WHO: Marcus Flint, Persephone Flint, and Katie Bell WHAT: Marcus learns he should just stay away from blondes WHERE: Marcus's flat WHEN: Saturday Afternoon RATING: R - Language STATUS: In progress
It hadn't been a particularly interesting Saturday thus far. Clint was still out of town on his honeymoon and Adrian was doing...whatever it was that Adrian usually did. Family business, muggleborns...the usual. Marcus didn't really have a reason to leave his flat other than his current lack of cigarettes which was a bit disheartening. Normally he'd have just sent for some but he'd been looking forward to getting out of his place for a bit. The overall brightness of it had been giving him a headache.
While running to the store, he'd only gotten mildly assaulted once which was quite honestly a new record for him. It was a bit off putting, really. Not that he liked being assaulted but he always loved the opportunity to not-so-nicely turn some love forlorn groupie down. It must have been an off week or something. Then again, people seemed to have a difficult time recognizing him if he wasn't completely clean shaven and in a black shirt, so the grey he was wearing with his jeans was probably throwing people off. After taking his sweet time walking back to his new building, he decided to take the stairs to the top. Sure it was quite a few floors up but he was fucking bored. He'd been hoping Katie would stop by or something but the chances of that seemed to lessen drastically as the day wore on. Well, if he got too bored he supposed he could always sign some of those work papers he'd been putting off.
When he reached his floor, his attention was automatically caught by something - someone - standing by his door and he momentarily weighed his options of just sending a killing curse her way or turning right back around and getting the hell out of there. However, as she spotted him and gave him that all too familiar smirk, he realized that neither were really options, so instead he walked towards his door, refusing to make eye contact if at all possible. Who knew what sort of Medusa-like tricks she'd picked up over the years?
"Persephone," he said with a small sneer. "I thought I smelled your special blend of desperation and venereal diseases."
"Good to see you too, Marcus," she said with a roll of her eyes. She gave him an unamused look as she moved to stand behind him, waiting for him to open the door.
However, he didn't bother. Instead, he turned around to face her, more than uncomfortable with the way she was standing just close enough so that her breasts brushed his arms in the process. "You can leave now," he said with a sarcastic smile. He didn't even bother asking her how she'd found where he lived. Persephone was finely tuned in the skill of blowing people until she found out what she wanted to.
"I just wanted to say hello. See how you're doing and all that. You were so occupied at the wedding that I barely got to see you," she said with what she probably thought was a cute and innocent pout.
"Maybe you should have taken the hint?" he asked with a brow raised.
"C'mon, Marcus. I just want to...catch up," Persephone all but purred as she took a small step forward, her hand moving over the fly of his pants all too skillfully to have been any sort of accident. Marcus quickly, and roughly, grasped her wrist before shoving her forcefully back. Sure, you weren't supposed to get rough with a woman but Persephone couldn't really be considered a woman of any sort.
"You've got five minutes. And keep your hands to yourself," he said as he turned back towards his door and opened it to let her in. If she was going to continue to try to grope him, it might as well be in a not so public place. After all, he wasn't sure he'd be able to talk his way out of crucio-ing his sister-in-law if there were witnesses.
He followed her inside, closing the door behind him. She turned to him, mouth open and ready to start talking, but she stopped as he walked past her, not bothering to look at her. Marcus might have been bored, but he was never bored enough to willingly want to put up with his whore of an ex. Of course, he'd known this was coming ever since he'd heard about Ethan's little infertility problem. He headed towards the kitchen to grab himself some water, completely unamused by the clacking sounds her heels made as she followed him. "Your five minutes are quickly disappearing," he called to her over his shoulder.
He didn't have a chance to get to the kitchen however, before Persephone had managed to turn him around and shove him into one of the chairs in his dining room. She looked down at him, batting those overly long, clearly charmed, eyelashes of hers in the process. "I'm sure you've heard about Ethan's...problem," she said as she slowly ran her hands up his shirt while her legs moved so that they were straddling his. Marcus let his head fall back slightly in annoyance, hoping she'd hurry up with whatever it was she had to say.
"Point?" he asked.
"Well," she started as one of her arms slowly wrapped around his neck. "We still want a baby. But it has to have Flint blood," she continued as her fingers began to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. Marcus momentarily thought about just shoving her off of him now but he really wanted to actually hear her ask him this so that he could laugh about it with Clint later. And when he didn't immediately move to get her off of him, Persephone took that as her cue to continue. "So we were hoping, well, I was hoping - " So she clearly hadn't brought this up to that husband that she's so obviously devoted to.. "- that you would be willing to...help me out," she finished as she pressed closer to him.
He couldn't move his hands to stop her fast enough, however, before she was full on straddling him, her hips pressing into his. She must have pulled her wand out of her tits or something because just as quickly as she'd straddled him, her wand was pointed and binding his wrists together behind the chair. After setting her wand aside, both of her hands moved to undo his fly. Well, this was just fucking perfect. He was about to get raped by a five foot nothing slag and he couldn't do much about it at the moment. He almost couldn't help the dry laugh that he made at the entire fucking situation. It was clearly time to move again.