The sound of his voice had her jumping, whirling around, fumbling with the ring box as if to hide it before nerves made clumsy of her fingers and she nearly dropped it. Why was he home so soon?
"Oh, my—" Rachel pressed a fist to her racing heart, unsure of if she should be contrite at being caught, annoyed at having been taken by surprise, or just… confused, as she always seemed to be now. "You startled to me," she said, and though it was a statement, sounded a bit uncertain. Something about him made her do that on reflex, and that response was not something she cared for. It was the same thing that had spooked her about him in the hospital. As she studied him for a moment, she couldn't say his demeanor was all that threatening—although, perhaps now wasn't the best time to judge. Gabriel looked quite wild now, but there was an air of civility and reserve around him, always. In fact, Rachel had a difficult time equating him with the good-looking boy of her younger acquaintance. Now, he was refined, hardened, more robust—carried himself differently too, she'd thought. A more mature stride. But then, the last time she'd seen him had been when she was all of sixteen, in the throes of life at Hogwarts.
Well, no… that wasn't right at all, was it? The last time she had seen Gabriel was the day this dark magic wound leeching her memories had been inflicted. This same train of thought must have been run over a hundred times in the last two weeks, but it was the first time she felt the sadness like a blow. There was so much missing to this story, she despaired at ever filling in all the blanks.
Clearing her throat, she chose to ignore his question, and instead held out the box for him, saying, "Either your lover has excellent taste, or I ruined a good surprise for myself," realizing she was only somewhat joking. Really, what did she know? Her eyes fell from his face again, studying the intricate pattern of the rug in front of the bed she was most certainly not acknowledging now.
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