An Afternoon Of Animals, Oh. Joy.

[Rhyssen Swanson]

Moving from one cage to the next (with ample distance given in between her figure and that which could be considered close proximity to the various caged species), Rhyssen jolted straight when she caught sight of a pair of rats watching her from a few cages away. She was having an incredibly difficult time keeping her composure, as well as her will to remain in the shop, but after having survived the first two minutes unscathed - she was gaining hope that she'd pull through the situation long enough to actually pick up something like she'd planned.

Her stepdaughter, Gemma, had arrived back from a week stay with a soon-to-be schoolmate in Dover full of sighs. Her friend had practically had a whole menagerie, and been given an owl to take to Hogwarts by her father, as well. Of course, hearing that, Rhyssen had decided then and there how unsuitable it would be for Gemma to have nothing to take to Hogwarts with her for company her first year. She still remembered how lonely she'd felt initially at her arrival at the grand school, and wasn't about to bestow that fate on her stepdaughter.

Tucking back a curl from her face that had come loose from the elegant knot she'd tied at the back of her head, she smiled gently when she stopped before a small snow-white owl in the cage before her. Allowing herself to look it over as it sat, silently, returning her stare, she finally inquired to the shopkeeper above the racket in the shop, "Could you tell me about this one?"

[Sinclair Musings]

Ethan hadn't been down to the pet shop since getting himself, and his owl Rhyssen (Merlin, he hated that he'd named the creature that at this point - and the bloody thing refused to answer to anything else), settled into their new surroundings. But now he took the time to come down and renew his orders of weekly food and even pick up a better cage, her old one having finally gotten to the point where Rhyssen refused to even get into it.

Typical...

Pushing the door open, he headed at once towards the front of the shop picking up an order form and filling out the boxes with a wave of his wand. Sticking it into the slot by the register, he headed towards the row of cages when his feet halted and his heart dropped when a voice floated above the myriad sounds of animals.

He refused to turn. Refused to believe it was her. He'd spent the last weeks simply trying to grapple with the fact that she was married. Hell, he'd almost taken off Jori's head when she'd told him that. The witch had been damn lucky that he cared about her as much as he did.

He forced himself to keep moving then. Reaching the cages, he stared blankly up at them not able to even make sense of what he was looking for through the rage that was currently consuming him. Not more than a damn month had passed before she'd married that damn bastard. While he was still wishing he'd done things differently, she'd fucking married some rich bastard!

His jaw worked hard before he was turning and marching down the aisle, just as the shopkeeper was reaching the curly-haired witch. He gave the woman such a glare, though, that she paled and backed up instantly upsetting a cage of nifflers which immediately bounded off towards the opposite side of the shop. It worked out great for Ethan as he grabbed Rhyssen by her upper arms and pulled her towards him, his face inches from her own before he spoke, each word seething with anger. "Is he why you left? Were you fucking him on the side? Is he the reason why things weren't working out?"

[Rhyssen Swanson]

Gasping when a sudden pair of strong arms rendered her powerless as she was jerked around and against a hard form, Rhyssen swallowed the urge to scream when her gaze shakily met the silvery-blue orbs she'd only been telling herself she'd completely forgotten. It took her an instant to register what was happening, so mindless was she rendered by the sudden, violent proximity of him, his anger radiating off of him in waves that did nothing to put her at ease.

"Is he why you left? Were you fucking him on the side? Is he the reason why things weren't working out?"

"I don't know what you're going on about," she whispered forcibly, struggling against him to no avail. Casting a glance around the menagerie at the few souls that mingled about the shop, she closed her eyes in mortification that someone who knew her might see her right then. The last thing she needed was to be in the gossip columns, especially with her first anniversary coming up and the gala being thrown to celebrate it. She focused on these thoughts, as trivial as they were, because they gave her the will to sustain some degree of composure. She was aching already inside, the accusation cutting deep when it finally made sense to her as to who he was referring to.

It hurt even more that he would believe her to have done such a thing, no matter how angry he may have been.

"Remove your hands from me, now," she commanded as she lifted her gaze imperiously to his, her chin trembling only a touch before the facade of absolute coolness fell upon her features. She wouldn't allow him to encite her to make a scene, no, she had cleaned her hands of him and that sort of emotion long ago, and she stiffly held her gaze as she straightened her back.

