Benjy Fenwick wants to be James Dean. (withacause) wrote in find_horcruxes, @ 2009-11-04 13:59:00 |
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Entry tags: | benjy fenwick, greta catchlove |
RP Log: Benjy Fenwick, Greta Catchlove
Who: Greta Catchlove, Benjy Fenwick
When: Late Saturday evening, after this conversation
Where: Banges/Catchlove/Watkins cottage in Hogsmeade
What: Greta really wants to see Benjy after the Ball.
Rating: PG</font>
When Greta arrived back at the cottage after the masquerade, the very first thing she did was stumble into her bedroom to take off what was left of her dress and change into something more comfortable than a corset. That done, she paused in her bedroom doorway, legs wobbling slightly. The evening seemed like such a blur, and none of it in a good way, even though much of it had been good. The happy memories of getting ready with her friends, of singing loudly to ABBA and twirling in her dress in the middle of their sitting room, of arriving at the ballroom and first seeing the decorations and all of the costumes -- those were all sullied now by what had happened, by the appearance of the Death Eaters and their master. Greta shuddered. She wasn't a fool; she knew what was going on just outside her door, what had been going on for years, but reading about it in the Daily Prophet was nothing in comparison to witnessing it first-hand. She closed her eyes and turned back into her room to find her journal, only one thing left on her mind: Benjy. When she'd first spotted the Death Eaters storming into the room, the first thing she had thought was that she might never see him again, and the ensuing horror and honest-to-goodness pain she felt nearly rendered her completely helpless. Somehow, she'd gathered the courage to move and get herself to safety so she would have just one more day with him. That was all she wanted at the time, just one more moment to make sure he knew how much he meant to her. She scribbled a quick note to him in her journal, her hand shaking, and after reading his replies, she returned to the sitting room to wait. It was so, so hard to find anything positive in what had happened, and it was so hard to be patient when she wanted something so much, but all she could do was wait and hope he wasn't delayed in returning to the country. She was all right, Benjy kept telling herself. She'd written in the journals, and she'd told him so. Greta would not lie about that. She knew exactly how important those details were to him. She knew how concerned with her safety he was. Pretending he had been out of the country was easier, unfortunately, with Douglas's journal entry. He'd needed to make sure that his cousin and his wife were all right. If there was anything he could do for them, he would have done it, but Douglas insisted there was nothing for the night. Tomorrow, Benjy would make his way to their home, sit Lizzie on his lap, and keep her occupied with stories while the grown-ups tended to the matter of John Dawlish's funeral. Fuck. Benjy couldn't help his jaw clenching at the thought. Though Sarah wasn't blood, she was family, and by extension, that made John Dawlish family. There was so little family he had left that Benjy took the blow poorly, and now there were more than a few items in his flat now that were beyond magical repair. Enough time had passed that he could pretend to have gone through wizarding customs, and Apparate to Hogsmeade. The knock on the cottage door wasn't quite obnoxious, but there was no mistaking it for anything inside the house. Though expected, the knock at the door made Greta jump, sending her heart racing all over again when she'd only just managed to calm down enough to stop shaking. It's okay, she told herself, it's probably only Benjy, or maybe Addie's parents, or even hers, even though she'd sent them an owl to let them know not to worry, that she was safe. Not every loud noise was going to be something dangerous, but after the night they'd all had, Greta couldn't help being on edge and jumpy. Once the security questions -- formalities that she hated simply because she longed to be able to trust that everyone was who they said they were without wondering if they were there to kill her -- were asked and passed, she flung the door open. It was him, Benjy was there, and suddenly, her composure started to slip again, chin trembling as she tried to force herself not to burst into tears. "I..." She was sure that she looked like a complete mess. Her make-up was smudged and her hair was falling out of the pins they'd used to hold it up and she was wearing the most unflattering clothes she owned, but she didn't care. "I was so --" Her voice caught in her throat and she shook her head a little, finally stepping aside to let him in. Benjy was calm and collected in the face of Death Eaters and time constrained wards that might just explode in his face, but when faced with his terrified girlfriend, Benjy had no means to stop himself from hurrying into the room, slamming the door, and gathering her up in his arms. "You're all right. Thank Merlin you're all right. Where's Addie and Meredith? Is everybody all right?" The second she was in Benjy's arms, Greta couldn't keep the tears at bay anymore, so she buried her face against his body, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. She hadn't felt safe since she first saw the Death Eaters enter the room, not even once she'd arrived home uninjured, but she did with Benjy there. She let that feeling wash over her for a moment before responding to his questions. "Addie's here with Boyd," she said as she pulled her head back, along with one of her arms so she could wipe at her face, finally feeling self-conscious, "and I think Meredith's with her brother, Edward... and probably going to see Barty later. We're all right. In shock, but..." But they were all alive and relatively unharmed, and she was so grateful for that. She took a deep breath and looked up at him. "I was scared I'd never see you again." "Hey, I'm here, love. Shhhh," Benjy soothed her, stroking her hair and holding onto her tightly with his other arm. Blimey, she was shaking and it was breaking her heart. Not for the first time, he wondered if he should never have gotten involved with her. It was possible that he could be in the same position that John Dawlish had been in, and Benjy knew that he wouldn't back down either. He pulled away, glancing around the room for a moment before he found what he was looking for. Benjy pulled her to the couch, easing her