Delilah slammed her journal shut. She didn’t understand why she was so-- so angry. She grabbed her coat and was over at Rich’s place seconds later. She lifted her hand to knock on the door, then froze. She pursed her lips digging in her purse to find the key she had been given for Christmas. She hadn’t used it yet. It actually still made her heart race when she held it her hand. Honestly she had been avoiding the whole thing since he had given her.

In fact, if anyone was really paying attention, she was quite careful to show up when the key wouldn’t be needed at all. Plus a few things of hers that she had left behind over the past few months may or may not have found themselves back her closet. Except his gifts of course. Those were plainly used and strewn about his flat. All of this was getting very serious very fast and Delilah was doing her best to deal.

And then the whole thing on New Year’s Eve happened. Delilah felt so guilty. And not just because of the kiss. It wasn’t just the matter of this guy kissing her, it was that she liked it. She didn’t immediately push him away and set him straight. She wasn’t offended that he thought it was okay to kiss her. The panic attack afterwards was enough to scare her off from ever using this key.

She tried the knob. Locked. She bit her lip looking between the key, the door, and hall. She should go. She just count her blessings and let things lie. She kissed some ginger quidditch player and he kissed.. well he kissed Nona Pepper, but in the grand scheme of things everything should just cancel out and go away. Delilah should just tell him that everything was okay. That they should just forget about it.

But Rich didn’t blame her at all. Not even the slightest bit of anger or blame. Delilah should feel lucky! Rich trusted her and wasn’t at all jealous. But he should be! He should be angry, like she was angry at him for kissing Eight’s sister. He painted her like she was perfect and she could do no wrong, and while perhaps some might like that, it made Delilah feel a bit trapped. She was not perfect. She made mistakes all the time. Sometimes huge ones. This was definitely something they needed to talk about.

Taking a deep breath she unlocked the door sticking his head in tentatively. “Rich?” Delilah called walking in. “Rich, are you home?”

Pacing and pacing, Rich walked back and forth across the room as the journal that was laid open on his desk stared him down. He knew Delilah was upset with him and she had every right to never want to see him again, but Rich was panicked. He wasn’t bonkers for Delilah -- he was in love with Delilah. He never had the nerve to tell her and he wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to now without it feeling like he was putting a guilt trip on her. She didn’t need another burden. The wizarding media had given her enough of that already.

Still, Rich couldn’t simply let go of Delilah like it was what he deserved -- well, it was what he deserved, but Rich saw so much in Delilah that he wanted to cling to any hope of saving their relationship. Admittedly, Rich was a sap and a romantic, and those two things drove most of his dreams and hopes for a future with Delilah. Romance wasn’t all he saw in their future, though. He saw children, he saw grandchildren, and he saw Delilah.

The replies he’d made to her last journal message were numerous and they were all crossed out. He wanted to go to her, have her come to him, or meet her somewhere, anywhere just to talk and tell her again that he’d never, ever, not in his entire life had he ever done something like he did on New Year’s Eve. Then, suddenly, Delilah was calling his name and Rich thought he was losing his mind until he peeked out of the bedroom and saw her head peeking around his front door. If anyone had ever thought their jaw might actually hit the floor, it was Rich, right then.

“Delilah?” he prompted in a tight voice as he rushed to the door to hold it open for her. He was stunned that she was here and she’d let herself in. There was literally not one reason he could come up with for her to do such things, but he was somehow grateful all the same. “Did you -- did you want to talk?” he stammered softly before swallowing back more earnest words as he shut the door behind her.

Rich let the fact that this was the first time that she’d used the key go unsaid because well, now really wasn’t the time to bring that up because what if she was just doing it to hand it right back to him? He expected as much, but he’d still be devastated.

Turning back to her, Rich tried not to look at his shoes like a child who’d been caught. Looking at her face, though, made the guilty feeling worse and that same guilt was wrought in his anxious expression as he waited for her response. His hands squeezed the tails of his plaid button down as waited, nearly teetering with anticipation of what she’d say.

Delilah bristled slightly as he rushed over to hold open the door and brushed past him. She was not a dainty princess that needed doors held open for her. Especially when this was exactly when doors should be slamming and shouting matches were to be had. And then he was just standing looking like he was waiting for her to yell. It made Delilah what to scream and just give him a hug at the same time.

