brandi. (zombiephile) wrote in daiquiri, @ 2008-01-15 23:01:00 |
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Entry tags: | 25 flavors, char: margaret kenmore, game: memories 1975 |
25 Flavors: #6, crying (Margaret Kenmore-Smith)
Title: News
Characters: Margaret (Kenmore) Smith and Demetrius Smith (also a brief mention of Margaret's half-sister Brenna)
Setting: Their house, sometime in 1979.
Word Count: 691
Summary: It's all Dimmy's fault, as always. ;D For the 25 flavors prompt "Crying."
Rating: PG for Kenny's language.
Author's Note: I got nostalgic and wanted to write a Dimmy / Kenny fic. :)
"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Margaret yelled before slamming the bedroom door in Demetrius' face. Turning her back to the door, she leaned against it with all of her weight, and she heard Demetrius rattling the door handle. Arms crossed tightly over her stomach, she refused to listen to anything he was saying on the other side of the door. At least Brenna was off at Hogwarts, so she wouldn't be around to listen to them fight. She got enough of that over the hols. Finally, Margaret heard only silence from the hall, and she sank onto the floor, still leaning against the door. Tilting her head back, she let it rest against the wood, eyes squeezed shut against the tears that threatened to fall. That kit she'd bought at the store had confirmed it, but everyone said that those things made mistakes. She just had to go to St. Mungo's and see a Healer and be told that it wasn't true. Margaret pulled her knees up to her chest, wrapped her arms around her legs, and dropped her forehead forward onto her knees. A scuffling noise in the bathroom caused her to jerk her head up in surprise, and she reflexively drew her wand and held it at the ready, lips already forming a curse to throw at whoever was in there. But it was Demetrius who stepped out of the bathroom, and when he saw her with her wand drawn, he froze. "HOW THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU GET IN THERE?" "It took me three tries but I levitated myself through the window." Margaret scowled and lowered her wand. Climbing to her feet, she groped for the door handle behind her. "Fine, if you want to be in here I'll go somewhere else, then." "Kenny --" Margaret was the one to freeze this time. He hadn't used that nickname in a while. "What?" "This isn't bad news," he tried to reason. Margaret turned around to face him again. "THIS ISN'T BAD NEWS? HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT, DIMMY?" Demetrius warily took a few steps closer to Margaret, as if afraid she was going to attack him at any moment. Which wasn't completely unlikely. "It's a baby, Kenny. Babies are happy news!" "Not in my family! Babies aren't happy news, not for me. Or have you forgotten that my mum died giving birth to me?!" "That's not going to happen to you." "Since when were you skilled at Divination, Dimmy?" Margaret shot back. "Or did you perky little Barbie friend tell you that?" Three years later, after having to deal with them when they were dating and then even when they got married, and she still didn't like his friends. Much. "Emily isn't a Barbie and she doesn't read the future, and I don't need to be a diviner to know that what happened to your mum isn't going to happen to you." "How do you know that?" Demetrius ventured closer, close enough that she could hit him, but he was willing to risk that. "I just do." Margaret looked at him, her jaw clenched. Even though they were married, that didn't necessarily mean she was any better at showing emotion around him. Then again, he'd always managed to break down her defenses somehow or other. Even though she was fighting it, a tear slipped down her cheek. "I'm scared," she finally admitted, her voice soft. He closed the distance between them, hugging her close to him. "You don't have to be. I'm here. I'm not leaving. And neither are you." He was the man, it was his job to protect her, after all. And he would, he'd make her feel safe. She let him hold her, burying her face in his shoulder as she cried. She even wrapped her arms around him and clung to the back of his shirt after a few moments. She could always blame this moment of weakness on the hormones, later. After a while, after her tears had subsided, she muttered almost under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear, "If it's a boy, we are not naming him Demetrius Jr." |