Letting Down Walls [Tatiana]

[Tatiana Beautero]

Tati felt the shift in his expression despite his best efforts to hide it; that brief flash of something pained before he smoothed it away. She didn't push. Tonight wasn't for that. Instead she let the warmth of his response settle over her, appreciating more than he probably knew that he'd chosen to keep them both afloat.

His birthday story though made her eyes go wide before dissolving into genuine laughter. "Still drunk when you shifted," she repeated, pressing her fingers to her lips. "Bishop. That is either the worst or the most brilliant accidental solution I've ever heard. I genuinely cannot decide which." She shook her head, equal parts horrified and delighted. "The healer in me wants to give you a very stern lecture. The rest of me is just glad it worked."

When he asked about TJ, her expression softened immediately into something wholly tender. "Four years," she said, settling back slightly in her chair with the comfortable ease of someone talking about something they loved without reservation. "I resisted getting him for a long time actually. Felt like admitting I couldn't manage on my own." She smiled wryly at herself. "Which was of course completely ridiculous because I very clearly could not manage on my own." She took a small sip of wine.

"My Doctor at St. Mungo's suggested it. He'd noticed I was having a particularly difficult stretch and mentioned a wizard who trained magical service animals." Tati's expression turned fond at the memory. "I went just to appease him, fully intending to say it wasn't for me. And then this ridiculous puppy with absolutely enormous paws made a beeline straight for me, put his chin on my knee, and looked up at me like I was the most important person in the world." She laughed softly. "I didn't stand a chance. I was completely done within thirty seconds."

Her thumb traced the rim of her water glass. "He changed everything, honestly. Gave me a reason to keep a proper schedule, to go outside, to interact with the world." A pause, quieter. "To not disappear entirely into myself." She looked across the candlelight at Bishop. "He still does. Which is why tonight felt significant; leaving him behind. Like proof that maybe I'm getting a little better at actually living rather than just..." She gestured vaguely. "Existing."

Her eyes held his, warm and certain despite the vulnerability in the admission. "I think you might have something to do with that too, for the record."