Richard House confused all her emotions and she did not like it at all.

“You kissed Nona Pepper!” She accused loudly. “You kissed Nona Pepper when you should have been kissing me! I was looking for you and you weren’t anywhere because you were busy kissing the baby Pepper who isn’t allowed to be kissed! I want to be angry about that so badly. But I can’t. I can’t because instead of kissing you, I was off kissing a very fit quidditch bloke and didn’t even think about you until afterwards.”

There were tears already welling in her eyes. “Why aren’t you mad at me! Why aren’t you yelling or something. Anything! It’s not like this hasn’t happened before. Scott didn’t yell either. He just left the country. You should be mad at me too! What is even the point of all of this, if you aren’t even upset that I kissed someone else?” Her chest was heaving a bit by the end of her rant. She didn’t even know why she was here, begging him to fight with her. But if felt so important. Getting angry meant you felt something. Delilah was a fighter at heart, and she was fierce about the things she cared about. And if Rich was just going to turn a blind eye to this whole debacle, then didn’t that imply that he didn’t care? That she wasn’t even worth fighting for?

“You should be angry with me and you are not.” she let out, tears finally falling over.

Rich dropped his gaze, flinched, and lost his breath when Delilah shouted. He already felt horrible for what he’d done -- albeit he still had no idea why he’d felt compelled to do such a thing -- but Delilah yelling and getting angry was enough to make him want to flee so she didn’t have to deal with his faults anymore. Delilah didn’t deserve this kind of treatment and she definitely didn’t deserve to feel like she couldn’t be upset with him. She should be.

Lips parting to take a pained breath, Rich shifted on his feet and let her keep going. She needed to get it all out and he needed to listen because there was no way he was ever going to get her back if he didn’t listen. The things she said were troubling and confusing, and he tried to process them, but she kept going, going, going until she’d started to cry. Then he really felt horrid.

“I’m not angry because I don’t get angry,” he explained as the ache of seeing her tears radiated from his chest out to his extremities and put pain in his bones. “You have every right to be mad at me and you should be. What happened -- I can’t explain because I still don’t understand, but that doesn’t excuse me from consequence.”

Rich sighed, tight and short, before taking a step toward her. He wanted comfort her so badly if she would let him. “I’m not mad at you and I’m not mad at him. I’m just...sad and upset, and now I’m sadder because I knew he kissed you, but I didn’t know that you -- you liked it.” He finished with a quake in his voice.

There was probably something else to be said about Delilah’s revelation, but Rich was hung up on her enjoying that kiss. He’d been very much into kissing another woman, but he remembered quite clearly saying that he wanted to show her how he’d kiss Delilah, which was completely inexplicable considering he didn’t even know Ms. Pepper.

“Delilah,” he began softly, still wanting to comfort her and just put his hands to her face to wipe away those tears, “what we did doesn’t cancel each other out -- not by a longshot, but I’m not going to leave you over a kiss. We’re stronger than a kiss, aren’t we? Tell me to bugger off if you want, but I’m not going anywhere until you do.”

Delilah cried harder as he wiped away her tears. She didn’t get it. She didn’t understand why he was still being so nice to her when she had messed up again. Were they stronger than a kiss? Wasn’t that how all this started? With a drunken kiss at a party. Obviously, it was becoming a habit of hers, and she didn’t even know how to respond. She wasn’t even sure how she felt. She did know that is pained her that she had made Rich sad. She didn’t want to be the cause of that. “I am so so sorry. I didn’t-- It wasn’t like the other time. I was looking for you,” she repeated.

She felt like she wasn’t cut out to be in a lasting relationship. That she was too flighty, and got distracted way too easily. She was sure she couldn’t handle going through this again. Perhaps it would be best she just walk away, let him find someone who was so much better at being a girlfriend. Except she couldn’t, the mere thought of it made her chest tighten. She clutched the key she was still holding in her hand because even though most of the time it terrified her, she couldn’t even imagine giving it back.

He said all of that now, but what about in five months when she forgot their anniversary. Or if she decided that going to a duel was more important that a romantic date on Valentine’s day. Or when she forgot something else that was important to him. There was no way he could be this understanding always. But even still, she wanted to keep hold of what she had, while she had it.

“I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want--” she flailed a bit searching for a word, “I don’t want this to be over.”

