Sofía Gómez Davis (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} sofiagomez) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} 20somethings,@ 2022-03-30 21:43:00 |
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Who: Sofía, Hugo
What: Tea and
When: 30 March 2028, early evening
Warnings: Brief mention of adult situations, angst
Completion status: Complete
It felt like it had been so long since Sofía had invited Hugo over for one of their quiet evenings. Bash had become a big part of her life since then, to the point that she was spending several nights a week at his townhouse and taking thorough advantage of the drawer that he had set aside for her.
The guilt she had for not telling Hugo directly about what was developing between her and Bash hadn’t gone away. He was her best friend and she should have been able to tell him, yet she’d held back and even purposely lied to him to hide the truth. But what should she have told him? ’Sorry I didn’t make it to breakfast, I was too busy getting railed by my new boyfriend’?
¡Porque no!
Sofía tried her best to assuage that guilt, which today presented it in an overabundance of treats. “I have a few different types of tea,” she offered. Five, in fact, all of which were new and had been bought specially for today. There were three different types of cake on the table as well, not to mention a selection of biscuits. “I didn’t know what you’d fancy.” She hadn’t even made coffee for herself, a tiny gesture of solidarity.
Perched on the couch in her fuzzy pink loungewear, dark hair loose around her shoulders, Sofía unconsciously tried to make herself smaller. She’d gone overboard with the tea and cake, she realised belatedly.
Hugo gave her a weird look, she was... acting, well, weird. “I thought maybe you’d invited a small army over,” or his family, he thought with an internal chuckle.
“The usual tea is fine,” he swallowed, his throat felt thick. He hadn’t bothered to go home and change after his office hours today, but it had been months since they’d spent time together... Since the ballet? Maybe? No. No way. What the hell had happened to them since January?
“Are you alright?” He asked, settling onto her sofa - the other end, basically as far as he could be from her without being outright rude. His tone indicated he meant more than just her acting weird right now.
“I went overboard. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.” Which was exceedingly ridiculous considering how long they’d known each other. Sofía knew him as well as she knew anyone.
She sighed, shoulders relaxing a little. She needed to shake herself out of whatever weirdness this was. “I’m fine.” Sofía meant it, too. Everything in her life felt like it was going so well. Everything, that is, apart from her friendship with Hugo which she’d let slip down her list of priorities. “It’s just that it’s been ages since we’ve done this. I’ve missed you.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her but didn’t comment further. “I missed you, too,” he said, and he meant it deep down in his whole soul.
He reached for a piece of one of the sweets (didn’t even look at which one) as a sort of peace offering to her.
“I brought a new book to read, did you see Skye McLaggen from WeeVee started a book club? I couldn’t believe I’d never read this one, it won like every fiction award in the world.” He pulled the book out of his knapsack to settle in to quietly read like they always had.
Sofía carefully poured herself a cup of tea and added milk, realising that she had more than enough cake here to share with Lily and Bash too.
“I think I saw that on Winstagram? But I didn’t have a chance to look too closely at it. Turns out that herbology is surprisingly tiring.” It was a different type of exhausting to long days at the hospital, too. Sofía didn’t have much hope of her final work study in May being any different.
She took a small sip of her drink. “I keep getting compliments on the scarf you made me,” she offered.
“How so?” He asked - he had never done much herbology, except for his classes. “Do they have you out rooting for fungi and the like?” he asked with a small smile, trying for ‘normal’.
He took a sip of his tea and then blushed lightly. “I’m glad, I hope you still like it?” He was not the best crocheter, or really crafter in general, but he was still learning. Sofia had always been happy to be a guinea pig for his various learning ventures, and part of him wondered if that had changed. A large part of him wondered what had changed between them, because something certainly had. Maybe he’d made a mistake with her Christmas gift? Had he overstepped? He hadn't thought so at the time.
“We’ve done a few field trips,” Sofía admitted. “Woods and forests collecting specimens. But lots of stuff in the greenhouses too. Some of them are so humid. It’s like all the energy just gets sucked out of you.” Even Bash’s little lab didn’t get so sweaty.
