InsaneJournal

Mordred sighed, switching the pullet of strawberries to his other hand and trying the front door to the Cobbs flat. Of course, the fruit had been grapes when he'd stopped by the shop to buy them, but they were certainly strawberries now. He'd even tasted one, just to see if he could get what Phil meant when she said they didn't taste the same. They seemed all right to him... Perhaps she wouldn't guess. Anyway, she should try getting strawberries in November.

The flat was locked, which was something he couldn't remember encountering since he was young. A glance at the plaque beside the door informed him that yes, he was in the right place, and Mordred glanced a little guiltily over his shoulder before wrapping pale, cool fingers around the door handle for a second time. A push of magic, a slight warmth over his palm and the lock clicked open.

Mordred swung the door open, sticking his dark head around to peer curiously into the main room. He didn't make a sound. Mordred may have grown up since everyone around here seemed to know him, but he still wasn't a big fan of excessive talking. Given a choice, he'd rather talk to people using other means. Although sadly Phils had never been able to hear his voice in her head.

So it was still completely silent as the young man padded into the room, kicked off his converse  (Mal always hated him tracking mud everywhere) and went to the counter to put the fruit down. He was just examining the huge display of childs drawings that covered the fridge - they were so new - when he heard a bedroom door open. Mordred looked round, then grinned silently in Phil's direction, feeling a rush of affection for his best friend. At least she hadn't changed.