The Return of the Shoes!

Elijah Krum was tired. That was the biggest understatement anyone could have ever given but that was all Nachash, Elijah's snake companion, had been moaning about it the whole way up to the Ravenclaw Tower. It was I’m tired this' or 'you're such an idiot' that. Elijah had hissed some really quite mean things to his snake. He was still slightly angry but it was with himself, not Amelia.

He'd all but passed out in the Dungeons the night before. He was shattered. He woke to find a loyal first year dragging him back to the Slytherin common room and by the time he reached his bed, he was already asleep. Morning had come too soon, that was what he and Nachash agreed on.

Eli wasn't Elijah 'Whatever his middle-name was' Krum at that moment. He was stripes - or was it Fluffles?, The White Bengal Tiger. The large cat sleepily morphed back into Elijah's human body and the woman in the portrait gasped when she saw him.

He was wearing a white wife beater with some dark jeans and whatever else he had on but he didn't care about that. He cared about the fact that some poor Ravenclaw, whom he had become particularly fond of in the short space of time they had spent together, had walked through Merlin knows what just to get back to this bloody tower.

"H-Hello, there." the portrait said nervously. "I have a riddle and a rhyme for you young man if you want to enter. What-"
"It's too good damn flipping early for riddles what is your problem!?" Elijah accused.
"You want access, yes?" she asked. He nodded and the woman let a satisfied smirk sit on her features. "Well then answer the riddle."
"NO!" Elijah yelled, his fatigue finally catching up on him. "Just let me in so I can return these shoes otherwise I will sharpen them and stab your stupid little painting five-hundred or so times!"
"Ugh!" The woman crossed her arms in anger and Elijah morphed back to Fluffles.

He felt Nachash slip out and curl around his neck lick a collar and he picked up the shoes with his teeth. Eli sat down outside the portrait door and held up a paw. He innocently ran his claws along the canvas and she woman screamed. Elijah's eyes widened and he put his paws over his little ears.

Elijah sat down again and waited, just waited. He wanted to seem moderately friendly whenever someone noticed that there was someone harassing the portrait. He was a kitty-cat. Granted he was a big one but someone had to love him lots and lots, how cute was the face? Honestly?

Eli saw a Ravenclaw walk past, his eyes wide. He couldn't have been older than a third year but damn did that kid have big eyes. He quickly answered the riddle and ran inside, yelling something about a cat.

Well, if the portrait didn't wake Amelia then he did. Nachash said with a snake chuckle.

Spoiler:

Amelia had been laying on her bed, alternating between sleeping and waking for hours. She had collapsed onto the bed last night after fleeing the owlery, her mind spinning more rapidly than any drunk had ever thought the room to be spinning. Laying awake for hours had only made her head ache more, and even after changing into her pajamas and washing up she was not able to fall asleep quickly. When she finally did lapse into dreams she did not sleep soundly, waking what seemed like every half hours or so, her heart beating out of her chest and her breathing heavy from the most recent of her nightmares.

After sheer exhaustion let her finally fall asleep for more than a few hours, Amelia was shocked away once again. This time, however, it was not her dreams but rather a voice outside her head which woke her. Even with the door to her dormitory closed tight against the world she could hear the shouting from the common room. Although she was sorely tempted to put a sound-sealing charm on the door and pretend oblivion, she knew her prefect duties compelled her to go deal with whatever the shouting was about.

Pulling on a robe over her shorts and tank top which qualified as pajamas, Amelia pulled her hair back into a bed-head curls ponytail. The robe provided very little warmth in the chilly dormitory – her mother had once again forfeited the practicality of warmth for a more chic silk version – but she had little time to worry about that as she whipped the door open and sprinted down the steps to deal with the screaming student before he managed to wake the rest of the dorm and left her surrounded by chaos.

“What is going on?” Amelia demanded, her lack of sleeping showing in the tone of her voice. The boy who had been yelling quieted upon seeing her, his eyes wide as he ran toward her and put his arms around her waist in a very childlike manner.

“There’s a tiger in the hallway!” he cried, his voice muffled by the fact that he was attempting to bury his face into the space beneath her arm, which she had lifted to avoid having them pinned to her body by the boy’s arms.

I cannot believe I am dealing with this. I honestly cannot believe this. Amelia thought, staring in disbelief at the second year she recalled meeting the first week of school when he had lost his pet salamander. Dimitri, his name was.