Her smile was more relaxed now. “Of course I do. I’m actually a little sad that it’s not really going to be scarf weather for much longer.” Wearing it made her feel close to him, even as she’d been caught up in a romantic whirlwind. “Are you… making anything at the moment?” She loved their quiet time but talking to Hugo in person felt like more of a luxury than it used to.
He shook his head, “I can’t imagine that scarf is worth keeping the cold around. And no, I’m not, it’s fundraiser season,” he added simply. The office was always busier in the spring and summer months, unlike a lot of other industries in Britain.
“Have you been working on any of your hobbies?” He figured moving in with Lily would have given her more time with that, less family obligation and the like, but he wasn’t sure. They’d stopped their constant contact, so he didn’t know how she spent her days. The thought made him sad and a small frown made its way to his lips despite his best efforts.
“Oh, the gala was fun last year.” Sofía had gone with her parents and sister and sometimes she still looked a little longingly at the beautiful dress that was now tucked away in her wardrobe just needing a special occasion to wear it again. But if there was another gala she couldn’t really wear the same one again. “You must be getting really busy.”
She picked up a biscuit, the book she’d set aside to read going untouched. “Still working my way through my to-read pile.” Sofía hadn’t even bought new books for the last couple of months, a rare occurrence. “And Quidditch has only just started back up.” She couldn’t go to every game either. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Bash.”
There. She’d said his name. But she didn’t like how worried Hugo was looking. Did he even realise he was frowning like that? It was unlikely. What was he thinking about?
Hugo listened with a nod as he worked his way through his slice of sweets, but then he cocked his head - he wouldn’t call it harshly - at a new name. “Bash?” He asked, looking her way with zero recognition on his face.
Dios mío. That was a look Sofía had only ever seen on Hugo’s face a handful of times over the years. It was pure Hermione Granger and downright icy, designed to make the recipient feel about two inches tall. Yet instead of making her feel bad, Sofía felt annoyed even as her cheeks turned pink.
“You know who I’m talking about,” she said quietly but firmly. Sofía closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “God, I always hated telling you when I had dates for Hogsmeade weekends. Why has this never gotten any easier?” Except she knew exactly why she had hated it, even if he was as clueless as ever about it.
Hugo felt properly chastised by her first retort. His voice was quiet when he responded, “Dates?” Had she stopped seeing him because she was dating? “I didn’t ever mean to make you feel that way...” Had he done anything to make her feel like that?
He couldn’t look at her now, instead his gaze went to the sweets in his hand, his mouth dry and his appetite gone.
“I know you didn’t.” Sofía’s fingers held her teacup a little too tightly. “But it’s the one thing I could never talk to you about.” More often than not Hugo was the one she’d had a crush on or wished that she could go out with. “When I started seeing Bash,” she continued, deciding that was the most polite way of describing how things had developed, “I didn’t know how to tell you. So I just avoided it.”
She’d been a coward and she hated that.
A feeling sort of like betrayal - hot and shameful and sad - washed over him. If he hadn’t ever done anything to make her feel that way, why was she treating him like this now?
“I...” he didn’t really know what to say. Was there anything to say? He felt heat colour his cheeks. “Um...” He knew he had leaned on Sofia too much over the years, emotionally, as she was really his only friend but... Had she thought he’d disapprove? Or judge her? Really, they were both adults, she was free to see whomever she liked. (Though a part of him couldn’t help but think Sebastian Pucey? Really).
“You know, I just remembered, I forgot a file at work, I should run back and get it,” he didn’t know where the excuse - or the intense, sudden need to leave - came from, but it was out of his mouth before his brain caught up. His hands were setting down his cake and his teacup and shoving his book back in his bag and he was standing and he turned to look at her, his face a mixture of confusion, sadness, hurt, and not wanting to leave all at once.
