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Tweak says, "Welcome to the party."

weasley_rebel (weasley_rebel) wrote in collision_rp,
@ 2013-05-15 12:49:00

Entry tags:

bill weasley, fleur weasley

WHO: Bill and Fleur
WHAT: Adjusting to life without work
WHERE: Their home
WHEN: Wednesday afternoon
RATING: TBA
STATUS: Incomplete

The black box that started all of this sat on the edge of his desk uncovered as he inspected the runes that were etched into the sides of the blasted thing. It amazed him that everything that had happened recently, happened because of this little thing. Bill's eyes flicked from the box to the scrap of parchment before him, as he tried to decipher the little etchings. Godric, this was something he would normally enjoy doing, but was finding it to be tedious.

The tap tap tap of his quill against the top of his desk annoyed him. Right now, everything annoyed him it would seem. In frustration, Bill threw the quill to the desk and pushed his chair away. Standing, he paced and ran his fingers through his hair. "Fleur?" He called out to his wife, curious of her whereabouts as he covered the box and left his office.

"Fleur?" He called again, as he searched the house for her. "Hun?"

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veela_charms
2013-05-17 12:45 am UTC (link)

"I do feel the need," she pointed out. It wasn't like she had much to do when she wasn't working. That was the one thing about work it kept her busy. Now she had nothing to do but fret, worry and walk around aimless pretending she had something to do. At least this way she would be doing something useful with her time. Something that didn't add to the endless worry that had take up residence in her stomach as of late.

"A raspberry peach crêpe..." Fleur said deciding that it sounded good as she drew in a steadying breath and let it out slowly. If she went some where else it was as good as letting Bellatrix win and she wasn't going to allow her to take that from her too. "Non, 'ere is good." With that Fleur drew herself upright and forced herself to walk. The memories were there but it didn't mean she had to let them get the better of her. Putting on a "game face" was something she had perfected long ago. It kept people from knowing how she really felt.

"The usual place?" There was only really one true French establishment in the area and they were typically regulars there. "You are coming to my appointment in a couple weeks right?" She asked already knowing the answer. It was an attempt to focus on something other than the memories bubbling under the surface.

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