"You have no right to touch me."

[Haddock Vibe]

His eyes bore into her own, his heart thudding so hard against his chest that he was sure it would burst from its cage, but he had to believe that somewhere in her gaze he would find a sliver of feeling for him. Something that would let him know that she hadn't forgotten him and everything that they'd meant to the other. And for a brief moment, one sliver of hope, he swore he saw it.

And then it was gone. Like a puff of smoke. She looked upon him as if he were a stranger. He knew he should let her go then, but he couldn't. The anger was still too strong, the pain too deep. Everything he'd managed to get past over the last year had been drug up and tossed upon him without care that he mightn't be able to ride this one out. It had been the singularly most painful time of his life.

"You're still too damn good for anyone but your own damn social agenda, aren't you?" he asked, pure disgust in his voice, before his tone dropped to a venomous whisper, "Tell me, Rhys, did you trade up for a better one? One with money? Are mum and dad just proud as punch? James must have been out of his mind with joy when you dumped the half-blood."

Releasing his grip on her when he spat out the last word, his lip curled into a sneer, all his years in Slytherin house apparantly working towards his own good at the moment. "Why I ever trusted a conniving, selfish woman like you with my heart is beyond me. I'm just disgusted that it took me so much longer than Sebastian to discover the truth about you."

Hurtful? Hell yes. But then it'd almost destroyed him when he'd found out.

[Rhyssen Swanson]

Her eyes were stinging with every word he spat, with every insult he thrust towards her. Had she imagined a lesser, more calm fate when he would find out of her marriage? Not really, but somehow, no matter how much she'd expected this, it hurt just as deeply. To have someone, someone she'd valued above any other, given up her family's approval over, suddenly standing before her and labeling her not much more than a common whore - it was too much. There was many things she could have beared, many words she could have managed to forgive, but not even this could be expected of her.

She was a lady, afterall.

"Tell me, Rhys, did you trade up for a better one? One with money? Are mum and dad just proud as punch? James must have been out of his mind with joy when you dumped the half-blood."

"Still pitying yourself, what a wonder," she remarked icily, her lips tightening especially when she realized he was likening her to a moraless, disgusting social climber. Through clenched teeth, she managed, "Money has never been a concern of mine," and added as a barb when she caught his gaze, "It never is for those who've always had it."

"Why I ever trusted a conniving, selfish woman like you with my heart is beyond me. I'm just disgusted that it took me so much longer than Sebastian to discover the truth about you."

"Shut up!" she cried forcibly, her eyes not quite able to surpress the reflection of pain that shot through her. With her fists clenched at her sides, she found herself incapable of keeping up any pretense of indifference any longer, no, he'd gone much too far then.

"You have no right, no right to judge me, not when you don't know anything about my life anymore," she said as her hands shook when they pushed against him. Her tone lowered as she met his gaze, pulling her will from the last vestige of reserve she had, hoping when she spoke for her words to hurt, meaning for them to hurt.

"And don't you ever speak of my marriage again, Ethan. My husband is nothing like you."

[Haddock Vibe]

Ethan ignored her barb about him pitying himself. He'd long since gotten over his status and had only thrown it at her out of anger as it were. Her next words, though, he only laughed at - if harshly. The last thing he'd ever really cared for was money. Hell, if he'd been living his dream, he'd currently be in Hawai'i lazying about in the afternoon sun, his half-lidded eyes studying the crests of each wave not a cent to his name beyond what he needed to eat and live.

But she wasn't done. Not that he expected her to be. With Rhyssen one always knew that the last word would be forthcoming.

"And don't you ever speak of my marriage again, Ethan. My husband is nothing like you."

His jaw clenched at that. It wasn't marriage or husband that hit him the hardest - though those words coming from her and not referring to him were a stab to his ego like nothing else - it was when she compared him to the damn bastard. He didn't even have the advantage of knowing who the man was so that he could defend himself which only made it so much worse. How could you attack that?

And so he did the only thing he could; the one thing that had always worked for him in the past. He became even more irrational. "Nothing like me is he? Satisfies you with money and platitudes then? Tell me, Rhys," he continued as he backed her up into a row of rat cages, his hand tangling into her curls as his lips brushed against her ear, "the last time he 'made love' to you," he sneered, "did you find yourself wishing to the gods that he was more like me?"

