May 20th, 1922.
London, United Kingdom.
Theseus Scamander's house.

Five months since New Year's events in New York. Our Aurors stayed there for two weeks together, sharing a hotel bedroom, moving from neighbourhood to neighbourhood helping Tina Goldstein fight Grindelwald's acolytes and surges of Dark Magic around the city. Saving each other constantly in the line of duty and being there for one another whenever they needed each other the most.

Then, they came back. Amélie went home and felt her house was too big for herself. She asked her boss if she could use the accumulated vacation time she had and he said yes. The dates coincided with Jean's murder, so, she used that as an excuse. She then felt terrible about it, specially because Amélie had moved on. Sure, that wound is the cut that always bleeds but, with time, that bloodshed turned into tiny drops.

Élie left the capable François in charge of the Bureaux, then, she wrote to Theseus asking if she could stay with him and he didn't refuse. She moved in with him for a bit. Four months to be precise. And none of them felt time going by. Now, does four months sound like too much of a vacation break? Yes.

  Thing is, Theseus pulled strings in the Ministry for them to admit Rosier temporarily without affecting her job in France. They've been working as Head Aurors in the British office and, honestly, it felt great to do the tasks with a trusty person by your side. Amélie felt specially pleased because she got to keep her hard-earned title in the office.

  Neither of them were scared of whatever they could find out there because they felt safe with each other and, most importantly, they could head home together. That tough moment at night when one comes back to find their place empty was replaced by their presence. It felt the way it should be.

Today, we find ourselves in his house. It's noon on a Saturday. They were drinking tea as they ate brunch in bed. Bedsheets. No clothes. Their morning was a very homey morning. They woke up, neither was hungry, they got to the kitchen and tied the mess of last night's dinner, played a record Theseus owns, danced to the song in the living room, laughed, cleaned dust off the vinyl shelf, and just waste time. Very productive until he started touching her like nobody else does. That's how they ended up back in bed. Then, they cooked something and here we are.

"You know?" Said Theseus as Élie left her empty cup of tea on the nightstand. "It's lovely to just lay here with you." She smiled as she looked at him and laid down properly by his side, looking into his big blue eyes. He smiled. Her smile faded slowly.

  It's been a while since they've been seeing each other everyday and, before that, almost every day. While hooking up was fun and satisfying beyond words, she needed to know what this was. Problem was that, once again, she didn't know if he felt and wanted the same as her. She feared they weren't in the same boat.

"What is it?" He asked. She shrugged.

"Nothing." He leaned on his palm and had a look at her features.

"That's not true." His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb caressing her skin gently and connecting the dots of the freckles on her cheeks slowly and tenderly. "C'mon, talk to me." A sigh.

"I don't wanna ruin the moment." Élie said with a smile, he frowned. "It's fine. It is lovely to sit between comfort and chaos." He chuckled.

"What is it?" She looked at his eyes and then closed hers as she took a deep breath. Here goes nothing she thought as she hoped for her heart not to be broken by him again.

"What are we?" She dropped the question that made her breathing feel heavy after a short pause. Theseus remained silent and laid back down to look at the ceiling. She frowned with worry. Élie laid down on her back and looked at the roof too. "Lately the world is ending, so...I won't ask for too much."

"What will you ask for?"

"You." A beat where she looked at him. "All I ask is for you to stay with me." He looked at her. "And for you to tell me what this is...please."

His eyes went to the roof again. "I don't know." And it was the truth. He knew about this as much as she did.

"Well, what do you think this might be?"

"Élie, I don't know." He thought for a second. "Friends?" She looked at him and felt a lump in her throat. "We could be anything you want us to be...I...I don't know what it is, if I'm honest." She incorporated with a frown.

"I cannot believe that, after all these years, things haven't changed between us." She said after a while, causing him to sigh.

"What does that mean?"

"The ball in December. Back then, you said that we didn't love each other, instead, you said that we cared for each other and I told you that caring is loving. You were scared of it and you still are. And the problem seems to be me."

"No, no, Élie. That's not-" He was beginning to feel scared of the place this conversation could lead them to.

"Then how do you explain that you were willing to marry Leta but you cannot even say what this thing between us is? How do you explain that I can say 'I love you' but you can't?" Theseus blinked a few times. Did she love him? Is that what she was saying? She scoffed.

"That's unfair and not true."

"I'm sorry, but really, it isn't?" She looked at him.

"It really isn't." Amélie sighed.

"Then, tell me what are we?" He looked at her and Theseus felt the weight of the world falling upon him. The silence made its presence noticeable and the oxygen felt heavy, very hard to breathe.

