gretchen watkins is the spice of life (toffer) wrote in changedrpg, @ 2012-01-28 19:30:00 |
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Entry tags: | !complete, !date: 1998 - january, gretchen watkins, trevor scabior |
WHO: Gretchen Watkins & Trevor Scabior
WHAT: Gretchen's working on breaking a curse and Trevor doesn't like it
WHERE: Trevor's flat
WHEN: Saturday night
WARNINGS/RATING/STATUS: Cursing? Pretty mild actually, considering/PG/Finished log
The third ward dropped and Gretchen sat back, exhausted beyond the telling of it. “Done,” she croaked, her voice hoarse as she glanced from MacNair to Trevor. She couldn’t remember a time when she’d been this tired and her hand still ached from where she’d cut it earlier to add a few drops of her blood to help break the second ward. It took a long moment for her to lever herself out of the chair and tell MacNair she’d be back in a few days before reaching for Trevor’s hand. She shot him a look, hoping he knew he’d have to Apparate them home because she’d end up splinching them. He gripped her hand in his and they blinked out of existence, landing in the living room of Trevor’s flat.
She released his hand, taking a step back and dropping onto the couch and it was another moment before she took a breath and pushed herself into a sitting position. “Do we have … anything...?” she asked, too knackered to finish the question when he knew what she meant.
Trevor spent most of his evening alternating between watching her cautiously and glaring at MacNair. As soon as she stood he was at her side and placed an arm protectively around her waist, more than ready to Apparate her away.
“Yeah,” he nodded, watching her settle into the couch before waving his wand to summon a potion from the bathroom. He checked to make sure it was right before pulling out the cork and passing it to her, still watching her closely.
Gratefully taking the bottle, Gretchen downed half of it, setting it on the end table and dropping back into the couch, closing her eyes as she waited for the potion to take effect. “Fuck,” she groaned.
Fetching himself a drink, Trevor settled into the space beside her and busied himself with lighting a cigarette, still watching him from the corner of his eye. “Alright?” he asked, more concerned with how she was going to be, not how exhausted she currently was, there was no mistaking that.
“Uh huh,” she answered automatically, thought it took her a moment to move, twisting around and tucking herself against him with a little sigh. “Better now,” she draped an arm around him lazily, the potion helping. “Fuck,” she shook her head.
Trevor took a drink before he set his glass down and wrapped his arm around her. “‘Ow much of that thing is left?”
“Dunno,” Gretchen felt better, she wasn’t sure what part of it was his proximity and what part was the potion, but she didn’t care either way. “Few more sessions. It’s really well protected. Why?”
“S’taking a lot out of you,” he muttered distractedly, running a hand lightly through her hair. “I could ‘elp. I’m good with protection wards. S’worth at least a break, isn’t it?”
Moving her head towards his hand, Gretchen shrugged. “MacNair wouldn’t like it,” she told him, twisting to pick her wand up and heal the deep cut in the palm of her hand. “‘m just tired. ‘s nothin’.”
“I don’t care what the ‘ell MacNair likes or doesn’t,” he said, watching the wound mend itself. “You look like shite, Gretch,” he said, meaning well despite the insult. He brushed her hair back lightly, not sure how to express how worried he felt watching her exhaust herself for that box.
“Thanks,” Gretchen responded dryly, shrugging, wanting to move out of his arms but she didn’t have the energy to. She’d been hired for a job, she wasn’t going to give up just because it tired her out a little. “I’m just a little tired, Trev,” she told him again, deliberately misunderstanding his worry. “Don’t worry, give me another few minutes and I’ll be able to go down on you.”
Trevor sighed irritably and took a last drag before he stabbed out his cigarette. He moved out of her arms long enough to stand and scoop her up into his arms. “Don’t need you to do that,” he muttered irritably as he carried her toward the bed room. “M’just....whatever.”
Circling her arms around his neck, Gretchen didn’t even bother to fight his gesture, resting her head against his chest. “Just what, lover?” she asked, her voice gentle. She was still tired now, but it was nothing a nice shower wouldn’t fix. She was fine.
“Nothin’,” he muttered, furrowing his brow at himself as he set her down on the bed and started stripping down.
Settling back on her elbows, Gretchen studied him for a moment, a smirk curling her lips. “Thought I looked like shite.”
Trevor tugged his shirt off and tossed it beside the dresser before turning back toward her, looking at her curiously. “Yeah, you look fuckin’ knackered, what about it?”
She gestured to his semi undressed state and arched an eyebrow. It wasn’t like him to not want sex. She frowned slightly; he must really be worried about her. “You’re not gonna fuck me?”
“Figured you’d be passing out about now,” he said, lifting an eyebrow at her. It wasn’t like he wasn’t happy to shag her anytime or anywhere, but she was completely worn down and hadn’t even been thinking along the sex lines. He was more caught up thinking about how little he liked the situation. He leaned against the desk as he pulled off his boots before tugging down his fly, stripping down to his boxers.
She watched him for a moment, not bothering to take her dress off. “You’re really worried about this, aren’t you?” she asked, moving up the bed and settling on the pillows, reaching out for him.
“You’re not?” He sniffed, settling down beside her.
She shrugged, moving and tucking herself against him, draping herself across him. “‘m better now. It’s just a few more sessions and there’ll be five thousand more galleons.” She idly scratched her fingers across his chest. “Brought you along, didn’t I? You’ll keep anything from happening.”
“I can keep ‘im from doing anything,” he muttered, draping his arm around her as he thought about how much he hated feeling helpless.
Despite Gretchen’s claim that she was fine, the feel of Trevor against her was almost too comfortable. She yawned and moved, making herself comfortable against him. “I’ll be safe,” she murmured, her eyes slipping closed. “With you.”
Sighing, Trevor gave in and nodded, wrapping his other arm around her to hold her as she fell asleep. He closed his eyes as well and didn’t realise how tired he was as well until his thoughts started getting fuzzy, the first sign he was drifting off.