It was a stab in the dark, but his ego wouldn't believe that anyone could satisfy Rhyssen like he had. He knew, damn well, that no woman would ever satisfy him like she had. No matter how long he looked.

[Rhyssen Swanson]

As he backed her up against cages (the hiss of the rats behind her enough to leave her stiff as a board and terrified beyond compare, Rhyssen felt that strange yet familiar tug of excitement rush through her. It had always been like this with them, their relationship's foundation even rested upon this age-old intimidation routine, both of them excited by the notions it presented. It was a mixture of terror and absolute exhiliration, it always had been, and she wondered if she'd ever quite stop being a touch masochistic for not wanting him to let go of her even when she could see how off he was.

Feeling his lips brush against her ear, her chest heaved, a sigh rushing from her lips before she could stop it. It had been far too long since she'd been touched by a man, especially one so skilled in his knowledge of just what always got to her. She could feel the heat radiating from his form, it was heightened by the rage he was gripping her with, and she found her eyes beginning to flutter shut against their own accord.

"The last time he 'made love' to you," he sneered, "did you find yourself wishing to the gods that he was more like me?"

Shuddering at his words, Rhyssen felt her throat tighten as her hand rose to press against her throat in a motion of vulnerable defense. Her eyes burned and she felt every kind thought for the man before her vanish at once when she replied, without thinking, quietly, "I've never been given the oppurtunity to compare, but I doubt I'd ever want him to resemble a crass, despicable cretin as yourself, Ethan Haddock."

Attempting to push him away from her, she jerked suddenly when she felt a gnawing against the back of her robes. Barely surpressing the scream that burst forth, she completely lost it, pushing against Ethan with a degree of manic hysteria that made it obvious that with her erratic breathing and pale skin, she could be fainting any instant then-

And that she did.

[Haddock Vibe]

If he was aware that he'd backed her into her worst nightmare (and no, that wouldn't be something along the lines of her being trapped by him) he didn't show it. All he was aware of was how good it felt to be so close to her again and how it made his heart actually hurt a little less - even as he knew that once the moment was over he'd be so much worse off. So much worse off for having run into her when he least needed to.

And then she dangled a hope before him for all of a moment. She all but admitted that she'd never actually slept with her husband and were he thinking clearly he'd have been completely confused by the idea of it. As it were, her next words only served to piss him off in an entirely new direction.

But before he could so much as utter a retort in return she was pushing at him and a shriek left her.

Panic overtook him in the next instance when she fainted dead away, his arms circling around her instinctively. He couldn't for the life of him figure out just what had happened until his eyes landed on the cages. He felt ill.

Pushing away a customer who'd run to the scene, he scooped Rhyssen up, much to the terror of the shopkeeper who'd been on her way to break up what she thought was quickly becoming an abusive situation. Without so much as a word, he moved Rhyssen out of doors and into the shade of the front of the building, grateful for the cup of water that was pressed to him.

"I've got her," he said, when the cupbearer attempted to assist more. Finally they were left alone and he very gently lifted her head as she lay on the bench. "Rhys? Rhys love? Wake up..."

All anger was temporarily replaced with all the love he wanted to give her - but had been denied for so long.

[Rhyssen Swanson]

With her eyes fluttering slowly apart, Rhyssen's vision was blurred, a muddled voice she couldn't make out soothing her in gentle, coaxing tones. It was then that her breath heaved and she sat up quite suddenly, her eyes shutting tightly as she felt so realistically the gnawing at her back. The terror of not being able to get away coarsed through her once more and left her violently trembling, her arms clutching at her knees to keep herself from losing all semblance of control. Her chest was rising and falling at an erratic rate and she found her eyes finally lifting, her pupils dilated as she saw, but didn't quite comprehend Ethan sitting beside her.

"Oh God, oh God, I couldn't.. get away, they-it, was right there--"

Swallowing tightly as she tried to drag air into her lungs (her chest was feeling as if it was closing in her, so tightened it had become), her hand clutched his own as she felt her pulse slow with the realization that she was all right, that she was safe, then. They were outside, the sun was splaying faintly through the clouds, and there was even cool water held in Ethan's hand beside her. Glancing at him with the only emotion she was able to incite, wariness, she took the offered drink and sipped it before closing her eyes.

Quietly, as if it was painful to say, "Thank you."

