To Love Would Be an Awfully Big Adventure

[Dominic Hirsch]

I kind of added in some random backstory from the time between RPs. Let me know if it's too godmoddy, or feel free to add your own?

For the last six months, Dominic Hirsch had been treading lightly in his own home. You see, a woman by the name of Clare Walsh had come to be his roommate. He'd cleared out his study with a simple swish and flick, and she'd made the room quite homely. But this pair had not come together through Craigslist, or a newspaper ad, or a friend of a friend of a friend. The two had, quite strangely, met in the psych ward of St. Mungo's Hospital. One would assume a place like that to be cold and unforgiving, but Clare and Dominic had managed to form quite the bond. Even now, in the real world, they were spending most of their time together. Home, Mungo's, Brightstone, etc; it was simply natural to follow one another. But of course, there were the bad days, on which an escape was vital. On those days, Dominic would lock his door and stay tucked up in bed. Hugging a book, wishing for sleep, death, or quiet. Whichever was most convenient. Clare knew not to bother him, just as he knew to keep a lock charm on his medicine cabinet whenever she was feeling down. The good days, however, they were simply extraordinary. The two made forts out of sheets, went on trips to London, had picnics in Takarokaro Park. They may have seemed strange as individuals, but together they were at ease.

So why, if he enjoyed her company so much, did he feel the need to walk on eggshells? Well, because neither Clare nor himself were completely sound of mind. He believed that they needed to respect each other's fragility, and not invest too much in a possibly unhealthy friendship. That was the excuse he had told himself, to explain the renewed awkwardness between them. But what it really boiled down to was much more than that. The emotions he felt for Clare were a strange mix of understanding and distance, adoration and confusion. When making friends - or more - in the past, Dominic's feelings had always been rather clear cut. He either loved them blindly, or shut off completely. This girl didn't fit anywhere he was used to, and the uncomfortable silences were only increasing. He'd seen too much of her, both literally and metaphorically, but it still wasn't nearly enough. What could he do to get her to open up to him? What could he do to make the thudding in his head go away? To make everything go away. Except her. His.. friend? Roommate? Co-crazy? Regardless, things had been fairly uneventful in recent months. The treatment he'd received in St. Mungo's had, while not cured him, made life easier for the most part. Dominic was able to keep himself more balanced, and had been producing better articles because of that.

But work was far from his mind on this warm Spring weekend, with the young man currently in high spirits. Though it was only 10am, the day had already gotten off to a great start, and he was positively cheerful returning from a coffee run. Dominic stepped into the cosy apartment, letting the creaky door fall softly shut behind him. With coffee cups in one hand, and breakfast in the other, he wandered into the kitchen. Pleased to see that Clare was there, he passed her a drink and let a bright smile spread across his face. He wondered if she would notice the little heart drawn next to her name, and if it would occur to her that it was him who drew it. Dominic began to empty the bag onto the bench, but his attention was not the greatest, so at the slightest detection of activity elsewhere, he bounded away and into the living room. With a glance at the television he lit up instantly, and yelled into the other room. "IT'S PETER EFFIN' PAN, CLARE!" Forgetting his task, he curled up on the small couch, and set his dark coffee on the table beside him. The man was usually a mature one, preferring literature to cartoons. But at his heart's heart, Dominic was quite the Peter Pan himself. Maybe it was the fact that he'd grown up so strangely that today he remained a man-child. Or maybe he was just yet to grow up. Whatever it was, Dominic possessed such a joyful nature sometimes. And it was completely contagious.​

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[Clare Walsh]

It had been quite a journey for Clare to come from living inbetween the cold walls of St. Mungo's to the small apartment of one Dominic Hirsch, but the journey had been one that Clare was rearing to take for some years now. It was a novel thing to be moving in with another human being, something that most would take for granted, but not Clare Walsh. Since a very young age she had resided at St. Mungo's and although she had given off a cold and simplistic feeling, there was one special man that had broken through her protective shell and she had come to have strong feelings for. That man was in fact her new roommate, and they had become quite the quirky pair, which was not at all unbelievable due to the circumstances to which they met somewhere in the four walls of a hospital they had refused to conform into. If anything it made for an interesting story to tell. Those two quirky individuals had become more comfortable with oneanother than Clare could have ever imagined, and with the help of Dominic the young woman was living out the childhood she hadn't had the chance at, one picnic at a time. Just as they had learned how to act together, they had learned how to act apart, and they knew truer than ever the fragility eachother posessed, being one bad mood or one bottle of pills away from ending up right back where they started, something the two had managed to avoid through living in such close quarters.

