|Cassius Vaisey (bd_vaisey) wrote in beyond_dark,|
@ 2008-06-11 05:24:00
|Entry tags:||* june 2006, - complete, cassius vaisey, miles bletchley|
RP: Doing Duty
Date: June 10, 2006
Characters: Cass, Miles
Location: The three broomsticks
Rating: All ages
Summary: Cass goes to fulfil his duty and give information to Rodolphus through Miles.
He'd barely been able to get out of bed this morning. Was still not sure how he'd managed to drag himself from the bed to the shower, from the shower to the bedroom to get dressed, from the house to the office. Every time he took a breath there was a fresh waive of pain washing over him. Every time he closed his eyes he could clearly see the image of Percy in his mind. The look in his eyes.
Of course, every time he had his eyes open he couldn't help but to stare at the closed door to Percy's office. The door that had always been open to him, but that was now irreversibly locked to him.
Percy had only come out of it once today, and then made a point not to look in his direction. It made it impossible to look into his eyes, and yet Cass didn't need to look into Percy's eyes to see the tension in the shoulders, the defence in the stance, the way he carried himself as if there was something extremely heavy weighing him down.
He couldn't stand to look, so he made himself scarce, only to return when he was sure it was safe. The day had dragged by, every minute feeling like an hour.
Now though, sitting in the chair at the bar counter at the three broomsticks, a fire-whiskey in his hand (and bottle next to the glass), he wished it had moved slower. The information he had was packed safely into his robes, feeling as if they weighed a thousand tons, burning through the fabric, or so it seemed. Cass could almost imagine how it looked if the feeling had been true. The envelope shining through the robes, large red glowing letter spelling out the word guilty all over the paper.
An fantasy, of course, but one that fitted his state of mind. He would learn to fake it, of course, as he'd faked everything in his life. Almost everything in his life. It would take some time though. He was not nearly ready to fake being over Percy. Would he ever be?
A sound made him look up from his drink, and he nearly frowned as he saw Miles. His so called friend. One he'd not been angry at before but felt like hexing on sight now. He wouldn't, of course, he had enough composure for that.
'Hey mate,' he said instead, though he did not try to smile, it would not work so why attempt it. Sometimes faking the reasons for a foul mood was better than faking a good one. At least he knew how to fake well. 'Do you have some time to chat? I've had a rotten day at work and could use a bit of distraction – and better stuff than this,' he added holding up the glass before he swallowed down the burning liquid. Some how the burning felt like it belonged. Everything else burned after all.