Oct. 30: False Confidence: Rookwood

[Elliott Thomas]

▶︎ Don't take yourself so seriously...

And I wonder why I tear myself down to be built back up again
Oh, I hope somehow, I'll wake up young again...

Pale lights hung in orderly rows from the low ceiling, and while the room was still crisp compared to most of the offices outside of the Department, at least he couldn't see his own breath. One of these days he really would catch his death at his usual post, simply disappear into the darkness of the stacks of forgotten prophecy records, and no one would know. Elliott quietly shut the door behind him, not wanting to risk drawing the attention of the abominations in their tank nearly as much as he hoped to not disturb his fellows, and gave the room a scan. Mr. Rookwood was easy to pick out of a crowd, easier still in the sparse hall of study, and Elliott breathed in some relief - and just as quickly, felt his pulse accelerate. Because now that he'd been found, Elliott could not go back without interrupting the senior Unspeakable, not unless he was to break a promise to himself.

As if it be so terrible to live with another one. Getting used to it, aren't you?

He was seeing Teagan.

Still.

More than five weeks had flown through his fingers since that first - and, thankfully, only - so far - fiasco of a coffee spill. And every time, it seemed, every time that he left her company from a lunch at that same little cafe - after a sandwich, newspaper puzzles completed with the pair of pens in his pocket or her purse, brain itching from whatever new fact he learned about her or her favorite science fictions - or a night out together, he swore that that would be that. He'd stop leaving the Ministry at midday, he'd unplug the telephone that still smelled new, and he'd disappear from the world she lived in. The one where tragedy still happened, but was explained away by a troubled neighbor soon arrested, not harried by frenzied headlines of witches and wizards gone wicked, still at large days after that terrible night, and the hushed, fearful talk around the Ministry.

And yet -

He couldn't.

He wouldn't.

The temptation to see her again, to feel how he did when in her company, continued to be more persuasive than the risk.

The muggle girl deserved better, but she enjoyed him. Who she thought he was, anyway.

Perhaps she wouldn't anymore, with how he'd practically run from their lunch today. But how could he do anything else, when the story in her paper was wrong and he could hardly say anything, for fear of spilling everything?

The abrupt departure gave him time, at least, to try and eek another meeting out of his break, and to occupy him enough to stop seeing the look on Teagan's face at his graceless exit every time he closed his eyes. He had to speak with someone, and it was never going to be Madame Lona Gwynne. The Keeper of the Hall was far too devoted to her duties to understand his apathy - rapidly growing towards resentment - towards his own. But Mr. Rookwood, he was different. He had made a point to welcome Elliott in, to learn his name and his family, his interests in time and space and the pull he felt towards those rooms. And it was easy, shockingly easy, to share such things with the affable man. But they did not speak of Teagan, not a word, although he was disarming in a way that Elliott couldn't hope to emulate - and he would take the time. He would listen. And, with any luck, give advice that would stick.

Elliott kept to the edge of the room as much as he could, watching the swimming brains and their trailing tentacles with the wariness they deserved, and cleared his throat once within the man's vicinity, nosing towards the tank. "Mr. Rookwood, hello. What are you observi- " He stepped back on instinct at a sudden splash, the flash of a tentacle above the liquid, a sharp expletive under his breath as he shook himself out of the surprise. "C-c-could I ask you a few questions? I could - " The lad steeled himself. " - assist you here, so your work is not interrupted. Or come back another time, I - should have made arrangements - "