  Amélie nodded, looked at the blue bedsheets and scoffed. Next, she stood up and found the light blue shirt Theseus was wearing yesterday on the floor. She put it on and made her way out of the bedroom.

"Amélie." Said Theseus as he sighed, she didn't answer. "Élie." He got up, grabbed his trousers and went after her. He found her in the kitchen having a glass of cold water. "It's not like that, I swear."

"Then what is this? What are we? Because, I don't think we're wasting time, right?"

"No, of course not."

"I'm sorry to ask like this, out of the blue, but I need to know. What does this mean? If four months mean nothing, if none of it counts for something, and if spending every night in your bed has no meaning then...what are we? Just a sorry excuse for love?"

"It does! It does count for something. We're not an 'excuse for love', Élie. Come on, let's not fight over this, please. Let's go back to bed." She left the glass down and looked at their naked feet on the wooden floors.

"I don't want to fight, trust me. But all my life I've been looking for this. This feeling of comfort, of being...loved...again. I've been alone most of my existence until I wasn't, and then...I was left alone again. And I hate it. You have no idea how hard it was and has been for me."

"I do have an idea."

"Not in the way I mean it, though. You and Leta never got to live together. Alexandre and I did. When he was gone, I'd walk back to a house, not a home, all alone 'cause nobody's there. And it was cold, and...at some point I was fine with that cold, until I found you again. You brought warmth back into my life. And when you're not around, I can't stand the cold. But I cannot go on like this any longer." He frowned. "Theseus, we've been living together, we've been parters on the field, you've saved my life and I've saved yours, you cooked for me when I was sick and I helped you with your nightmares. Coming home with you and to you changed everything." She breathed in and out. "I believe this is more than just...sex. But if you only reduce this to that then, it's meaningless and I don't want to go on." A beat. "I don't want to go on and believe that we're just a love affair because I love you, you idiot." He remained silent. Silence pitched through their ears again, they felt themselves shaking and hazy. She felt a lump in her throat and tears being formed in the back of her eyes. "This is the part where you say something."

"I..." He didn't know what to do. He did love her, like he always has. But, for some reason, he couldn't say anything. Even if he wanted to shout it, he couldn't. "I don't know what you want me to say." He saw a breath leaving her body, her shoulders going down in defeat.

"I want you to tell me that you love me, because you do, do you not?"

"I do. Of course I do."

"Then say it." Silence drained the oxygen from her lungs and the air in his chest felt like iron, too heavy. "Please, Theseus, please just say it." He felt his tongue dry, his throat sore. Amelie sighed as she looked out the window that's right behind Theseus, her eyes not being able to meet his. "So...we're back to the point-break of us." He shook his head.

"No. No, Élie. I refuse to go back to that." A silence fell upon them again.

"Then...tell me. Please, tell me." She begged.

"I..." I love you. I love you. I LOVE YOU. His mind yelled, but the words were trapped deep in his throat. He frowned and felt like crying as he couldn't say the words that would keep her with him. "I..." I love you, goddamn it! Nothing came out of his mouth. The tears in Amélie's eyes fell and both hearts broke again. "I can't." He finally said with a shaky breath escaping his lips.

"I'm sorry." He looked up.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I am sorry." She shook her head. "I'm sorry."

"Le problème est que je t'aime mais que tu ne m'aimes pas. Pas comme je pensais que tu le ferais." He frowned. He recalls that exact same phrase. "The problem is that I love you but you don't love me. Not like I thought you would."

"You-"

"Now you know what I told you that night." His heart sank to his feet.

"I do!"

"Then why can't you just say it?" He remained silent. He couldn't tell her. He hates being vulnerable, even before her. She scoffed, a bitter smile on her lips. "You know? It seems fitting and it's real funny how things go to hell now that I've found it. The thing that I've always been looking for." His own tears fell because he felt the exact same way. Her smile went from bitter to sad in the blink of an eye. She breathed in and out. "I think...I think I should go."

"What? No." She walked into the bedroom, Theseus following her steps closely. Amélie found her trunk underneath the bed, placed it on the mattress and opened it before moving to the bathroom to start gathering her belongings to get out. "Please don't." She didn't listen. "Amélie." She shook her head when she had walked back into the room. "Amélie, please, we can figure this out."

"Can we? The solution is right before you and you know what it is, but you can't say it."

"But you know I do feel that for you." She sighed.