onto it and grabbing a tissue out of one of the boxes on the end table. They must have needed them when they got home. He dabbed at her eyes gently before pressing a kiss to her forehead. "It's okay now. You're out of there, and you're safe. Those are the two most important things to me right now." Now seated and no longer waiting around for him, Greta finally felt like she was beginning to relax again. Her heart rate slowed, and although she no longer felt like she was going to burst into tears at any second, his words did stir up another swell of emotion. She still felt incredibly foolish for being so upset when she hadn't been hurt at all, however. She felt young. "I'm so glad you're here, you have no idea. I... all I could think about was you and how I might not get to tell you that I love you, and then I was upset because my friends..." She stole a quick glance in the direction of Addie's room, not even really realising what it was she'd said, which was normal for her, once she started off on a tangent. "I just... I missed you. And it seems stupid to be concerned about this at all, but I'm also glad we got a few pictures of our costumes before..." When everyone was happy. "It's not stupid, Greta. It was supposed to be a party, and yeah, bad things happened, but you shouldn't feel bad for wanting some happy memories of it," Benjy told her, grabbing her hand and pulling her across the sofa to him. He slipped an arm around her. Though he wanted to ask her about her first words, he didn't. If she even realised what she said, she'd bring it up again. There was no need to call her out on it. Yet. Somewhere deep down, she knew he was right, but that didn't stop her from feeling bad over it, not when her mind kept drifting to the people who were worse off and to those who'd lost someone. "Feels stupid," she muttered, cheeks aflame again with embarrassment, but she tucked herself in against him quickly so it wouldn't be as noticeable. It was time to stop thinking about that, she told herself, and time to concentrate on the good things, the most important of which was right in front of her. After resting her head against his chest for a moment, listening to his heart beat, Greta shifted so she was sitting on his lap, her arms sliding around his shoulders in a tight embrace. "I probably look a mess right now," she sighed, leaning her forehead against his shoulder. It would probably have been a good time to return her earlier sentiment - Greta on his lap and looking for an answer in regards to her appearance - but something stopped Benjy. He knew exactly what it was: he'd been there the entire time, at the Ball. He'd even spoken with her, but he couldn't very well tell her who he was, could he? No, he'd only been dating her for four months. Benjy realised their whole relationship had been dodging this lie, and he knew that what he was doing - with the Order - was too important to jeopardise. He'd understood that going into the Order, going into this relationship, but listening to Greta pour her heart out hit him harder than he'd expected. His arms slipped tightly around her waist, drawing her closer until his face was buried in her hair, and all that he could feel was her. But all that he could bring himself to say was, "You don't look a mess. Not at all." As she sat there wrapped up in his arms and listening to every breath, Greta started to think over everything she'd said to him so far, just in case there was something she'd wanted to say and had forgotten. She regretted not having a grand speech planned out ahead of time, because remembering would have been a lot easier, and then she might not have rambled like she knew she had, like she always did, no matter the circumstances. But after a few minutes of sitting quietly with him, she was pretty sure she knew exactly what she'd said. Either he hadn't noticed, or wasn't responding to it on purpose, but whatever his reason was, Greta didn't have it in her to question him. She was much too glad that he'd come back to see her to make a fuss -- not that she thought she had it in her to do that under other circumstances, either. She hated those sorts of girls, and all that really mattered to her was that he was still there. She lifted her head and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek before pulling back to get a good look at him. "You don't have to go anywhere tonight, do you?" "If they try to send me somewhere, I'll -- what is it you're so fond of saying? I'll hex them in the balls? Every ounce of manliness inside is protesting, but I'd do it," he told her solemnly, though he hoped it got something of a laugh out of her. A smile would suffice. He couldn't stand to see her so upset. She should be revelling in being out of school and learning her independence, not hiding in her cottage frightened out of her mind that she might not live to see the next day. Benjy tilted his head slightly. "Do you want to come back to my place? Or should we stick around for Boyd and Addie, just in case?" And a laugh was exactly what he got. Greta tried to keep it in, but the harder she tried to keep it in, the more she giggled, until she was about to cry. It felt incredibly silly to laugh over seemingly nothing, but between the expression on Benjy's face and the image of him going after someone's balls and how mentally taxing the entire evening had been, she was sure a screw had gotten loose somewhere. The strange thing was she didn't even care. It felt good to laugh. "In my defence, I'm mostly talk. Meredith's the one you have to worry about.," she reminded him, leaning in to kiss him properly. "And I think I'd like to go to yours." Beyond the extra privacy they'd have there, Greta simply liked staying over at his flat, and it was one of those nights where she felt like the desire for that comfort -- namely his bed -- was warranted. Addie probably expected Greta to stay the night at Benjy's, anyway. "I'll leave a note, so they don't worry... but maybe in a bit. I don't particularly want to get up yet." "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere," Benjy told her. Though Greta wasn't likely to want a heavy make-out session in the middle of the living room she shared with two other girls, Benjy absolutely didn't care for the moment. If she had a problem with it, he could blame it on stress. Hell, it was stress. He wasn't injured the same way he'd been after Kings Cross, but she hadn't been in the midst of that battle. This time, he could just as easily have lost her. "Definitely not going anywhere." |