill that seemed to set in, but he had brushed it off as nothing more than the time of night. Emily turned to plant a kiss on his cheek, though Aramis went the whole hog. The two of them smiled into each others eyes. "I love you," his heart whispered. Emily tilted her head, her hair falling over her shoulder as she studied his face. "I love you too," she spoke back. They kissed again before they began giggling, and soon, they were laughing about the performance once more. For the last time. They had just begun to discuss the terrible pun-filled scene at the centre of the play, when Emily's handbag slipped from her grasp. She smiled and sighed, bending down to pick it back up, watching her favourite lipstick roll out into the road. What happened next would fill Aramis' every dream, would push him to his very limits, would test his every instinct. Emily stepped out into the road, leaning down to pick up the lipstick. The road had been empty. It was all clear, one minute, but the next, those glaring white lights beat into Aramis' retinas, forcing him to squint. His voice seemed to echo distantly as he shouted out to his love "Emily!"
She lay there, her hair over her face, silent and still. Aramis ran to her side. The driver leapt out, calling for help. A crowd began to form, murmuring and gasping. But he couldn't hear any of that. He was deaf to it all as he swept back her hair to reveal her beautiful, pale face, now sorely marked. "No," his chest tightened, his heart thudded louder than thunder. "No" he could feel arms reaching out to him, trying to pull him away. Light filled the area. His hand reached out for hers, taking hold of it. A man in medical uniform was trying to move him away, to shepherd him to the ambulance. "No!" he screamed, struggling to break free and get back to his love, "NO!" he shrieked with heartbreaking cries. "NO, NO!" Tears raced down his cheeks. He was bundled by force into the back of a second ambulance. They were telling him that he would be taken to the same hospital, that they needed to check him over. He fought, and he fought. The vehicle moved on, and he heard the scream of sirens as the other ambulance sped off into the night with Emily unconscious in the back.
A Place We Used To Be
<i></i><FONT font="germand"><SIZE size="50">His smile was pearl and shimmered in the flutters of light as they walked the roadside, their fingers entwined as love held them close to its beating heart. There was a slight nip in the air, though it required no more attention than the addition of a thin jacket of an elegant scarf. She laughed, throwing her head back and flashing her teeth, the blonde curls of hair bouncing around her shoulders as she held onto his arm. They watched each others eyes with loving exchange. The world was perfect. It was as it should be. He had waited years for this feeling of pure bliss. They both had. And they had found each other only three years earlier at a New Year's party. Three years had passed by so fast, and now they lived together, the two of them in a beautiful little apartment on the outskirts of town. It was all too perfect.
".. And the part where he tripped! Oh, bless him!" Emily laughed with delight, reminiscing over the amateur dramatics performance they had just been to. It was one of those things they had started doing as a couple, and it gave them both great pleasure to witness the humour in making mistakes. They had made enough of their own in their time together, but none that had ever split them up. Aramis shook his head, his eyes almost watering with his grin. "'Oh, my love, my love!'" he mimicked, before reenacting the stumble across the stage. The two of them gasped with laughter once more, before slowing down on the path to face one-another. "My God, you're beautiful," Aramis spoke into her eyes, watching that shy blush of a smile erupt over her soft-featured face. He leant forward, kissing her as a gentle rose. "Oh, stop it!" she giggled, pushing at his shoulders, which only seemed to encourage him further to plant kisses over her face. "Honestly!" she rolled her eyes, still beaming back at him, "What are you like!" Aramis tugged at her arms, drawing her close again, looking deep into her brown eyes. "Look," he said, suddenly sounding a lot more serious, "I've been thinking about us.. About, well, about how close we are.." Emily seemed to twitch her arms at this, perhaps not hoping for this conversation. "No, look," Aramis shook his head, "don't worry, I'm not going to ask you just yet. But I was going to say that maybe.. Well, I know you're only staying over until you can sort out all the business with your flat but.. What if-" his eyes brushed over her, assessing how calm she was, feeling the pulse in her wrists. "Would you be interested in moving in with me on a more permanent basis?" A silence grew for a few tense moments, before Emily's face seemed to melt. "Yes," she grinned, "yes, I think I would like that very much."
The journey after that, the traipse back home, seemed a lot less daunting. The traffic had thinned rapidly, and very few vehicles passed them by. They had walked in gleaming, upbeat silence for some time, their hands linked and smiles glued to their faces. Aramis still wished he could propose, and he would have done so far sooner, had Emily not objected to the idea of letting the relationship move too fast. She wanted to enjoy their lives together, to 'take it slow' because they had the rest of their lives to spend huddled up with books, exchanging glances and making jokes about the characters. Aramis had the feeling that perhaps she was waiting to see if she could trust him, if there were no secrets in his life that he had hidden from her. But there was a secret. A very big and nasty secret that could tip their relationship from the iceberg on which it balanced for so long. Emily was a muggle. A beautiful, energetic and hopeful muggle with dreams of becoming a child psychiatrist. She was already in training for the job. Aramis wrote books. That was the stance he had up-taken in the muggle world, that was where he hid from his secrets. He did not wish for Emily to know of his heritage, though he hardly knew it, himself. Just simply that he had been born in London, had been raised by his aunt after his mother's breakdown, had attended a school for witches and wizards, and had upped and left after his mother's passing, ten years previous. That was his life. That was what he had known. And that was all in the past. Nothing more. He chose not to remember it, to reflect on it, only to focus on what he had now, to live every day as his last. And this one as good as was.
Aramis had already felt the change in the air, the sudden chill that seemed to set in, but he had brushed it off as nothing more than the time of night. Emily turned to plant a kiss on his cheek, though Aramis went the whole hog. The two of them smiled into each others eyes. "I love you," his heart whispered. Emily tilted her head, her hair falling over her shoulder as she studied his face. "I love you too," she spoke back. They kissed again before they began giggling, and soon, they were laughing about the performance once more. For the last time. They had just begun to discuss the terrible pun-filled scene at the centre of the play, when Emily's handbag slipped from her grasp. She smiled and sighed, bending down to pick it back up, watching her favourite lipstick roll out into the road. What happened next would fill Aramis' every dream, would push him to his very limits, would test his every instinct. Emily stepped out into the road, leaning down to pick up the lipstick. The road had been empty. It was all clear, one minute, but the next, those glaring white lights beat into Aramis' retinas, forcing him to squint. His voice seemed to echo distantly as he shouted out to his love "Emily!"
She lay there, her hair over her face, silent and still. Aramis ran to her side. The driver leapt out, calling for help. A crowd began to form, murmuring and gasping. But he couldn't hear any of that. He was deaf to it all as he swept back her hair to reveal her beautiful, pale face, now sorely marked. "No," his chest tightened, his heart thudded louder than thunder. "No" he could feel arms reaching out to him, trying to pull him away. Light filled the area. His hand reached out for hers, taking hold of it. A man in medical uniform was trying to move him away, to shepherd him to the ambulance. "No!" he screamed, struggling to break free and get back to his love, "NO!" he shrieked with heartbreaking cries. "NO, NO!" Tears raced down his cheeks. He was bundled by force into the back of a second ambulance. They were telling him that he would be taken to the same hospital, that they needed to check him over. He fought, and he fought. The vehicle moved on, and he heard the scream of sirens as the other ambulance sped off into the night with Emily unconscious in the back.