Title: "Maybe..."

Fandom: Shutterbox

Character(s)/Pairing(s): Damien/Megan, implied Adrien/Megan

Rating: K .

Word Count: 594

Notes/Spoilers: Some spoilers for vol. 3, all of vol. 4.

Disclaimer: Shutterbox and related properties belong to Rikki Simons & Tavisha and related parties.

"Maybe..."

Megan rose from the thick (stiff) chair as Damien solemnly entered the drawing room. She swallowed and looked hopefully behind him, wishing desperately that Adrien would be joining them, even as Damien's expression told her otherwise. He watched her almost hawkishly.

Her interest in his brother was obvious, had been ever since they were children (as was Adrien's, though it was harder to tell with him), but after that one night so long ago she had been special to him as well. Her bashful smile had lifted his spirits. Maybe, he had thought back then. Maybe, he thinks even now.

"I apologize for my brother's rudeness, Miss Megan. He has taken to a rather foul mood and refuses to be cordial," Damien motioned for her to retake her seat and lowered himself to the corner of the settee near her.

Her gloved fingers curled into her palms. "I... I see. You'll pass along my greeting?" Her eyes quickly passed over his face meeting his for no longer than a moment.

"Though he does not deserve it, I shall," it was a slow reply as he continued to watch her. She was still so young. Warm emotions flooded out of her and if he could but grasp them for even a minute-

"it must be hard for you as well," she offered.

"A streak of cold fire shot down his spine. "Miss Ellie and I were not as close as Adrien and she." Megan swallowed slowly at the latter detail. "They were always playing together while I helped my father. Often it seemed I was unwelcome." The leaving out of a few minor details wouldn't hurt anybody.

"I'm sure that's not it," she interrupted. She turned beet red as a smile dared to grace her host's lips. "They probably felt that after all the work you did with your father that their play games were too childish for you."

Oh, they were indeed childish games. Faeries and pixies, guardians of hearts and knights there to defend the precious. Make-believe was for fools.

(But oh how he had longed to be included.)

"That may be, but there is no use dwelling on the past. That you came to share your condolences despite not knowing my-" a slight pause unnoticed to create the falsehood, "cousin. You are truly most kind."

Her cheeks flushed to a soft pink. She was so interesting! "Offering such simple words is all I am able to do, I'm afraid."

He leaned in, a lock of dark hair falling across his forehead giving him a look of being older than he was. "Your kindness and friendship to my brother are no small thing, Miss Megan."

Her eyes widened slightly. "Please know that I extend amity to you as well, Mr. Crandall." Shy, uncertain, but true.

Yes, maybe indeed.

Slowly, as to not startle her (any more than necessary), he slid one of his still smooth palms under the material of her gloved hand and lifted it. "For that I am deeply grateful," he murmured, softly kissing the back of her hand.

Megan feared the thumping of her heart would be audible, that her heart would break through her ribs and slam against the raw confines of her chest.

The blush had made its way down the white column of her neck, continuing unseen past the collar of her dress. Even still she smiled demurely and lowered her eyes, removing her hand from his with an innocent grace.

Not even Adrien had ever achieved this reaction.

Just maybe...

"Would you care for some tea?"