Who: Ashleigh Spinnet and Aisling Astor. What: Dinner before Ashleigh redoes her kitchen. When: Sunday 8th March, evening. Where: Ashleigh's flat. Rating: PG
It had been a long, exhausting - Well, everything had been exhausting for so long that Ashleigh couldn't accurately remember when it had all started. She was more tired of her job than ever, still resentful that Alicia could change career path knowing she had a safety net that Ashleigh would never have, worried about Terence, and this latest whatever-it-was with Axel had been the high note that shatters the goblet, as it were. Ashleigh wasn't proud of the way she'd run to Asher, pressing her face to the muscle of his shoulder and letting him hold her until the world seemed a little less horrible. It had worked, in a way, had let her clear her mind enough to start worrying.
Which is how she'd ended up at Panquake House with soup and pain potion, because Axel had been hurt. Ashleigh hadn't had a lot to do with physical violence in her life. Asher risked injury in his quidditch position, and Alicia had fallen from her broom at school and Terence had obviously been to war - but no one had come after them maliciously and personally, and Ashleigh hadn't had to see the effects before even a healer had been summoned. She'd tried to make Axel go to St Mungo's, but he'd not only refused that but insisted he didn't need to eat. Ashleigh had ended up just sitting beside him. Initially she'd thought she could wear him down by sheer insistence, but he'd won that battle. It had surprised them both when he'd put his arm around her and Ashleigh hadn't flinched, or pulled away, or told him to stop.
She'd left when she started to feel sleepy, because falling asleep on Axel's shoulder was unthinkable. After a night in her own bed she felt - better. Her world wasn't completely set to rights, by any means, but she wasn't so exhausted just by existing as she had been most of the week. Even another protracted conversation with Axel hadn't sent her spiraling back to that place, though she was frustrated at his appalling timing. By the time Aisling was due to arrive, everything was ready. The table was set, the polished cutlery reflecting the large light fixture that Ashleigh was really rather fond of. It would be a shame to lose it, but she did want to try some brewing and for that she would need the kitchen space. Besides, Ashleigh didn't keep anything around for very long - she took too much joy in the redesigning.
Aisling was, of course, right on time, and Ashleigh ushered her into the kitchen. "I don't think my food quite merits this," she said, examining the bottle of very expensive wine Aisling had delivered into her hands. "I actually cooked, and it's just pasta." Of course Ashleigh could cook, she just didn't enjoy it much. "Still, I'll have a glass if you will."