Who: Daphne and Clint When: Fridays, 10.21.02 Where: Their flat. What: Alone time and some news. Status: In Progress Rating: Language, happy things
Clint was exhausted. It had been a very, very tiring week. He'd been at the hospital since Bell had been brought in Thursday morning. The owl from Marcus had arrived and he'd headed out in the middle of the night, only coming home to shower and then back to Falmouth to run practices and then back to the hospital. He'd hardly seen his wife and was glad his sister, well, he was just glad she was alive. The shit that had happened to her was atrocious and she hadn't said a word to anyone. He'd never seen someone look catatonic. She just sat there, staring at the wall. The only sign of life was the rise and fall of her chest and those moments when she'd squeeze Marcus's hand. His mate was torn up over all of it but Katie was strong. She'd come back. He knew she was a tough little bint and he had no doubt in his mind that she'd be back to driving him mental before the year was out. It'd take time, of course. He'd pushed all his emotions aside but now? Now that he was at home, he tried not to focus on what happened to his sister. It was fucking awful. He couldn't even imagine and the idea of any of that happening to any woman? Fucking sick.
Rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, Clint sat in his library, drink in hand. Daphne and Astoria had been up to something and he hadn't wanted to interrupt but he'd dropped a kiss on his wife's forehead and mumbled something before heading to his library. Daph had organized the entire room and he had to admit, it was looking pretty nice. The books were alphabetized by author and in their proper genre's with his first editions taking up half an entire wall. He needed to send something to Katie but flowers and the like just seemed to trivial. He'd send them anyway and maybe a copy of Quidditch weekly. The one where they'd compared her and Marcus and had said that Katie would break his record by the end of the season. That would cheer her up.
Tossing back his drink, he looked up, smiling when Daphne came in. It was strange, this marriage business. But, he'd settled in much better than he'd thought he would. Course, he'd been bred for this life and it shouldn't be that much of a shock. "Hey gorgeous," he said, watching her hold her stupid kitten. That thing followed him around the house whenever he was home. He pulled her into his lap, letting his arms settle around her waist, just content to hold her for a minute. "Did you pick a name for that thing?"