cau_harper (cau_harper) wrote in causatum_rpg, @ 2008-02-18 22:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | & private residence, * february 1999, quintus harper, ~ complete |
RP: Early Mornings and No Cake
Date: February 18th, 1999
Characters: Quintus Harper, NPC Diana Harper
Location: Harper House, Kent
Private/Public: Private
Rating: PG
Warnings: Just one line of language.
Summary: Quintus doesn't get any of his birthday wishes.
It was a well-known fact that Quintus liked to sleep in. Especially on his birthday. It was also a well-known fact that it never mattered how old he was turning, that the youngest Harper son looked forward to the 18th of February with the same level of anticipation as a child who has just learnt the materialistic connotations of 'birthday'.
Although, to be fair, it wasn't all "gimme, gimme, gimme" with Quintus. There was also the cake.
However, he'd been working early shifts at St. Mungo's all week, and his body clock refused to cooperate with his usual preferences, and so, at six o'clock, he found his feet dragging him downstairs to the kitchen to shove food down his throat and wake him up a little bit more. Quintus thought his body was being ridiculously idiotic, and hoped this disobediance of his will was a one-off. Things could get weird if not.
"Mum?" he managed in a tone of shock. Diana Harper was dressed a little too well for this time in the morning. In fact, the amount of effort she must have put in to look that immaculate must have taken at least an hour. Maybe an hour and a half. Quintus didn't trust his guage of judging the amount of time it would have taken. That would require understanding women, which he most certainly did not.
"Darling!" she returned warmly, smiling broadly. "Happy birthday, Quinnikins." She crossed the kitchen floor and planted a kiss on his forehead and wrapped her arms about him in a fussy, motherly fashion. "You're up early. You don't have work today do you? I thought you took the day off."
"Too. Bubbly," Quintus groaned, and ducked out of the hug. If he lingered too long in it, she'd be ruffling his hair next. "Too early!"
"Have some cereal, and a bit of toast, love. Cup of coffee, hmm? That'll wake you up."
"I don't actually want to be awake right now," Quintus explained, but reached out and took the toast his mother offered anyway.
"I know, love," she soothed, then reached out and ruffled his hair. "So. I've decided."
"Eh?" was about all Quintus could get out with toast in his mouth.
"I'm going to Spain. And then after that? Wherever the wind blows me," Diana explained, punctuating the last sentence with a bit of corny excitement.
He swallowed his toast down. "Wherever the wind blows you? That's not quite like you."
"Oh, Quinnikins, won't you be a little less cynical?" She didn't say 'Or you'll end up as bitter as your brothers', but they both knew she thought it.
"Okay, sorry, Mum. I apologise sincerely for my uncharacteristic cynical remarks, and promise to ever be the doting, pleasant son you believe I am."
"Now, that's just silly," Diana chided affectionately. "Will you come with me?"
"No, Mum. It's called snarky. Salazar, keep up with the times! And," he paused and gave her a funny look, "I can't come. I already told you, I have to work."
"And I've told you that you don't have to do a thing, love! You don't need the extra money. If you wanted extra money, I can very easily arrange for a bigger allowance." Diana reached across the bench and picked up her cup of coffee, taking a fairly large and slightly nervous sip.
"It's not about the money, Mum." He sighed. They'd discussed this so many times, her protesting and not getting it; and him explaining - and then re-explaining. This was not the sort of conversation he wanted to have on his birthday of all days. "Well, maybe if you tell me when you are going?"
"This afternoon," she replied quickly, and averted her eyes.
Quintus gaped. It was the best he could do under these circumstances. Wit was not something most people posessed at twenty past six.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. Your sister informed me last night that you are to expect a certain someone from France as a guest for the next two months."
He didn't need to be told who that certain someone was. There was only one person from France his mother hated to say the name of, and would use any other expression instead. His half-sister. "You're running away because Melanie is coming?"
"Don't say her name to me," Diana snapped.
Compassion moved inside his heart, and he put his arms around her shoulders. "When will you be back?" he asked, trying to sound understanding and apologetic at the same time.
"Whenever the wind blows me," she replied wryly. She broke away and reached out to stroke his cheek. "I can't believe you're eighteen. I wanted to keep you my baby boy forever, but you make a wonderful young man too."
He smirked back at her. "I know."
She laughed, planted a last kiss on his forehead and exited the room, coffee mug in hand.
Quintus watched for a moment, until he couldn't see her anymore, then turned back around and poured some milk into his cereal bowl. "Fuck," he said glumly to the cereal.