“Hugo!” Even as she said his name, Sofía didn’t know what she was going to say next. Hugo wasn’t the sort to leave a file or a book anything like that behind. “I’m sorry.” The apology tumbled out of her and she realised that she was standing too, moving on instinct. “I was… immature.”
The Spanish speaker in her wanted to throw her hands up, but she was still holding her tea. “You got weird over a couple of Winstagram comments he made, so I didn’t know how to tell you.” Hugo probably didn’t even remember that, she realised weakly. A normal person probably wouldn’t, but it had just been lodged in her brain. “I’m so stupid about this sort of thing. I’m sorry.” She didn’t want him to leave, especially not looking like that.
Now Hugo’s face twisted into a confused sort of anger... Winstagram messages? Really? They’d been best friends for nearly a decade and she kept something so big from him over Winstagram messages that he didn’t even remember? He may have more of his mother’s iciness than his father’s temper, but some things brought it out and he couldn’t hide it now.
He also knew he didn’t want to say anything that would cause damage he couldn’t fix. So instead, he gave her one more look, shaking his head in almost disbelief. The anger melted from his features and was replaced by sheer and lonely hurt. He took his bag and headed for the floo, not having the strength to even look back at her one more time before leaving.
Sofía’s eyes widened. She’d been trying to apologise, to make things better, to hopefully set them on a course to being closer like they’d been before. But before was back when she’d been quietly pining over him, hoping that he’d notice her as more than just his little best friend.
Before she’d hoped that their excursion to the ballet would lead to something more. Instead, it had been just like any other time they spent together. Hugo hadn’t even said more than ‘you look nice’ when she’d met him at the theatre. Her crush had fizzled once more after that night and she’d met Bash just a couple of weeks later. Of course she remembered Hugo’s comments warning her of potions masters with superiority complexes, she’d hung on his every word hoping for something more that never materialised.
She couldn’t understand, then, why he looked so very upset. Sofía had expected him to laugh it off or dismiss it as something ridiculous. She’d expected anything but that hurt look and an exit without a goodbye. The fireplace settled but Sofía didn’t, brain whirling at a hundred miles an hour as she tried to process what had happened and why Hugo had reacted the way he did. It took a long time for her to come to an answer, her tea long since cold, and it wasn’t an answer she liked.
The guilt she had for not telling Hugo directly about what was developing between her and Bash hadn’t gone away. He was her best friend and she should have been able to tell him, yet she’d held back and even purposely lied to him to hide the truth. But what should she have told him? ’Sorry I didn’t make it to breakfast, I was too busy getting railed by my new boyfriend’?
¡Porque no!
Sofía tried her best to assuage that guilt, which today presented it in an overabundance of treats. “I have a few different types of tea,” she offered. Five, in fact, all of which were new and had been bought specially for today. There were three different types of cake on the table as well, not to mention a selection of biscuits. “I didn’t know what you’d fancy.” She hadn’t even made coffee for herself, a tiny gesture of solidarity.
Perched on the couch in her fuzzy pink loungewear, dark hair loose around her shoulders, Sofía unconsciously tried to make herself smaller. She’d gone overboard with the tea and cake, she realised belatedly.
Hugo gave her a weird look, she was... acting, well, weird. “I thought maybe you’d invited a small army over,” or his family, he thought with an internal chuckle.
“The usual tea is fine,” he swallowed, his throat felt thick. He hadn’t bothered to go home and change after his office hours today, but it had been months since they’d spent time together... Since the ballet? Maybe? No. No way. What the hell had happened to them since January?
“Are you alright?” He asked, settling onto her sofa - the other end, basically as far as he could be from her without being outright rude. His tone indicated he meant more than just her acting weird right now.
“I went overboard. I wasn’t sure what you’d like.” Which was exceedingly ridiculous considering how long they’d known each other. Sofía knew him as well as she knew anyone.
She sighed, shoulders relaxing a little. She needed to shake herself out of whatever weirdness this was. “I’m fine.” Sofía meant it, too. Everything in her life felt like it was going so well. Everything, that is, apart from her friendship with Hugo which she’d let slip down her list of priorities. “It’s just that it’s been ages since we’ve done this. I’ve missed you.”
