Barty Crouch Jr (crouchatmyfeet) wrote in ageofdarkness, @ 2010-05-23 03:39:00 |
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Entry tags: | barty crouch |
You're right, mum
Who: Barty Crouch
What: Musing on Barty/Evan
When: Saturday Evening
Where: Cliffs of Dover
Why: Barty has to tell his mum.
Warning: Explicit words?
Status: Complete
Barty was going to spend most of the night looking for Vera because Bella had asked, and the girl was Lucius’s niece, and he really didn’t have anything much better to do really. But he had a stop first, out of the city, away from the lights and noise and people. They didn’t bother him generally, but he had to talk to someone, the only person he could talk about everything with. Well, since she died.
The cliffs of Dover were a familiar sight – all his life. But for this purpose Barty went there because his mother’s ashes had been spread from that point sixteen – nearer seventeen – years before. It was his place – perhaps his most serious place in the world. Eh, what was the point of reflecting on that line of thought? Not much of one.
Sitting on the green, Barty left his journal open on the ground, with the quill and open pot of ink on it to reply to any messages he received. But he let the air flow over him. Salty fresh air. “You’ll be surprised, mum,” Barty spoke quietly, “Or maybe not. You always saw things I didn’t. But I prefer to think you’d be surprised, at least a little bit. At how long it took, perhaps then. You always knew I could be daft.”
His fingers picked at the ground, and he brushed off his hands, though they were back at it again quickly. “I’m with Evan,” he stated, “With-with him. He called me lover, but I’m not sure how he meant it. So maybe we’re lovers, if that’s the right term. I don’t know. I’m not good at knowing that kind of thing. If I find out, I’ll tell you.”
He messed up his hair nervously. No, he still wasn’t sure what they were. “Not fucking anyone else though,” he spoke bluntly, “Nor is he. And I do…love him. Have to, obviously. Wouldn’t date him or…whatever we’re doing otherwise. I told him too, would you believe that? I knew I’d surprise you.
“And yea, yea, yea, you were right. I know. Love exists. Schmoopy whatnot. And you’re right to laugh at me, I know. I just…wasn’t aware that’s what it was. I fucked him more than anyone else, sure, but that didn’t mean…well it did. But how was I supposed to know? No one pops up with a sign going ‘hey, by the way you love your best friend.’
“I love him. I trust him. I…am scared, mum. I know Lucy’s happy with his wife, but it’s…the scariest thing I’ve done. So much scarier than killing Father. I wasn’t sure I was going to survive that one. But this…” his hands picked even more at the ground, picking up clumps of dirt.
“It’s so good it scares me, mum,” he spoke quietly, “What if I – what if he - ?” He stopped, unsure even of what exactly he was scared of – of fucking it up, of something. The waves crashed against the cliffs, and the seagulls squawked loudly. His eyes lifted up at them.
“Yea you’re right, mum,” he wiped his hands off. Standing and closing the journal, he apparated – leaving an empty coast line.