“Look Dimitri,” she said, wedging her fingers between his arms and her waist and pulling him away from her body, “I know you don’t get much attention around here, but there are much more believable lies that would be equally attention worthy.”

“No really, there is a tiger in the hallway! I swear it!” He protested, going into full-on pout mode as he crossed his arms across his chest. Amelia gave him a look that read You don’t honestly expect me to believe that?, to which the short blond responded, “Go look for yourself if you don’t believe me!”

Sighing heavily and throwing up her arms in a ‘why me?’ gesture, Amelia turned on her bare foot toward the tunnel which led to the corridor outside the tower. Crawling through the small, cramped space, Amelia realized that the boy had left the portrait open behind him. Mentally adding this to the list of things to chastise him for after she checked that the hallway was as deserted as she expected it was, Amelia was half out of the portrait tunnel before realizing that the boy had been speaking the truth.

“Oh!” Amelia said, her voice small and a bit nervous as she found herself nose to nose with a very large white tiger. After debating for a moment whether to retreat back into the common room or hold still in hopes that the animal wouldn’t attack, Amelia made an observation she hadn’t before. A snake with familiar markings hung around the neck of the tiger who was sitting prettily before her, and upon looking at its eyes again she found she could see a recognizable humanity in them.

Closing her eyes for a moment and reconsidering the retreat idea, Amelia finally stepped all the way out of the portrait tunnel and closed the portrait behind her. She leaned against the portrait, ignoring the protests of the woman for the time being. She had bigger problems to deal with at the moment.

“What are you doing here, Elijah?” Amelia asked, not unkindly, but with her weariness showing. She was not sure she had the energy for this encounter right now, but she also couldn’t find it in herself to send him away, especially when at least one part of her was still not completely convinced she had correctly identified the tiger as the boy she had met the night before.

Eli watched Amelia crawl out of the Portrait hole and cocked his head to the side. He looked at the woman in the portrait and made a slashing gesture before sitting back. Amelia's reaction was comical at best but Eli knew he had really freaked the poor little third year but he was an overly large cat sat in front of a dormitory. I suppose that would scare someone.

It was Amelia's question that took him aback. Everything else the sleepy cat had taken in his stride or however cats walk. Eli frowned slightly but gave Amelia a huge, cat-like grin with his teeth bared. After the grin that could probably kill a first year out of fright, Eli morphed back into, well, Eli.

"I'm here because I wanted a good argument with a portrait, Amelia." he paused and grinned again. "We need to give you a nickname but that's beside the point. You left me last night with a howler and a pair of very nice shoes so here I am, returning them. M-Maybe.. we could talk.." Elijah looked down at the floor and lightly kicked an imaginary bit of dust with his shoe.

"I mean, I didn't come here just for the shoes but every girl needs her shoes back and I'm not some crazy shoe stealing Slytherin who, uh, steals shoes. Nachash wanted to see you again and well I did too but Nachash wanted it more but only by a little which sounds really bad because well.." Elijah trailed off and sighed, his voice dropped a few octaves and he swallowed before running his hands through his hair. It was really becoming a habit for him now.

"I-I wanted to make sure you were okay... I mean, ugh, well... I am just glad I had an excuse to see you again 'tis all. I just think maybe we could try to be .. Friends. Well, I want to be more to you then some random kid that can’t stop with the affection for five minutes but it’s been ten so I suppose that’s some kind of accomplishment and… oh god I’m babbling.”

Elijah unceremoniously dropped his head into his hands in a vain attempt to hide his red face from Amelia. He had been babbling the whole way through the mini speech he had done because he had no idea what he was saying which was a small consolation considering his mind was thinking on overdrive because he knew he had to get Amelia to forgive him. No matter how long it took.

For the split second between the toothy grin and the metamorphosis, Amelia had the terrifying thought that she had been mistaken in thinking that the giant jungle cat sitting before her was the boy she had met in the owlery. With its teeth bared, the pearly white cat looked menacing and ready to pounce, stopping her heart and catching her breath. A moment later, though, Elijah changed back to his human form. Although this should have brought her bodily functions back to their normal rate, her heartbeat and breathing were not completely regulated as the boy began to speak.

