It's not like any other love | Sebastian Sallow x Reader

Chapter 4

Sebastian stared at the canopy over his bed, fingers braided together behind his head, as he tried to fall asleep. His feet rested crossed at the ankles, swinging nervously side-to-side. It would have been too dark to see at all, but he had his wand out by his side, shining gently with Lumos, resting by his leg. He felt like there was so much he wanted to do, but could not name any of it, and whatever he set his mind upon dissatisfied him. He wasn't in the mood for reading, didn't feel like sneaking out, didn't feel like talking with Ominis, and yet he felt so ill at ease...

He turned on his side, hugging the pillow and wrapping his leg over the blankets. He stared at the shadows on the bed curtains as they danced in the light of his wand, serpentine shapes in green and black slipping between the folds.

The light dimmed once the wand was away from his grasp for too long, and his eyes closed sleepily. His mind wandered. He thought immediately of Anne, of what she would be doing then — probably trying to sleep as well, if the curse allowed it, trying not to wake up Uncle Solomon, probably feeling cold and alone, left to wait for the inevitable in their little house in disrepair... Sebastian so badly wished he could be there with her, to comfort her, at least, if he could not cure her. To give her hope... He'd managed that, sometimes, in the first few weeks after the curse, but then their Uncle battered against his hopes and dreams, and those of Anne as well. Sebastian was by now very familiar with anger, but underneath that felt hopeless, and sad, and alone, all of which were worse than any other feeling as far as he was concerned.

The darkness of the boy's dorm room felt safe. It was perhaps the only safe place he had left, aside from the Undercroft. Sebastian turned over to his back and stared into it, hoping it would swallow him whole. His mind felt crowded with thoughts that slipped between the folds of his mind before he could catch them, so he allowed the darkness to do what it wanted with them, his memories and his conscience and his imagination all swirling together.

He thought back to when he and Anne used to be children before they started school. Life used to be so good when their parents still lived, when days ran uneventfully one into the other, and they were all together in that little house in Feldcroft. It was so easy to sleep then, even during summer storms or on a rainy autumn night, even in the dead of winter with the wind howling outside... Whenever he had trouble sitting still, like now, or if he or Anne would have a nightmare, they would call out to each other in whispers and one twin would crawl through the dark into the other's bed. The most peaceful nights were the ones when he fell asleep hugging her, and even if they sometimes kicked each other and smothered one another in their sleep, being together made both of them feel safe. But those nights were far away now, perhaps never to return.

In his bed at Hogwarts, Sebastian wrapped his arms tighter around the pillow, imagining it was his sister, and that she was sleeping too, and feeling peaceful and at ease and that there was no pain inside her. His back hurt from the hard dormitory bed, but his mind was too caught up in these half-memories half-dreams for him to care. Instead, he just hugged the pillow tighter until his face was buried in it and he could trick himself into thinking that was really Anne, and she was safe.

The bed felt warmer, softer, and he felt less alone, and for fleeting instants, the old reality and the new melded in Sebastian's head. The Anne in his arms was all grown up, and every moment was shadowed by the expectation that the curse would strike again. His arms tightened instinctively, protectively around her, ready to hold her when she cried in pain, afraid for her, angry with the world, and very very tired. He twitched awake as the memory of a sharp scream pierced through his memory, back to the disappointing and lonely reality. The wand had rolled to somewhere beneath him, poking at his leg. He leaned back to search for it, put it on the bedside table, then closed his bleary eyes again and went back to dreaming.