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No Good at Goodbyes

Ophelia sighed as she looked at her clothes in her wardrobe and various other things strewn about the cabin. It wasn't a mess by any means, but suddenly she felt as though she had far too many things. She had stayed with Charlie last night, not wanting to think about the fact that she was going back to England today. They had been up half the night, talking or sometimes just holding each other. All the while, managing to put off the fact that she was leaving.

But she could no longer avoid it. Her portkey was that afternoon and she'd have a difficult time making it as it was if she didn't get to work packing up her things.

It wasn't like her to leave such tasks to the last minute, but she blamed that on Charlie. He had been very good at distracting her the last few days. At first, he was waiting on her hand and foot until she finally shouted that Colonel hadn't eaten her arm and she could use it. Then, when they weren't working, they went out to all the various dragons that Ophelia had helped with so she could tell them her good-byes.

Rupert and Colonel had been particularly difficult, but Charlie assured her that soon Rupert would be back out on his own and doing just fine. And that once Hebrides was up and running - as he was convinced she'd get that going in record time (Ophelia wasn't so sure herself) - he would help deliver Colonel back home.

But... Ophelia knew that part of her didn't want to leave Romania. Not yet. Sometimes she'd daydream about quitting her job at the Ministry and getting a job as a tamer here. But then she'd shake that off, reminding herself about Hebrides.

However, Ophelia was certain she'd leave a part of her here when she left. And while she told herself it was the country and the dragons, she knew more than anything it was because of Charlie.

"Ah good, you do need help."

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Ophelia turned, smiling as Charlie walked into the cabin, looking around at her things.

"Ye sure that ye're here to help?" she asked playfully as he walked up and pulled her into his arms. "Rather, I'm certain ye've been helpin' me avoid it."

"I've helped you all week after you got burned," he said, frowning down at her. Ophelia chuckled slightly, then worried at how her brothers were going to react to that. Maybe she could hide her scar and never tell them.

"True... but lately ye've kept me at yers when we're no workin'," she said, raising an eyebrow at him. Charlie sighed.

"Yes, yes, we can't let you miss your portkey this afternoon, can we?" he said, though she could hear the glum note in his voice despite his smile.

"Aye, 'tis true," she said softly.

He stepped back and cupped her face, staring down into her eyes for a moment before kissing her deeply. It took her breath away and for a few moments all Ophelia could think of was that she didn't want this to end. Forget her portkey. She wanted to stay in Romania forever with Charlie. They could eventually take over the reserve when Elena and Andrei retired. It painted a happy picture in her mind, though the seriousness of it shocked her.

Ophelia had never really thought of staying with someone long-term, but there was no denying it now. She wanted to be with Charlie for as long as she could.

But then the logical side of her brain kicked in and reminded her that she had to go back. If she didn't, who would deliver the reports on Hebrides? Help the powers that be get it up and running? That was the whole point of coming here, was it not? To learn how the Romanian sanctuary was run so that they could hopefully replicate that in Hebrides.

So, with great reluctance, she placed her hands on his chest and pushed him away, smiling sadly up at him.

"Keep that up and I'm sure to miss my portkey," she said breathlessly. Charlie chuckled and then looked around the room.