He cocked an eyebrow at her but didn’t comment further. “I missed you, too,” he said, and he meant it deep down in his whole soul.
He reached for a piece of one of the sweets (didn’t even look at which one) as a sort of peace offering to her.
“I brought a new book to read, did you see Skye McLaggen from WeeVee started a book club? I couldn’t believe I’d never read this one, it won like every fiction award in the world.” He pulled the book out of his knapsack to settle in to quietly read like they always had.
Sofía carefully poured herself a cup of tea and added milk, realising that she had more than enough cake here to share with Lily and Bash too.
“I think I saw that on Winstagram? But I didn’t have a chance to look too closely at it. Turns out that herbology is surprisingly tiring.” It was a different type of exhausting to long days at the hospital, too. Sofía didn’t have much hope of her final work study in May being any different.
She took a small sip of her drink. “I keep getting compliments on the scarf you made me,” she offered.
“How so?” He asked - he had never done much herbology, except for his classes. “Do they have you out rooting for fungi and the like?” he asked with a small smile, trying for ‘normal’.
He took a sip of his tea and then blushed lightly. “I’m glad, I hope you still like it?” He was not the best crocheter, or really crafter in general, but he was still learning. Sofia had always been happy to be a guinea pig for his various learning ventures, and part of him wondered if that had changed. A large part of him wondered what had changed between them, because something certainly had. Maybe he’d made a mistake with her Christmas gift? Had he overstepped? He hadn't thought so at the time.
“We’ve done a few field trips,” Sofía admitted. “Woods and forests collecting specimens. But lots of stuff in the greenhouses too. Some of them are so humid. It’s like all the energy just gets sucked out of you.” Even Bash’s little lab didn’t get so sweaty.
Her smile was more relaxed now. “Of course I do. I’m actually a little sad that it’s not really going to be scarf weather for much longer.” Wearing it made her feel close to him, even as she’d been caught up in a romantic whirlwind. “Are you… making anything at the moment?” She loved their quiet time but talking to Hugo in person felt like more of a luxury than it used to.
He shook his head, “I can’t imagine that scarf is worth keeping the cold around. And no, I’m not, it’s fundraiser season,” he added simply. The office was always busier in the spring and summer months, unlike a lot of other industries in Britain.
“Have you been working on any of your hobbies?” He figured moving in with Lily would have given her more time with that, less family obligation and the like, but he wasn’t sure. They’d stopped their constant contact, so he didn’t know how she spent her days. The thought made him sad and a small frown made its way to his lips despite his best efforts.
“Oh, the gala was fun last year.” Sofía had gone with her parents and sister and sometimes she still looked a little longingly at the beautiful dress that was now tucked away in her wardrobe just needing a special occasion to wear it again. But if there was another gala she couldn’t really wear the same one again. “You must be getting really busy.”
She picked up a biscuit, the book she’d set aside to read going untouched. “Still working my way through my to-read pile.” Sofía hadn’t even bought new books for the last couple of months, a rare occurrence. “And Quidditch has only just started back up.” She couldn’t go to every game either. “I’ve been spending a lot of time with Bash.”
There. She’d said his name. But she didn’t like how worried Hugo was looking. Did he even realise he was frowning like that? It was unlikely. What was he thinking about?
Hugo listened with a nod as he worked his way through his slice of sweets, but then he cocked his head - he wouldn’t call it harshly - at a new name. “Bash?” He asked, looking her way with zero recognition on his face.
Dios mío. That was a look Sofía had only ever seen on Hugo’s face a handful of times over the years. It was pure Hermione Granger and downright icy, designed to make the recipient feel about two inches tall. Yet instead of making her feel bad, Sofía felt annoyed even as her cheeks turned pink.
“You know who I’m talking about,” she said quietly but firmly. Sofía closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her thoughts. “God, I always hated telling you when I had dates for Hogsmeade weekends. Why has this never gotten any easier?” Except she knew exactly why she had hated it, even if he was as clueless as ever about it.
