Chapter Text
Dusk was settling over the fields; the dwindling remains of the sunset shone through the windows and onto the edge of Morfin’s hair, creating an utterly inapt Victorian painting-esque image.
Harry sighed tiredly and removed his glasses to sloppily rub his eyes. “The recent events point to one conclusion,” he said. “Well, not literally one, but with the current posteriors I can be reasonably sure that you love me.”
“Ah, if only we could use our wish fulfillment fantasies as priors…” Morfin drawled, lazily stretching on the sofa. “Then, perhaps, your deduction might’ve been true.”
“You cling to the idea of this relentless sociopathy, made immutable by forces beyond your control,” Harry said in a calm tone despite anxiety gripping his throat. “And I’ve supported it—until the last few weeks. You know precisely why I’ve changed my mind.”
Morfin gave him a long stare, suddenly looking exhausted, burnt out from speaking even. “Please enlighten me,” he said flatly. “Although your line of reasoning would hold little weight in face of the distinct lack of the necessary hormones.”
Harry laughed quietly despite himself. “Do not mistake loving with being in love. There’s a reason for why when the pink glasses fall and shatter, most couples stay together.”
“Complacency,” Morfin said, unwavering. “They get used to each other.”
“We,” Harry replied, “got used to each other, didn’t we?”
“We aren’t—”
Harry arched a brow. Morfin bit his lip before rolling his eyes and continuing, “If you have clear arguments, I am willing to listen to them.”
“Alright,” Harry said. “You trust me with the extraordinary magic of yours, with some of your investigations and discoveries.”
He could hear Morfin thinking, Because you, unlike others, gave me no reason not to, and proceeded before the man could say anything, “You find it important to maintain a good relationship with me.”
And with some other useful people, so this reason is deeply flawed—
“You don’t find our mutual activities annoying.”
Yet, they do not bring true happiness—
“You prefer my company to being alone.”
He closed his mouth, and silence and stillness descended upon the room, not even a breath reaching Harry’s ears.
Slowly, sloppily Morfin shook his head. “Is this it?” he finally asked, voice filled more with cold amusement than disbelief. “Is this what people waged wars for; razed cities, gave up on their dreams? I must confess, I am disappointed.”
“Thanks,” Harry deadpanned before he could stop himself.
Morfin smirked. “Don’t take everything personally, Harry. I am incredulous about the feeling, not its object. Your antics became a sweet routine a long time ago; my own soul’s, not so much.” He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled heavily, gaze unfocused.
“This brings up an interesting question,” Harry said, sitting down at the edge of the sofa. “Does the reason lie in magic or some other process? You know, I would very much enjoy rejecting your hypothesis about the unchangeable nature of your soul.”
“An experiment, then?”
“An experiment.”
Half-smile playing about his lips, Morfin leaned into the kiss.