signed_sabrina | (no subject)

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nick scratch

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The thing about having a boyfriend you've dated in multiple realities, Sabrina thinks, is that it's hard to pin down certain things, like... anniversaries. Not that she's sure she would count Lupercalia as an anniversary the way she counts New Year's with Charlie, or how she's already making plans for sexy Halloween costume fittings to have with Rosie. It's the anniversary of her being honest with herself about wanting Nicholas Scratch in her bed, or more appropriately, wanting to make a bed with him under the moon, on top of that red cloak--

Mrrr.

"I do not have a weird costume fetish," she says, glancing down at Salem as they take the elevator up to Nick's place. "And you're not psychic, that was just a really good guess at what I was thinking, because that's why I'm here, to make Lupercalia plans with Nick."

The elevator door dings open, and Salem trots away, leaving her to follow.

"Also, just because of the dressing room with Charlie and the costume and Rosie and of course the cloak," Sabrina says, "okay, there's a pattern. But you know, that's not even what I'm worried about discussing with him. Lupercalia was special for a lot of reasons, but there's some really bad ones in there too." And try as she might, she's only mostly wiped the apprehension from her features when she knocks first, and then turns the handle of the door, Salem trotting in before her.

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Nick looks up when she walks in. He's sitting in the sofa, jeans and a shirt open over a wide water, his feet bare where they're propped up on the coffee table while he does some reading for class.

"Hey, Spellman," he says.

"Hey, Scratch," she answers, watching Salem pad inside and find his way to the spare bedroom for a nap. There's a moment, because there always is, where she just sort of looks at Nick, taking in the sight of him with a pleased smile.

And then she heads over to join him on the sofa.

"What are you studying today?"

"Lighting design," he says, and his expression shows exactly what he thinks about that. He rolls his eyes and settles in against her. "How about you? What have you been doing today?"

"I had a shift at work, lunch with Charlie, and stopped home for Salem," she answers, relaxing happily into his solid warmth. "We came here because... well, there's a certainly witchy holiday that gets ever closer."

She looks up at him, hopeful and solemn.

"Lupercalia." A smile tugs at the corner of Nick's mouth and he closes his textbook, setting it aside so that he can give her his undivided attention. "What are your thoughts, Spellman?"

"My thoughts were that I was hoping to find out your thoughts," she says, shifting slightly she she can see his face. "I don't know that we've ever talked too much about, um, the way it ended for us last time. And while I really, really want us to get a chance to make it our own, I-- didn't want to just brush over anything important."

"You mean Amalia," he says. She's right - it's not something that they've ever discussed, mostly because his feelings on it are mixed. For a long time, she was really the only family that he had. She'd raised him, and he'd loved her like a mother. But that doesn't entirely mitigate the fact that Sabrina had only killed Amlia because she'd tried to kill him. Her jealousy had threatened to eat them both whole.

"Yeah," Sabrina says quietly, "I do mean her. I just-- we haven't, and I want this Lupercalia that we make on our own. Not that I think it wouldn't be good, but it feels like we should... at least address it. She was a huge part of your life."

A part that I ended.

"The four of us?" he asks, just glancing over at her. "Or just me and you?" A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, but it doesn't stick. "She was," he says. "But...it was difficult a long time before I met you, Spellman. You're not to blame for the way things went."

"That would be another thing to talk about, yeah. I'm going to play true to character here and say that I want it both ways. All of us, but--" She settles her hands on his chest, dark eyes on his. "But I want that night with you under the moon."

The intensity fades a bit as she moves to the other topic. Here, she has more hesitance. "I'm not to blame, but I sure do seem to bring bad luck. And something like that, you're bound to feel some things."

He feels the intense moment between them, the weight of it before she moves on. A frown draws his dark eyebrows together. "Bad luck? Spellman, you're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You have to know that."

Sabrina can't help but press her thumb between his brows, trying to smooth them out. "There are days it's harder to stay away from all of the-- no one around me will ever have an uncomplicated life, and I know that it's," she sighs, "ridiculous to think somehow everything would be fine without me or if I as different. I understand how egotistical that is, but it's just hard to feel it, sometimes. Which is. I was trying to not make this about me."

She rubs her own forehead.

He smiles when she tries to physically smooth away his frown like that, curling his fingers around her wrist and guiding her hand down so that he can kiss it.

"You're the centre of the universe, Spellman," he says, and he means it, utterly. "You're the sun."

She loves him so much, it honestly shouldn't be possibly. The sounds she makes at the kiss to her hand slips out soft and somewhere between awed and wounded, and she pushes to her knees to kiss him.

After a long, achingly sweet kiss, she pulls back to whisper, "The things you say, Nicholas Scratch. So tell me, will you do me the honor of not just spending Lupercalia with me, but remaking it however we want?"

"Of course I will," says Nick, squeezing her hand and leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of her mouth. "We can make it whatever we want. Nothing to do with your father at all."

Sabrina allows herself a moment of being absolutely stupid with love before she offers up any plans. "The best parts about being a witch never had anything to do with him anyway," she says, scooting even closer, as if to pretend she's going to be anywhere but his lap within the next five minutes.

"I think that we should go to whatever party pops up on the fourteenth itself, Valentine's Day," she says, "and then we can take Rosie and Charlie moon-bathing. And then the night of the fifteenth, you and I can go to the woods and celebrate the part we missed."

"All of that sounds perfect," says Nick, brushing a strand of her white blonde hair back from her face as she shuffles closer to him. "Especially finally getting to have that night with you."

She leans into the touch, much more centered and calm now, one more thing corrected and one more regret no longer tugging at the back of her thoughts. "It should be easy to get supplies, and I suppose there's a shopping trip to be had with Rosie."

As if she's anything but delighted by that.

"I've never known you to pass up an opportunity to buy new underwear," says Nick, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Are you planning to match, or...?"

Sabrina tries to look indignant for nearly three full seconds before laughing instead.

"I think we should, shouldn't we? A fine tradition we'll keep from the Academy." Her head tips. "I think she'd be very fetching in one of those little dresses, too, but another day."

"I kind of like it when you don't match, to be honest," says Nick, his smile still broad, his hand stroking against her thigh. "Less echoes of the Weird Sisters that way."

That catches her attention, and she nods.

"That makes... a lot of sense. Because that's not us, not at all." Pushing further into his touch, she hums thoughtfully. "Different, then. All of it, maybe? Is there-- anything, really, you want to keep? Or-- none of it, except you and me and the moon? It's about us, after all."

He slips his arms around her waist, pulling her almost entirely into his lap.

"Just you and me and the moon sounds pretty perfect to me, babe," he says.

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