She was going to throw up. Rose already could feel the bile gathering in the back of her throat, and there was no way in stopping it, only temporarily postponing it. Yes, truly, it was a trying effort on her part to withhold herself, only made more difficult with every passing second that Octavius stood before her, holding his hand out for her to grasp. Surely, surely this was another trick, did boggarts work like that? No, of course they did not, because when it came to reality, it was always much scarier than anything else.
Her face heated up significantly as she lingered on the ground for a few more moments. How utterly lovely she must have looked, sprawled across the ground like a whimpering fool. Yes, exactly the kind of message she had hoped to send him after all these months. Any strength that had returned to her earlier quickly vanished again, so it was with a shaky and tentative grip that she took Octavius' hand.
"I--" Her attempt at speech was just as astounding as her current wit, perception of reality, and internal balance. Rose nodded her head quickly, using the time to swallow down as much anxiety as she could. "Thank you," she murmured, gaze lowered. She certainly could not look him in the eye, so instead took it upon herself to glance around this maze of horrors (that had suddenly become suspiciously empty). Nothing, and no one, had shown up besides Octavius, leaving them alone in this dark corner.
"I don't---" Rose looked down, and realized she had yet to unclench her death grip on Octavius's hand. She hastily released him. "I don't know what I was thinking."
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