Sins of the Father | Sebastian x OFC (Caroline Rookwood) | Ominis x Garreth

Memories and Celebrations

Sebastian

**

Spring—3rd Year

There were many reasons someone could give as to why Sebastian and Anne had a penchant for mischief and Sebastian was ready with a simple reason—it was fun. But underneath all the fun, he and Anne simply wanted to highlight the simple moments. After all, with the death of their parents—they both clung to each other, reminiscing all the memories in the short time they had with them—the birthdays, the holidays, and the many trips to different libraries. Sebastian knew however, that they missed the memories in between the most—the simplicity of being tucked in, of being read, of sharing meals, and learning together. Memories—any memories were always worthy of celebration.

Busy, absorbed, faltering—were the words he would describe the sudden states of his fingers as they clutched a quill, poised near Caroline's face as she breathed softly, her eyes moving behind her lids as she dreamt.

This was the first she had fallen asleep in History of Magic, finally succumbing to the lull and bore of Professor Binn's voice. He had stifled a yawn as he spotted her, head tucked in her arm over her book, quill askew, and leaning against Anne. He bit his cheek as he reached for his quill, intent to commemorate the moment by drawing on her face, when the afternoon sun peeked behind the clouds through the stain glass windows of the room.

The normally brown, cold, and dusty classroom with old forgotten figures peering from the windows burst with a warmth of light, the dust from old books and tables flickering and sparkling through the air like pixie dust.

"You've gone stiff, Sebastian—you alright?"

He jolted at the sound of Ominis' voice next to him, "Erm... yes. Sorry—just trying to figure what I should draw on Caroline's face?"

"Her face? What? Is she—"

"Asleep? ...Yeah," he moved his hand slightly, a drop of ink spilling on the wooden desk below as he stared.

"So? What's she look like?" Ominis asked softly.

"Well... obviously, she's got long blonde hair and green eyes," The eyes that normally bore into his, challenging him in silence when she was awake were rolling in her sleep. "She's grown taller over the summer but she's still a head shorter than me obviously," She was the perfect height to tower over, to peer into her new novels as she read silently. And certainly, short enough that her look of reproach with her head held high after he read above her in silly voices was enough to make him laugh.

"She's pretty enough—" 'Pretty'? 'Enough'? The words had fallen before he could catch them, his brows furrowed as his eyes raked across her form, "Pale skin, rosy cheeks... soft looking lips..."

There was an array of colors splashing across Caroline's face, the mismatched shapes and patterns of red, yellow, and blue light dotting her skin like a marred painting. He should have laughed, traced the shapes in further with his quill—but was too stunned in his study of the contrasting colors against her face. He had never thought what color she liked best or what other colors she could wear besides green—after all, green did match her eyes. But the shades of blue complemented her calm nature, caressing her cheek as she breathed. Yellow danced between the knit of her brows and lids of her eyes—a testament to her happy disposition. And red? He swallowed thickly, his gaze hovering across the pout and twitch of her red lips as the rays of the sun prodded at her, trying its best to wake her. Red... he thought, looked too bewitching and tempting.

"So... she's beautiful?"

"She's..." 'More'... more beautiful than just her golden locks as bright and soft as a summer's day and more beautiful than her eyes that sparkled brighter than all the stars. She was beautiful when she scrunched her nose when she laughed. She was beautiful when her eyes would widen at each sip of his earl grey—the only earl grey she would ever drink, she proclaimed. She was beautiful with the puff of her cheeks and red of her nose when she was sick and unwell. And she was beautiful during her quiet studies, brows knitting as she read anything and everything, "She's... Caroline."