Many improvements had been measured in Clare since moving in with Dominic, perhaps being so close to another human being in day to day life had prevented her returning to any of her old habits, it was almost as though she was too ashamed to do anything like that with another impressionable human being around. The change had even seen an improvement in the woman's waistline which was embarrassingly measured at each hospital appointment. Dominic tread carefully around her, spelling out words with her french fries, even going easy on the vegetables and laughing along with the twenty-three year old as the sauce from her spaghetti splattered the walls of his home. It was much like pursuading a small child to eat healthy food, and somehow Dominic had managed to do what Clare's mother had been trying to do for years. It seemed that a renewed faith in food was not the only benefit in the pair living together, Clare's health and wellbeing had improved, noticed by her healer quite obviously. Things in the household had been uneventful, the pair had had fun, got some work done, but most importantly found that they could confide in oneanother and Clare had discovered that she had never been happier than she was now, living in the homely study in Dominic's apartment.

To signify a change in her life, the once Peter Pan haired young woman now had hair just below shoulder length and had it darkened, a short fringe adding to the sixties look that was now what Clare was noticed for. Like a shedding a skin, Clare had changed her look and now on the clear Spring morning was sitting in her usual spot at the table upon a crochet cushion, her thin legs crossed as though she were a bird upon a perch. She was awaiting the return of her roommate with breakfast which was no longer a meal she detested, but one in which she looked forward to, relishing time to hear about what Dominic was working on, wanting so badly to have her own passion, but not knowing where to start with her lack education and excess of hospital experience. Hearing the door close, Clare jumped up from her seat, with her new hairstyle and modest white night gown she resembled more of a Wendy than Dominic, who was now her Peter Pan. Her Peter Pan seemed destracted, and it was by none other than Clare's favourite characters and she immediately bounded into the living room with an "EEEEEEEEEE!" echoing through the apartment as she bounced onto the couch next to Dominic, seeming to notice how they closely resembled the characters as she looked into her friend's playful expression. She cradled the coffee in her spindly hands, her thumb covering up the heart drawn next to her name, she would have to wait to discover it later for now she was consumed by the cartoon laid out before her eyes.​

 

[Dominic Hirsch]

Journalism was an odd line of work. It was full of late nights, constant research, travel and deadlines. Dominic, however, had freedom from many of those barriers. While writing freelance may have been irregular and unreliable, at least he didn't have to pack a suitcase every other day. Recently he'd been working on an expose-of-sorts on the Death Eater movement of New Zealand, which had been very interesting, if not a little disturbing. After all, his own mother had been a teenager living in London during the Second Wizarding War, so many of his discoveries had hit quite close to home. Dominic had also been receiving the occasional threatening owl, which was something he'd decided to keep to himself, lest he cause worry for any of his loved ones. It was simply something that came with the territory, much like the time Dominic had written about the illegal Elf trade in South America, and had found several jinxes and howlers from those whose 'businesses' the writer had ruined. Despite the setbacks and dangers writing in the Wizarding world posed, it firmly remained his passion. The man had stories to tell and journalism was his way of doing it. And it usually kept Dominic close to Brightstone, which meant close to Clare. He had often wondered where her passions lay, believing that a life was not complete without something to love. For him, it was a pen and parchment, for her, hopefully that would be discovered with time.

Any worry of owls and threats were forgotten as he watched the film and laughed at how eerily it seemed to mirror himself and the woman sitting next to him. Dominic may have most closely resembled the playful smirk of Peter himself, but he'd always thought that John's glasses were pretty BAMFy. Maybe he would have to stop wearing his contacts and throw on a top hat. Anyone unfamiliar with Dominic personally would assume that he was currently in a manic state. The fidgeting, the hyper vibe he was giving off, the lack of concentration. But in truth, this was just Dominic in a good mood. He had many reasons to feel that way right now, and with another bounce, he rearranged his seating position once more. Now his arm was pressed to Clare's, and he wondered to himself what the future might hold for them. He would have liked to one day marry, and have children, always having pictured a daughter named Diana. She was, of course, a Roman Goddess often associated with deer, which he thought was very witty, given the meaning of his surname. But it was also the name of a character from one of his favourite John Wyndham books, so he liked the literary reference. Then again, Dominic would be lost without his other half, and he doubted a wife would approve of spending so much time with another woman. So maybe they would remain spinsters forever. Together, yet apart. It never occurred to him that they could have all of that together.