The sarcastic comment had not been expected, but he said it in a joking manner that made what could have been sharp edges a bit softer. It was Amelia’s turn to from when Elijah mentioned giving her a nickname, though she tried to hide the expression as best she could. Amelia had never had a nickname in her life, unless you counted what she knew most of her peers called her behind her back: Ice Queen. Her mother had chosen her name with the specific intention of picking a name that could not be shortened. Antoinette was firmly against the idea of nicknames, feeling they gave a false impression of familiarity, and thus Amelia had never had nor wanted one.

She had little time to dwell on the subject of nicknames, though, as Elijah pushed forward with his speech. While Amelia would have come to this meeting – if she had come at all, that is – with a thoroughly rehearsed speech, but the Slytherin boy seemed to be making it up as he went along. He seemed to be speaking sincerely, letting his feelings guide his speech, which likely explained the way it ebbed and flowed like the tide. He seemed awkward in a way he hadn’t last night; somehow, Amelia thought, he had been shaken of his easy confidence.

Let’s all guess how that happened Amelia’s mind remarked bitterly, the unpleasant memory of her fleeing after he kissed her rising full force in her mind. For being so rational and fighting her feelings so thoroughly, her mind was not a gracious winner.

Amelia’s arm rose to the back of her neck, kneading the muscles there with her nimble fingers. The encounter with Elijah had been unexpected, and thus she had nothing prepared to say to him. She was uncomfortable standing before him in her pajamas, but it seemed his discomfort exceeded even her own. She listened as he continued to ramble on, covering what seemed like every thought that might be wandering through his sleep deprived brain. The lack of filter which had caused him to be overly intimate with her last night seemed also to have compromised any filter which might have once been between his mind and his mouth.

Amelia laughed quietly and only for a moment when Elijah figured out what she had known since a few minutes into his speech. The babbling had gone on unhindered by Amelia, mostly because she didn’t really know what to say. Clearly this boy was not going to give up easily, but she just didn’t know if she would be able to handle an attempt at friendship with someone so different from herself. Elijah was wholeheartedly honest, using his emotions to convey what he was feeling, instead of rationality to pretend his emotions didn’t exist (her usual tactic). He was funny, charming, good-looking – so many things Amelia could never imagine herself being. It wasn’t that she had low self-esteem – she was just very aware of her limitations and the low probability that she would ever expand beyond them.

Sighing, Amelia let her hand drop from her neck. She had already let Elijah wait in silence for almost five minutes as she processed what he said, even though she knew the wait must have been excruciating for him. He had put everything he thought and felt out for her to see and was now looked like a convict awaiting his sentence, head in his hands to hide a redness that had already risen to his ears. After a minute more of silence and internal debate, Amelia pushed herself off the wall, reaching her hand slowly toward Elijah’s arm and pulling one hand away from his face. The defeated look on his face was enough to spur her to speak, though she was not sure of her words.

“Maybe…” she said, pausing to give herself time to retreat if she wanted to, but she surprisingly found that this time her rationality sat quietly in the background, allowing this exchange to occur without throwing every obstacle it possessed in her way, “Maybe we should start with a walk?”

It was an innocent enough suggestion. It would give her some more time to think about what Elijah had said and what she was going to do about it. It was early enough in the morning that the corridors were likely to be empty, especially since it was a Sunday. Amelia waited hesitantly before Elijah, her turn now to wait for his reaction and finding she disliked the waiting.

Elijah felt an unmistakable surge of joy shoot up his spine when Amelia finally replied. He couldn't leave her to go about her life in the state she was in. He wanted her out of that protective shell she had made for herself as soon as possible. Maybe then someone would go on a Muggle Roller-coaster with him but Eli thought that, that wasn't an 'Amelia' thing to do. Play it safe and observe instead of brute force and ignorance which was how he generally went about life - not so much with the brute force though.

Eli grinned and took the shoes out from behind his back and held them out in his hands.
"These are a pair of very expensive shoes. Some men give beautiful women flowers, I give a beautiful woman her shoes which were left in my care. Next time I see you I will present you with another pair of shoes." Elijah chuckled. "Or maybe a painting of some shoes."

Elijah put the straps of his shoes over his arm and offered the other in a gentlemanly fashion which was the customary thing for those in higher society to do or whatever rubbish his mother had said. She was full of herself and her word vomit didn't matter.

"Now Lia.. hmm I like that, what about you? I think I'll play around with nicknames for a bit. Am where would you like to go? Am is a definite no." Elijah wrinkled his nose and laughed.