Hugo felt properly chastised by her first retort. His voice was quiet when he responded, “Dates?” Had she stopped seeing him because she was dating? “I didn’t ever mean to make you feel that way...” Had he done anything to make her feel like that?
He couldn’t look at her now, instead his gaze went to the sweets in his hand, his mouth dry and his appetite gone.
“I know you didn’t.” Sofía’s fingers held her teacup a little too tightly. “But it’s the one thing I could never talk to you about.” More often than not Hugo was the one she’d had a crush on or wished that she could go out with. “When I started seeing Bash,” she continued, deciding that was the most polite way of describing how things had developed, “I didn’t know how to tell you. So I just avoided it.”
She’d been a coward and she hated that.
A feeling sort of like betrayal - hot and shameful and sad - washed over him. If he hadn’t ever done anything to make her feel that way, why was she treating him like this now?
“I...” he didn’t really know what to say. Was there anything to say? He felt heat colour his cheeks. “Um...” He knew he had leaned on Sofia too much over the years, emotionally, as she was really his only friend but... Had she thought he’d disapprove? Or judge her? Really, they were both adults, she was free to see whomever she liked. (Though a part of him couldn’t help but think Sebastian Pucey? Really).
“You know, I just remembered, I forgot a file at work, I should run back and get it,” he didn’t know where the excuse - or the intense, sudden need to leave - came from, but it was out of his mouth before his brain caught up. His hands were setting down his cake and his teacup and shoving his book back in his bag and he was standing and he turned to look at her, his face a mixture of confusion, sadness, hurt, and not wanting to leave all at once.
“Hugo!” Even as she said his name, Sofía didn’t know what she was going to say next. Hugo wasn’t the sort to leave a file or a book anything like that behind. “I’m sorry.” The apology tumbled out of her and she realised that she was standing too, moving on instinct. “I was… immature.”
The Spanish speaker in her wanted to throw her hands up, but she was still holding her tea. “You got weird over a couple of Winstagram comments he made, so I didn’t know how to tell you.” Hugo probably didn’t even remember that, she realised weakly. A normal person probably wouldn’t, but it had just been lodged in her brain. “I’m so stupid about this sort of thing. I’m sorry.” She didn’t want him to leave, especially not looking like that.
Now Hugo’s face twisted into a confused sort of anger... Winstagram messages? Really? They’d been best friends for nearly a decade and she kept something so big from him over Winstagram messages that he didn’t even remember? He may have more of his mother’s iciness than his father’s temper, but some things brought it out and he couldn’t hide it now.
He also knew he didn’t want to say anything that would cause damage he couldn’t fix. So instead, he gave her one more look, shaking his head in almost disbelief. The anger melted from his features and was replaced by sheer and lonely hurt. He took his bag and headed for the floo, not having the strength to even look back at her one more time before leaving.
Sofía’s eyes widened. She’d been trying to apologise, to make things better, to hopefully set them on a course to being closer like they’d been before. But before was back when she’d been quietly pining over him, hoping that he’d notice her as more than just his little best friend.
Before she’d hoped that their excursion to the ballet would lead to something more. Instead, it had been just like any other time they spent together. Hugo hadn’t even said more than ‘you look nice’ when she’d met him at the theatre. Her crush had fizzled once more after that night and she’d met Bash just a couple of weeks later. Of course she remembered Hugo’s comments warning her of potions masters with superiority complexes, she’d hung on his every word hoping for something more that never materialised.
She couldn’t understand, then, why he looked so very upset. Sofía had expected him to laugh it off or dismiss it as something ridiculous. She’d expected anything but that hurt look and an exit without a goodbye. The fireplace settled but Sofía didn’t, brain whirling at a hundred miles an hour as she tried to process what had happened and why Hugo had reacted the way he did. It took a long time for her to come to an answer, her tea long since cold, and it wasn’t an answer she liked.