𝒂𝒎𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒅𝒂𝒎･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒊𝒊𝒊.

iii.

I sat at and watched Boris "cook" for a while, which was somehow hilarious— he pulled a box of chicken noodle soup from his groceries, "Don't look at me like that. Very complicated. Did you expect me to make a whole buffet?"— and we put on the television which had been streaming Christmas movies all day. The Santa Clause played as background noise while we ate on the small couch.

Finishing his bowl before me, he placed it down on a box sitting in front of us that was acting as a table. "Who needs furniture anyway?" He said, then looked to me. "You feeling better?"

"I guess."

"It's been a long week. I'm sorry I made you wait so long."

This took me a bit by surprise. I looked over at him to meet his gaze, "No, it's fine, really." I finished my meal and put it down next to Boris'. After an uncomfortable amount of silence I said something else, "I didn't think you were coming back."

"You thought I would leave you, to rot in a hotel room after everything?" He laughed, "Listen, I am still so sorry for everything— no let me finish. I am so sorry. It was huge mistake that obviously, well, it effected us both and— and I will do anything to get your trust back Potter, I swear."

Looking at Boris, I realized how much I did trust him, and how strange that would appear to most. He's still in fact, probably one of the only people I truly trust on this entire planet.

"Bullshit." I let out a laugh for the first time in a while.

He looked confused, "What? It's—"

"No no, Boris. I trust you. As weird as it is— this whole thing— it's like," I held out both my hands for a demonstration, "It went from here, and then, for a bit all the way down," I signaled a long loss of trust, but Boris looked at me dumbfounded.

"I don't understand. You're saying one thing but showing another."

"No, listen. Before you showed up, I thought you were gone forever. Everything we had done was for nothing. But— stop fucking interrupting!" We we're both laughing now, I felt like I was dreaming. everything around me was so hazy and funny at the same time, and i was almost completely sober, an odd occurrence, "It's like when you showed up, all that lost trust, it was gained in a way." I moved my hands trying to get my point across but it seemed to be confusing him even more.

"So by stealing your bird, you trust me more— is what you're saying," He smiled tauntingly.

"I don't know. Yes?"

"Well, like I said. Good can from from bad things. It was all out of love!" He got up from the couch quickly, "Let's celebrate. If you're up for it."

He came back with two glasses and a bottle of champagne. "Of course."

"Happy Christmas Potter," He filled them up and handed one to me. "Here's to many more."

We toasted and I took a swig of the drink. We were silent for a little while after, but it was pleasurable.

Once I finished my champagne I spoke up, "Boris, what have you really been up to? All these years—"

"Hmm? I told you." He appeared startled by this, "It was fucked up time but I survived. Life when on, I got by."

When I didn't respond he continued with a more dim tone, "The bird. I know how awful it feels to have it, sitting in the dark. A burden you can't seem to ever get rid of. It just sits there as a reminder," He wasn't looking at me anymore, instead he was pouring himself another glass. When he looked right back at me, he said sadly,

"It hurts."

~~~