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Marcus Flint (marcedflint) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

"In the kitchen," Marcus answered, pitching his voice to carry through the flat. He knew that Bryony had entered, the wards had chimed at him to announce the arrival of someone who had been keyed to be able to get past them, and Bryony was the only one whom had the privilege of being able to get in at any time, whether Marcus himself was home or not.

After a little more than a week, the new tattoo on his arm was almost completely healed, and although he hadn't quite worked up to courage to let it show in public yet, he'd started getting used to having it exposed when he was at home. Even he was still surprised on occasion when he caught sight of the arm that was no longer marred with the Mark that signified the worst choice he'd ever made, no matter than the alternative would have been painful and possibly deadly. Marcus had debated on telling Bryony about it before she came over, but in the end hadn't been sure how to say anything, so he was letting her see it instead, his shirt sleeves rolled up passed his elbows.

Setting down the knife he was using to slice up carrots and zucchini, he met her half way across the room, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before stepping away again. "How are you, love?" he asked with a smile, because Bryony had always been the brightest part of his life, and he genuinely enjoyed her company. It had been easier to see her since she'd moved to London - something he was happy to have heard about, if only to get her away from the negative influence that was Iris Capper - though they still didn't get quite as much time as they used to. So it was nice to be able to have his best friend around, and to actually be able to have a conversation. "How's London life treating you?"