He would have fun with the nickname game. Amelia needed a nickname. Her mother had given her a difficult name to work with and if he needed to give her some sort of pet name then so be it. If she would be forever known as Bumble-Bee or Fluffy Bunny which sounded quite creepy, then Eli would be fine with it. However, he proffered Bumble-Bee over the latter.

The smile which connected Elijah’s ears together told Amelia she had not been completely out of line with her suggestion. She had a difficult time thinking on her feet in conversation, and this one had surely been unexpected. She wondered now if it would be appropriate to be seen wandering around the castle in the early morning hours wearing her pajamas, with a boy who looked just as sleep deprived as she did.

It’s not as if the rest of the castle thinks much of you anyway. Her subconscious reminded her, although her mother’s voice in the back of her head was throwing a tantrum which would put any three-year-old to shame. It being her suggestion, though, she could hardly back out from it without raising questions about her mental stability.

When Elijah pulled the shoes from behind his back, Amelia had to smile. The thought of how he had managed to carry them up here in his tiger form was a humorous picture: a large jungle cat carrying a dainty pair of dress shoes wasn’t something one saw every day. She blushed when he called her beautiful – she was still wholly unaccustomed to receiving compliments – and shook her head when he mentioned additional pairs of shoes.

“My mother does just fine in the shoe supply department,” Amelia replied, “Though they all fall into a similar category to the pair you are currently holding. Besides, the idea of you going down to Hogsmeade to buy women’s shoes may make some question your masculinity.”

During the course of her response, Elijah had slung her shoes over his arm – she was surprised the straps fit over the large circumference of his muscular forearms – and offered her the other arm. Taking a deep breath to remind herself not to run, Amelia hesitantly placed her forearm over his in the customary response to such a gesture, though the contact between them was not what would have been expected. Amelia did not want to reject Elijah’s offer, but she also had some qualms about people who wished to know her better invading her personal space. She found it much harder to evade questions or block people out when they were closer to her, especially if the person was male.

Amelia rolled her eyes minutely as Elijah began his exploration of her name, looking for a suitable way to shorten it into what he considered to be the all-necessary nickname. She had no desire to be called anything except Amelia, but the boy seemed to have his heart set on finding something else to call her. The familiarity of nicknames was what intimidated her the most: if he were calling her something besides ‘Amelia’, it would be a constant reminder that he was getting closer and closer to her.

She scrunched her face in response to his second try, though she smiled slightly in response to his laughter, which boomed off the empty stone walls as they walked down the winding steps of Ravenclaw tower. The steps were chilly on her bare feet, but they were warming as the pair walked.

“I don’t think I would like to be referred to by a linking verb,” she stated, “I don’t see what is so drastically wrong with what you already call me, what everyone calls me. Amelia?” She added, the last part a question as if to suggest he might have forgotten, though she knew he hadn’t.

"Buying shoes would make my testosterone levels shoot up I'm sure." Eli chuckled and smiled when Amelia ignored what looked like an internal argument and put her hand on Elijah's arm. He was being gentlemanly and it looked as if it was being excepted.. for a little while at least.

Eli lead her down the steps that took them to the Grand Staircase and chuckled at Amelia's obvious dislike of the nicknames that he was putting to her. If he was honest with himself, he liked Lia. Which, if it wasn't a nickname then he supposed a mother would call her daughter Leah and spell it better than just tearing off the front of Amelia. He liked it, it gave her the innocent but fiery label- which probably wasn't the right word, that she needed. No more of this Ice Queen nonsense that he heard too often in his common room.

"It is wrong because I consider you my friend and I hope I am yours. So, when friends become, well, friends; they give each other nicknames. Like the little children in Bulgaria and in Paris. They have only seen my Animagus so they have nicknamed me Fluffles or Stripes but it depends on the country. This feels disturbingly like when I had to explain the birds and the bees to my sister." he chuckled and looked down at the floor as the laughter died unceremoniously in his throat.

Eli decided to carry on with the Nickname thing. He didn't want to put more emphasis on his sister than he wanted too. It was all too much for him, even if he couldn't stand the showering praise and love she had gotten before..

"How about Mia?" Eli asked, filling the pause with more words. "Your mother gave you a difficult name didn't she? I think Mia could work though, it's pretty and will suit you I think. Amelia is over-used ... you need something new. Besides, I want to be familiar with you if that makes sense.."