In the short time they had been acquainted, Dominic had watched Clare grow exponentially. While he had once been a deer caught in the headlights of her steely and, quite frankly, intimidating gaze, he had quickly seen her transform into someone far richer and lighter of spirit. But it wasn't that he was 'proud' of his roommate, no, that seemed too condescending a word. Because Dominic, too, had improved immensely. He was proud of what they had achieved together - him, with a lessening need for medication and a greater sense of control; and her, finally being, well, her. She hadn't stayed in St. Mungo's for six months now, and he knew how reliant she had once been on the facility. Personally, Dominic had only once been admitted to the place, but Lord knew if Clare were to regress, he'd probably find himself right back there with her. He paused to look at her, having changed in more ways than one. Once golden hair was now chocolate, a once troubled soul was now content. Or at least she looked it, and as long as she was happy, things were fine by him. Dominic took her hand in his, still chilly from the outside world, and gave her a smile in return. "I like this movie," he said a little needlessly. The television buzzed in his peripheral, but the young man paid little attention as Tinkerbell's fairy dust let Wendy, John and Michael take flight.​

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[Clare Walsh]

With the television blaring and her roommate fidgeting next to her, Clare's mind began to wander. Her attention span had never been the greatest, even if she had managed to finish her years at Hogwarts she doubted it would have been easy to pass her classes which all seemed to go by too slowly for her liking. Her mind seemed to travel to the movie that was playing out before her eyes and it seemed to dawn on her just how much she and Dominic resembled the characters of Peter and Wendy, especially with Clare's current attire. The twenty-three year old shifted on the couch and crossed her legs, her mind still traveling through the depths, and imagining fairy dust being sprinkled upon her and how freeing it must have felt to fly or how the wind would feel as it rushed up her nightgown, cooling her thighs. But soon she felt something brush up against her arm, which seemed to jolt her back into reality, and send goosebumps along her skin. Dominic was rather close to her now, and she could feel his skin against hers. Clare mustered up a smile, but she did not dare to turn her head to look down at their skin touching, or even sneak a peek towards her friend. Instead she looked straight ahead, attempting to focus her eyes directly on the screen and the narrative that was playing out before her.

Had Clare read into the film she may have noticed the budding romance that seemed to be read in the characters of Wendy and Peter, but despite her being twenty-three years old, Clare had never even kissed a boy, let alone been able to read any amount of signs that the opposite sex could be sending. Truth be told, since moving in with Dominic, Clare had to admit that he was the closest person to her, he was her best friend and her roommate, but the idea of them ever being more than that had never danced through her mind. When she had first met him as a short haired brunette, she had admitted to herself that he was a rather handsome fellow and their joint escape from Saint Mungo's had been nothing short of glorious, but to even hold hands as they had through the hospital halls had had her heart racing like a thirteen year old. Moving her arm to adjust her grip on her coffee cup sent Clare's arm and hand brushing up against Dom's, the edge of her pinky finger now resting against his hand. The brunette froze and was unsure whether to move her hand away or leave it where it was. She did not want to be the cause of any awkwardness between the pair, but she felt something as their hands touched, it was almost as if she posessed an urge to hold his hand once more, that wasn't so terrible was it? Dominic spoke, breaking the war in her mind, "I like it too." she responded simply, almost saying what was on her mind "I like you".

With her eyes still fixed on the images playing out on the screen, Clare seized her moment and found her think finger grabbing awkwardly onto Dominic's hand. She hoped he didn't feel she had violated any part of their relationship and she instantly questioned the move. It was not so wrong for her to long for the touch of someone familiar, the hospital had proved to be unreliable in having people remian long enough to form solid connections with them. But somehow life had looked kindly upon the pair, and Clare and Dominic had become closer than Clare had ever been to another person. As Wendy and Peter held hands on the screen, Clare's eyes travled to the cup her coffee was in and she moved her thumb to notice a small heart next to her name. She blinked lightly and wondered if what she was seeing was really there. Could it have been that Dom had drawn the heart? She blinked once more but still did not dare to acknowledge Dominic's existence, even though their hands were now laced together it was as though he was not sitting next to her, Clare felt something rather scary, a sort of pang in her heart though her body was present her mind seemed to be elsewhere, it was as though she was flying, as though the coffee cup Dominic had handed her had a similar effect to the dust Tinkerbell had sprinkled. Clare felt weightless and free and she wanted to pursue this feeling as much as she could, more than that she wanted to plce a name to this magnificent feeling, however impossible that might be. ​