"Maybe." She said as she grabbed her stuff from the closet. "I can feel it, I can see it, I can touch it, but I can't hear it. I can hear some words but I can't do anything with your easy words. I'm sorry if it sounds mean but I cannot go on like this." She packed everything in the dark wooden case, always keeping her head low for him not to see her cry. She felt the need to explain herself. "I've spent quite sometime not feeling loved. No one would say it. That's why hearing those three words is so ridiculously important to me." He bit his lip. "That's why I insist."

  Theseus couldn't do anything. Trying to talk her out of this would be useless, she didn't want to hear it, plush she had made up her mind and Theseus knows that, once she's settled on an idea, no one and nothing can change her mind. She's like a willow tree, immovable against the wildest winds.

  Whatever phrase that came out of his lips wouldn't be the one she needed to hear in order to stay. He wondered if she hated him again, he knew that if she walked away he wouldn't stop loving her and could not force himself to hate her again. Given the circumstances, he couldn't ask her to stay, and he would get it if she walked away. That made the pain in his heart sharpen.

  She got dressed with casual black trousers, and her boots. She grabbed her wand from the nightstand, closed the trunk, grabbed it, and walked out of the room, Theseus was once again behind her.

  Amélie was by the door, her hand on her coat. She threw it on. Then, she looked at him and he finally saw her, cheeks and nose red. The line of tears on her face. He cried. He approached her and embraced her, ever so tightly as to avoid her from leaving. Élie closed her eyes and hugged him back. She didn't want to leave, but her mind told her that it would be best if she walked away.

"Please, don't leave." He whispered. "I need you." She contained a whimper, she needs him too, more than he could imagine. Élie shook her head and stepped away from him. She picked up Nauge and carefully placed him into her empty bag.

"And I need you to want me. I want you to love me and make sure I know it." He blinked and looked at a mole she has on her collarbone in order not to meet her gaze. "I don't wanna leave...but I've got to go." Her hand found the knob of the door. He grabbed her hand and brought it to his chest, right above his heart. His other hand cupped her face and brought her in for a kiss.

  Both cried, the kiss was salty. She broke the kiss moving away from him. She smiled at him, trying to hide her broken heart behind a kind smile as she washed his tears away with her thumb tenderly.

"Stay with me."

"You're making this harder, Thes. I can't stay, not like this." His hand found hers on his face. "I don't think I could force myself to hate you because I love you more." He smiled sadly. "I'm sorry. Don't look for me, please. Not unless you figure what you actually feel for me. And if you do look for me, keep it professional. My door is always open for you but..." He frowned and she sighed. "You know where to find me. And...I'll be waiting." He kissed her palm before her hand slipped through his fingers once more.

  Amélie's hand found the door knob, she twisted it and opened the door. The warm May wind felt cold somehow. A second later, she walked out, the wooden gate closing behind her. Once she faced the city, she allowed herself to feel in silence as she walked away from his home. She didn't have the energy to apparate, instead, she walked to the train station, bought a ticket and hopped on the train that would get her to her cold house.

  While Theseus stayed there, in the middle of the living room wondering why and how could he be so foolish as to not be able to speak what he felt. And he hated himself for that because, now, he had lost the one...once again. He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated beyond words. He felt like screaming because he couldn't understand why he couldn't share his feelings. He's always had trouble with emotions, and he has tried.

  He hoped that now it could be different, unfortunately, it wasn't. And so, he lost her, the one he was dancing with in New York. How the hell did they lose sight of themselves again? He cursed his own name. How could he let this happen? How could he allow himself to give her up? He didn't know.

  Scamander stayed there, standing hollow-eyed on the hallway waiting, hoping, that she would knock on his door. Even if he knew she wouldn't. And he thought his body would wake up from its numbness and chase after her, but he knew he shouldn't.

  It was all an endless amount of questions and situations that ended up in the same 'I would've, I could've, and I should've' but none of it felt possible. Instead, he headed back to his room, laid down in bed and didn't move for the rest of the day.

  It's incredibly interesting and awful the way things end. They knew it could happen, they could see this ending as a possible outcome. Illicit affairs don't last, it's a thing that dies a million little times, they show their truth one single time but at the end...it is a lie.

  Theseus placed a pillow over his head and screamed. Amélie's scent calming him as his tears rolled down his cheekbones. Amélie couldn't scream, although she wished she could.

  He wanted to scream to the wind how much of a godforsaken mess she had made him, and she wanted to yell at the seven seas how he had turned her into a hopeless and idiotic fool.

  Both had made each other see colours they couldn't and cannot see with anyone else, they knew that they could and would ruin themselves for the other, and at the end...they had.