Amelia was careful to keep watch on the floor for anything that might puncture the skin of her bare feet, not because she didn’t trust Elijah to guide her, but rather because he may not be aware of the danger. He, after all, was wearing shoes. As they wound their way down to the grand staircase, Amelia was running the nicknames Elijah had proposed over in her mind, attempting to use them in context without wincing.

Lia, how are you doing? Hey Am, how have you been? What are you doing tonight Lia?

None of it sounded right. No matter how she phrased it, the names just sounded silly, like they would never belong to her. Amelia had always thought of herself as too unapproachable to garner enough interest from someone to gain a nickname. What people called her behind her back didn’t really count, as they certainly weren’t saying it out of familiarity or friendship. Elijah, however, seemed dead set on finding a nickname which would fit her, and he continued on as they walked down the largest staircase in the castle.

His friend? Amelia thought, taken aback by how quickly the boy had warmed to her. Usually, she managed to chase people off with little to no trouble, but Elijah was different. He was stubborn and placed, in her opinion, far too much weight on his emotions and “gut feeling” about her. The idea of having a friend felt equally foreign to her as the thought of having a nickname, but she found when she tried out the scenarios of friendship the negative response did not rise as quickly. It was still like trying to fit two mismatched puzzle pieces together, but even though the puzzle pieces did not fit, at least they looked nice sitting next to one another.

Her mind successfully overcoming his reference to her as a friend, Amelia was able to catch Elijah’s mention of his own nicknames back home. She tried not to laugh at the overly endearing names, but a bit of a giggle escaped her lips. She couldn’t imagine how anyone could call the jungle cat she had seen earlier “Fluffles”, but then again, the world looked different through the eyes of a child.

Although his words had caused her to laugh, she did not miss the change in his easygoing nature when he mentioned his sister. This was twice now that she had seen this change in him, but both times she had reigned in her curiosity and abstained from asking questions. Elijah might feel comfortable asking her questions, but she knew all too well what if felt like to be preyed on by overly enthusiastic and inquisitive people; she wouldn’t do the same to Elijah. He would tell her when he was ready, or not at all. She would have to settle with whatever choice he made.

The shadow which had crossed Elijah’s face lingered only for a moment, disappearing as he once again turned his attention to Amelia. He talked a lot, Amelia liked that about him. For all the silence she created, he never seemed to run out of words to fill it. He didn’t expect her to respond to everything he said, nor did he always wait for one. He allowed her enough time to answer if she wanted to, but wasn’t offended when she didn’t. It made this whole “friendship” experiment much easier to handle.

His newest nickname was similar to the others in that it was a shortening of her given name, but she didn’t have the urge to wince this time. She rolled the name around in her mind, still feeling as though she would be better off sticking with her full name, but knowing this was a battle she was going to lose. She had already shot down two of his attempts, but he continued to volley more toward her. At least this one wasn’t a linking verb.

“I suppose I could live with Mia,” Amelia finally agreed, the nickname sounding foreign on her lips.

“But not all the time!” she added abruptly, a condition for her own protection. Elijah had said he wanted to be familiar with her, but she needed to ease into this. Elijah lived his life at seventy kilometers per hour, but Amelia had a much slower, more calculated pace, “You’ll still have to call me Amelia once in a while,” she added, moderating her voice this time so as not to sound completely objectionary to his idea.

Elijah felt like a child that had been locked inside a shopping centre by accident. He wanted to pick 'Mia' up a twirl her around. He was happy to have her agree with the nickname. To any normal person it wouldn't have meant much but this was a fifteen year old Bulgarian who spent far too much time in Paris. Whenever he was home he was crabby and would snap at the people only trying to help him.

He had no friends, no real friends at least. He had colleagues and co-workers and also a few 'admirers' in the models he used but it wasn't the same as having a friend you can sit on a veranda with on a warm night and drink wine with while exchanging stories that have no meaning but seem like the most important things in the world.

Perhaps he should have sought companionship with males but there was nothing for him there. He wasn't put off by guys, he would gladly go down the pub or something with them but he had grown up around women which made him a lot more easy going when he was around them. Sure he was a royal screw up when it came to befriending girls but that was beside the point. As quickly as he screwed it all up, he could make it right again just as fast; which was something he thanked Merlin for.

