Beasts Within Us | Newt Scamander

23. Confliction.

Esther leans against her kitchen counter. The crunching of Beans' kibble fills the silence of the apartment. Her fingers tap the counter as she grows restless. She glances down at her feline and notices him looking up at her licking his lips. His bowl sits empty.

"You going to stay here or greet Mr.Scamander's beasts?" She asks her companion.

The cat slinks towards her and purrs against her bare ankles. A genuine smile cracks on her face as she kneels to scoop him up. She places him on the loveseat as she stares down the open case. Before taking a step into the darkness of the leather box, her eyes flash at the picture of the dark-skinned beauty that she saw the first time she went into his case.

A fickle frown forms as she ignores the sinking in her chest. She emerges into the case in hopes of a change of heart. Caws, roars, and flutters grow louder as she continues down until her heel touches a flat surface. She stands in the hut while her eyes shift throughout it. She sees at his pile of papers that sit next to a typewriter. She focuses on the large printed word 'Thunderbird' at the head of the page. Her fingers trace the embossed letters then slide down to the charcoal sketch of Franks' face. The details are sloppy but accurate. The tips of her fingers trace the edge of the page. She flips it up to view the other pages beneath it. A few pages later something catches her eye. A description is written on the end corner of a page not pertaining to what the original topic.

'Grey eyes. Like ripples of the ocean. The calm before the storm. Radiant. Reckless yet meticulous. Uncouth in execution, but a strong sense of justice. Lacks confidence; apprehensive. Needs improvement. Full of potential. Paroxysmal, fidgety behaviors when nervous. Easily triggered. Self-inflicted habits. Ravishing smile. The most exquisite creature I have yet to meet.'

Her brows crinkle. What is this? She hears foot steps approaching her and she jumps impulsively.

"My apologies. Didn't mean to frighten you." The wizard says wiping his forehead with a damp cloth.

She's engrossed at his change of demeanor. She hasn't seen him without his peacock coat and is taken aback. His extremities are long and thin which match his slim figure. His yellow vest is open exposing the unbuttoned collared shirt that seems to swallow him. She blinks, breaking her stare from him.

"Is there something on my face?" He asks withdrawing the cloth.

He flashes a crooked, awkward smile. She couldn't help but giggle back at him.

"No, no. Your face is," she stops and licks her lips, "My face is what?" He presses.

She shakes her head.

"Nothing."

She stares at the floorboards then glances up at the documents.

"What are these? Are they for your book?" She questions.

His eyes glisten and steps closer to her to fixate on his work over the last eighteen months.

"You remember?" He smiles.

She nods sharing a smile with him.

"Of course! Your work is... Spectacular. I love the sketch you did of Frank." She says.

Silence.

"Do you miss him? Frank?" She asks.

His brows drop and smile fades.

"Yes. Very much." He responds with sadness.

She traces her thumb over his sketch admiring the intricate details. The chipped beak, dazzling designs on the feathers and even lines of lightning in his eyes. Her curiosity grew.