[Haddock Vibe]

As the seconds passed, each feeling like hours, he waited for her to come to, his hand smoothing back the curls that he'd loved ever since he'd first glimpsed them. When she sat up, he jumped a bit, the water in the cup sloshing over the edge getting the edge of his sleeve wet. Switching the cup to the other hand, he wiped off the wet one, before slipping a hesitant arm around the shivering witch.

He didn't know what the hell to say, and so only murmured words of comfort came spilling out until she finally looked up and met his eyes.

"Oh God, oh God, I couldn't.. get away, they-it, was right there--"

"They aren't anywhere close, Rhys," he said, though it was hard for him to get the words out seeing as it was his own fault that she'd been forced to deal with the creatures. And then her hand was clutching his own so hard that he found his fingers going numb as he handed her the water with his free hand.

"You're welcome," he returned, the wariness in her voice matched with his own.

He watched, in silence, as she drank her water, taking the empty cup from her when she was done and setting it aside. It was only then that he realized he was still holding her hand and it took all his willpower to take his hand from her own.

"I just have to know one thing," he managed to choke out, after the single most uncomfortable moment of silence he'd ever spent in the presence of Rhyssen. "Are you happy? Is he good to you?"

Okay, so it was more than one thing. And his voice cracked as he spoke. He couldn't tear his eyes from her face, though.

"I just...I always thought...I hoped..." he shook his head, dragging a hand through his hair and closing his eyes, it suddenly being far too painful for him to look at her. "Just tell me that you're really happy, Rhys. That's all I care about. It's all I ever did."

[Rhyssen Swanson]

"I just have to know one thing," he managed to choke out, after the single most uncomfortable moment of silence he'd ever spent in the presence of Rhyssen. "Are you happy? Is he good to you?"

She couldn't look at him, couldn't bring herself to reach out for his hand when she heard the pain in his voice, no matter how much she knew she should have been doing so. It was the most she could have been doing, consoling him, but as the words he'd cursed at her inside the shop returned to her, faint color flushed her cheeks instead. No, he didn't quite deserve sympathy, did he? No matter how awful it may have been for learning the way he had, he had had no right to treat her like that. Especially not in public.

"He's very good to me," she found heself saying quietly, and though it was nothing but the truth, a part of her wished to lie to him. No matter how much he begged for her to tell him she was happy, she knew that he was just like her - if one was miserable, it was comfort strangely that the other was, as well.

"Just tell me that you're really happy, Rhys. That's all I care about. It's all I ever did."

Her throat closed in at that, and she suddenly wished that she could find a way to leave before she was forced to answer him. She was content, she told herself daily, it was perfectly normal to be restless, to feel a lack sometimes - afterall, Felix and she's relationship hadn't taken the complete form that most couples usually did. She had thought herself to be fine with that, for it to not be a big deal, but what she'd felt in that shop when Ethan drew her against him, what's she'd remembered with such a rush-

She knew she'd been kidding herself.

Finding that this angered her more than anything else, especially since his near proximity was painful now that she was suddenly acutely aware of what her life had been doing without for the last year, Rhyssen snapped at him angrily when she turned his way, "Why? Why would you like to know, Ethan? So you can throw it into my face? Call me a whore again? Gods, the idea of me being satisfied by someone else just kills you, doesn't it?"

Lifting her chin as her gaze narrowed on his, she evenly continued with a glint in her eyes. She would make him hurt just as much as he had made her, he deserved as much.

Beneath a whisper, "It kills you to think of him touching me all night, doesn't it? His hands on me in the most intimate of manners - tell me, Ethan, can you imagine it?"

[Haddock Vibe]

As much as he wanted to hear she was happy, he wanted to hear she was miserable. Only if she were miserable could he keep a spark of hope alive. Not even miserable. If she were anything but one hundred percent happy, he'd be able to hope.

"Why? Why would you like to know, Ethan? So you can throw it into my face? Call me a whore again? Gods, the idea of me being satisfied by someone else just kills you, doesn't it?"

"Damn it, Rhys," he said, his own voice growing angry again, "can't you ever answer a damn question wit-"

"It kills you to think of him touching me all night, doesn't it? His hands on me in the most intimate of manners - tell me, Ethan, can you imagine it?"