He had, head male friends when he was younger but they became twisted and very, very jealous of him when their girlfriends or crushes whom Elijah was also friends with, would rather spend time being his Model or having fun on a trip into the town with him. It was all a bit awkward when it came down to that so he just let them go and slipped into easy, no-strings-attached relationships with anyone who wanted them.

That was a dark, very interesting time that he was pulled out of rather abruptly when he found himself sitting in his studio with snapped paintbrushes littering the floor around him. He hated the sight and that was what took him to Paris. That was where he found a new light and more no-strings-attached relationships which were on offer to him but something he promptly ignored.

But now he found himself walking through a castle with a beautiful woman on his arm and he wondered idly if he could tread the line that he had been walking on, a little bit firmer than he had been doing. So instead of twirling Mia around, he took her hand on his arm with his other hand and gently squeezed it in thanks before placing it back where it was before, warming his skin.

"All the time Ms. Mia, all the time." he grinned. "I have a question to put to you though. It is something that is always intrigued me. Why do women always have ridiculously largely heeled shoes." he gestured to the heels thrown over to his arm and chuckled. "I think my sister wore heels to the day she died. She was funny about that.."

Elijah seemed to have completely missed the begrudging tone she had used when accepting his nickname suggestion, judging by the smile that spread across his slightly scruffy face. Although his eyes had looked tired a moment ago, they lit up in response to her answer. She could feel the energy and excitement pouring off of him in waves, his entire face lit up like a Christmas tree. It was almost enough to make her glad she had finally agreed to play along with his name game.

Although she was glad he seemed to have found something to smile about, Amelia still had to work very hard not to brace herself in case he decided to kiss her again. She worried that his elation might present itself in a similar way as it had the previous night, which undoubtedly would lead to a similar reaction. Amelia might have lowered the drawbridge over the shark-filled moat, but there were still plenty of obstacles and armed guards between herself and the boy.

She needn’t have worried, however, because Elijah’s response this time was far more controlled. Instead of leaning his face toward hers, he simply placed a hand over hers – his hands were far warmer than her skin, sending chills up her arm and down her spine – and squeezed it once. Though the gesture was simple, it conveyed more meaning than Amelia would have supposed it could. Despite the breach of physical space regulations, Amelia did not feel the urge to cringe away from him, nor did her flight response kick in.

Maybe he’s figured it out… Amelia thought, looking sidelong at Elijah as a hint of a smile danced across her pale features.

Or maybe not. She corrected herself jokingly, rolling her eyes when he insisted that he would call her Mia all the time. She could have put up a fight about it, but what would be the use? He would pay about as much attention to any of her objections as he had to her eye rolling – none at all. Although her reaction was not hidden, he pressed on, filling the silence with another of his many questions. This one, however, was not of a personal nature. He wasn’t inquiring about her past or asking her to explain her motivations, goals, or desires. He was asking about shoes. She could do shoes.

“To compensate for the fact that the higher power decided to make us quite a bit shorter than our male counterparts,” Amelia suggested, shrugging. She knew the answer did not apply to herself, seeing as she had inherited her father’s height and usually had a harder time finding heels she could wear in the company of the suitors her mother brought for her – heels low enough to ensure that none were emasculated by a date taller than he was.

“They do provide a certain element of elegance,” she added, thinking now about why she wore heels. Of course, her mother had always ingrained the idea into her that for any occasion where one might be seen, heels were the only appropriate foot attire, but there was more to it than that. She had always felt a bit more visible when wearing heels, like she wasn’t so much of a wallflower after all. Amelia glanced at the pair which now swung unceremoniously from Elijah’s arm, pausing to think before adding to her list, keeping the more private reasons to herself, though she did continue with a more superficial version of the same thought, “Improve posture, give a shapeliness to the legs, that sort of thing. I have never met a man who disliked the look of a woman in a good pair of stilettos.”

You haven’t met very many men, either, her subconscious reminded her. Amelia shooed the thought away, however. Just because her mind was right didn’t mean she had to give in to it. She hadn’t missed Elijah’s second mention of his sister, either, but she had chosen to sidestep that topic. She couldn’t think how to address him about it without sounding as if she were prying, and the subject seemed to be a sensitive one; when he spoke of her, it was always in the past tense, which rarely implied a topic one would be overjoyed to have brought up.