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Tristan T. Travers (alliterative) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

That small swelling in his chest constricted, sending another quick stab of pain through his sternum. His room had been kept the same, but, again, it sounded like Julian didn't want him around. Or maybe his mother didn't want him around. He couldn't blame either of them in the end. He couldn't even blame them, either. He was a convicted Death Eater. He'd been on the wrong side of the war. And he'd left them. He knew he had to deal with that, but he shoved it deep down for now, not wanting to even think about it.

Quietly, Tristan continued to listen to the pair of them, letting himself re-familiarise himself with their voices and banter. He had to admit part of him was curious about whoever it was that had Pandora's attention and possibly her affections, and he laughed a bit at the suggestion that Julian would seduce him away from her. He didn't know if it were possible or not, but the idea still amused him. In his mind, it played out like a comic book.

Taking the journal from Pandora, Tristan flipped through it, finding he had more questions than answers. Like why were they the new owls, and who decided people needed them anyway, and why a journal of all things? Instead of asking anything, he said, "There is way too much to catch up on," and laughed. "I guess your love life is a good place to start, huh? I don't have to stay around, lurking in your place if you're expecting a gentleman caller." He gave her a mischievous smile before wiping it off to order a simple single scoop of vanilla.