That was enough -- Rich had heard enough because for all the grief that Delilah caught for the past, she’d never given him a reason to doubt how she felt about him. Yes, his breath had caught in a pause when she’d said that she’d enjoyed kissing someone else, but what had he really expected her to say? He made her immune to a good snog that wasn’t with him? One that she hadn’t even initiated? That wasn’t remotely realistic or sane. She was human, after all, and a strong, independent woman at that. She wasn’t his pet or his slave -- such a thought was revolting to him.

“It’s all right,” Rich said with soft, insistent reassurance as he thumbed away new tears. His warm hands cupped her face, even as she waved about, and kept her looking at him. “Delilah, it’s all right. I’m not going anywhere.”

Rich ached -- chest, throat, shoulders, arms -- when he saw that panicked look in her eyes. She thought she was going to lose him -- them? No, no, absolutely not. He was the one that was supposed to be scared! This wasn’t what he’d been prepared for at all. Delilah Spinnet was a champion duelist and she absolutely did not need this sort of worry -- that he would turn away so quickly from her. That sort of break in confidence was supposed to be reserved for lowly folk such as himself and -- Gods, he was such an idiot, wasn’t he?

“You make mistakes, Delilah,” Rich blurted in earnest and gripped her shoulders, “a lot of them. I know because others are so quick to remind me.” He shook his head in frustration and his hands dropped, only to squeeze hers. “But you’re not just made of your mistakes and they are far from being the only thing I see when I look at you.” He paused because he felt the heat in his face that would have him weep to make her understand him. “If that were the case -- if that was all I saw in you, I wouldn’t have fallen for you in the way that I have.”

Sighing, he winced before glancing up at her with sad eyes. “I’m sorry, too, all right? But ‘sorry’ doesn’t begin to cover how awful I feel,” he said it all in such a breathless voice because his chest felt so tight. He rubbed slow, asymmetrical circles over the back of her hands with his thumbs. “I thought it’d be an insult to say such a simple word of apology for what I’ve done.”

Delilah sniffled letting him wipe away her tears. A small flame of anger flared up when he said people reminded him of her mistakes. Who would do that? True or not, that was just not something nice to do. But then his other words caught up with her, and oh. Oh. Was he saying what she thought he was saying.

She nodded at his apology. “No. It’s not an insult. It’s just what I needed to hear,” Delilah said swallowing thickly burying her face in his shirt. “All of it.”

She just stood there for a few moments. Breathing, thinking, trying to figure out what was suppose to happen next. Delilah pulled back a bit, “I don’t want you to feel awful. Please don’t feel awful.” she said keeping her grip on his shirt. She didn’t know what else to say. They were both sorry, they both regretted what they did. “I’m sorry. So sorry. Can we just-- I don’t know.” Her arm fluttered a bit, at a loss. She felt like she should say something in response to him telling her that he had fallen for her. But she couldn’t form the words. Any words at all

“Can I stay?” The question felt silly, but at the same time it felt necessary. All she wanted to do was curl up on his couch and listen to the wireless, maybe eat unhealthy takeout. “Get food, just sit and put this all behind us?” She finally looked up to his face, her eyes shifting between his, tugging on his shirt a bit. “Let’s not feel awful anymore.”

Breath hitching, Rich caught Delilah as she face-planted against his chest, which ached in response to the sudden affection. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed as he rested his chin against her hair. Thankfully, she pulled back before straightening up or she could’ve clocked in his jaw with her head and knocked him dizzy. Well, he still felt a little dazed with how this was turning out. When Delilah had shown up at his door, Rich had feared the worst -- that she wouldn’t want to see him anymore.

Rich gave her an adoring look when she asked if she could stay. “Of course, you can stay,” he replied as he untangled them from each other so he could help her out of her coat. Rich laid the coat on a chair and came back to take her hand. “You can stay anytime you want, as long as you want,” he continued as he led her to the couch and encouraged her to sit. He paused to smile at her before he got a thick blanket from a cedar chest and brought it with him as he sat down next to her. Leaning over, he gave her a soft kiss and turned away to throw open the blanket.

“And unless you want to jab me with it for good measure,” Rich began in a pointed mutter as he dragged the blanket around them and settled into the couch, holding Delilah. “You can put the key away. There’s no more locks for you to find on me.”