Her words cut him off and what she spoke next - he forgot all sense of propriety. Or most of it. He had a hand gripped tightly around her upper arm as he hauled her to her feet and around the corner before he was shoving her into the brick wall of the tiny alleyway. "If he satisfies you so damn much, Rhys," he spoke in a hiss, "then why the hell are you looking at me like that?" he demanded. Even through their anger, he could see it. That hunger that lurked as much in his own eyes as it did in hers.

[Rhyssen Swanson]

Her eyes closed when he pushed her into the wall, the feel of his body molding agaist her own enough to make her feel heady with pleasure. She was trying to memorize every detail of it, every single nerve that tingled in her, to every defined muscle in him as he held her along himself. It was too good, too much of what she needed for reason to enter even a single bit into her consciousness. She could only feel, it had been far too long since she hadn't.

Her eyes. hooded with desire and longing, though she couldn't know it, held his own as her mouth felt itself go dry. It was as if they were in Hogwarts all over again, slipping into a broom closet between classes because they couldn't bear to keep their hands off each other, their bare skin apart, any longer. It was insatiable, undeniable, as it had always been, and most of all, she forgot, just as she always had, everything else that had mattered until that point.

It was only him.

"If he satisfies you so damn much, Rhys," he spoke in a hiss, "then why the hell are you looking at me like that?"

Her hand slipped along the front of his shirt, her finger tracing lazily while her gaze fell away for a second only to lift once more to his own. She wet her lips without thinking, her fingers finally coming to touch the skin at his collarbone, and she found herself murming, her voice laced with need, "Touch me, Ethan.. please."

Closing her eyes, she arched delicately into him, "Just once."

[Haddock Vibe]

It was like asking a man in the desert to not drink when she spoke, when her body pressed up against his of her own will. His chest heaved as he tried to draw in a breath of pure air, but all he could draw in was the lust that had grown around them in the space of a few heartbeats.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew this was wrong. Knew that once Rhyssen's mind cleared that she'd regret this moment, but he couldn't have held off now if she begged him. He needed her far too much.

Crushing her to him, his lips possessed her own the hunger in him leading the charge. His hands slipped along the curves covered by her robes before he was seeking entrance; demanding satisfaction.

His mouth broke, at last, from her own only to hunt down those trails and spots on her neck where he knew he could elicit a shiver or a moan. Fingers found their way past clasps and skin was at last touching skin. He groaned against her throat, inhaling her scent in the next instant. Gods, he'd almost forgotten how much he needed her. How she and she alone could make him feel complete even when he was lost in nothing more than a kiss with her.

His fingers continued their journey along her bare waist, his lips once more demanding her own. He wasn't even aware of the distant sounds of Hogsmeade anymore. His entire world consisted of nothing but the woman pressed against him at the moment. Were life to end around them, he couldn't have been persauded to pull away.

[Rhyssen Swanson]

Gasping when his mouth descended upon hers almost immediatly after she'd whispered for him to touch her, Rhyssen felt the ache inside of her intensify at the feel of his lips manuevering so incredibly over her own. As his hands tightened around her, fingers edging beneath robes in search of skin, it was all she could do to keep herself from stripping them of their clothes all together, so mind-blowing was the desire to feel him against herself, over herself.. in herself. There was something to be said of absitence, something to be said of hands familiar in pleasing and prolonging and teasing descending upon her once more after such a time, never had she felt herself capable of death, than in that instance. She would have gladly accepted death had it meant that she could feel his hands roaming over every inch of her skin, if only for one single solitary moment.

Her lips eased against his own, her teeth clutching his bottom lip as her eyes, hooded as they were, slid open to hold his gaze. They slid back shut when his head bent and his mouth worked than over her throat, and she could do nothing to hold back the moan of appreciation, "Gods, yes.. Ethan, please..."

With her fingers dragging against the row of buttons at the front of his shirt, she coaxed her tongue against his in a tantalizingly slow discovery, her hands working deftly to part his shirt. She didn't hesitate to slide her hands against his bare skin, her nails raking just lightly before she was moving her mouth away from his own and dropping her head with a shudder of desire. Tasting and teasing as she breathed in the intoxicating smell of him, her lips moved down his chest, teeth scraping and leaving marks against his skin while her hands, busy as they were, fell lower to glide just above his belt.

She could think of nothing further than the man pressed against her.