phillipa flint (pippips) wrote in reduxpitch, @ 2016-07-23 23:43:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, !world cup, character: phillipa flint, character: viktor krum |
who: phillipa flint & viktor krum
where: the cottage
when: 23 july, evening
what: post-cup blues
rating: s for sadness (but not for sex for once!)
status: complete
Phillipa had gone to the Ireland celebration, but not for long. She was proud of Marcus, elated they'd won, but he had the whole of the Irish wizarding community joyous over him and the team - her presence wasn't really necessary. So she'd had one drink, made sure he knew she was so very proud and happy for him, given plenty of hugs, then slipped out to apparate back to her flat. It took no time at all to change, ditching the green and slipping instead into that which would not be incredibly insensitive to wear to the cottage. Comfortable, easy, and unlike anything she would normally wear ever but especially not where anyone would see her - the Bulgarian jersey she had with a simple pair of leggings underneath. She didn't even bother with shoes. Ireland may have won, but in doing so they'd taken out Bulgaria. As proud as she was of Marcus, she was proud of Viktor, too. His team hadn't won, but he'd played incredibly well throughout the tournament. She doubted he thought so, based on her visit to his locker room after the final match, but she believed it. While she had no guarantee he would be at the cottage, she apparated there with the hope he was - like she'd asked him to be, in an effort to keep him from going out and publicly getting completely shit faced while he was upset. ~~ Viktor had laid it all out on the Pitch. And he was not one to get too into his head about a loss - especially one that had come at the end of such an intense and well fought battle. Ireland was an amazing team. A worthy opponent. He respected Flint’s mastery of his team - he had amazing players. But losing to him...in the FINALS of the Cup. If he had seen that damned snitch ten seconds sooner…. With a growl he got to his feet with an angry wave of his hand - started a fire in the firepit at the cottage. Ten lousy seconds sooner and he would be the one celebrating. He had let his team and his country down. He was Viktor Krum….he was supposed to carry them to victory. On his very broad and still injured shoulder. Rubbing it absentmindedly, he stared into the flames. He had promised Pippa to be here - at home - because he didn’t need to be out with people right now. He was moody and brooding and needed to come to terms with this before he could be the gracious loser in the glare of the public eye. His post season losses were so few in number that they could be counted on one hand. He gripped the whiskey glass in his hand a bit tighter. ~~ It only took a quick walk through from where she'd arrived for Phillipa to find him outside, spotting the fire through a window and making her way out to join him. Even if she hadn't seen him after the game, or known he was bound to be in a mood, the way he was holding himself would have given it away. He was well within his rights to be upset, she wouldn't try to convince him otherwise. Walking over to him carefully, because he seemed so fixed on the fire she didn't know if he'd even noticed her there, Phillipa stepped in beside him and gently rest her hand against the small of his back, thumb rubbing absently on the fabric of his shirt. -- “Ten seconds….ten fucking seconds and I blew a tie game.” He turned and kissed her forehead then went back to his pacing, grumbling in Bulgarian, “And your brother fucking won a game that….” He ran his hand over his fave and took another drink from the glass. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, a small smirk tugged the corner of his lips. “Well, I am at least glad to see that your fashion sense has improved.” ~~ Phillipa frowned softly, letting her hand fall away as he began to pace. Her eyes followed him in the flickering light of the fire, her head tilting to the side. It would have been preferable to her that the final matchup had been someone other than those two countries - but odds were stacked against her for not having a conflict from the beginning. “Oh, excuse me,” she replied, an eyebrow arching up as she gave him a look. “My fashion sense has always been impeccable.” -- He took a seat on a lounger and patted his lap, “C’mere…..” He wasn’t sure what else to do, but to sit and let this feeling work itself out. Because he had promised her he wouldn’t go out and get plastered in public. The last thing he needed was to be seen brawling in a pub tonight. So instead he was sit and drink with Pippa. Because she was one of the few people in the world he thought he could handle being around right now. And he didn’t want to overthink that. He just knew that right now - being at the cottage with her was what he wanted. And that it had been her hand in his in the locker room that had kept him from raging and roaring in there. And he was not going to think on that right now either. Because he was not on top of the World Cup. And Pippa was still there. And right now that is all he needed. ~~ She moved over once he was settled, sitting sideways on his lap and letting her arm drape across the back of his shoulders. Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss against his temple before letting her forehead rest against it. Her fingertips traced idly on his shoulder, and she stayed quiet for a long moment before breaking the silence. “You played so well, Viktor,” she said softly, bringing her free hand up to cup his jaw, leaning back and tilting his head to have him look at her. There was nothing but sincerity behind her gaze. “This isn't your fault. Quidditch is a team sport, and I know so much of that pressure is on you but it wasn't your fault. You got so far, even after getting injured. You're amazing, and I am unbearably proud of you.” -- Hearing her words, he closed his eyes and let them sink in. Summoning the bottle of whiskey, he poured himself another healthy glass of it. After taking a healthy swig and he held the glass out to her, “would you like some - it’s some excellant single malt. Otherwise I do have some of that cabernet from that French winery you liked from the last press tour.” The flames cut into the darkness, “And I will have you know - that your brother was very gracious in victory. So there is that. And the Howlers are going to be forwarded here - and they will be in Bulgarian - so you won’t have to understand them very well…” He turned and kissed her slowly, “But you were actually proud hmmm? I may need to hear that a few more times….” ~~ Phillipa gave a slight shake of her head when he offered her the glass, her nose wrinkling. “Whiskey and I don't get along, so I'll stick with wine, thank you.” She summoned it over and poured herself a glass, leaning in against him and taking a sip before cradling it against her chest. “Well I'm glad for that, at least. He's a pretty good guy, most of the time.” She smirked softly, but tilted her head to make it easier for him to kiss her. “Of course I am,” she said softly, her hand moving from his shoulder up into his hair, fingernails lazily scritching against it. “So very proud, Mr. Krum.” -- He toed off his shoes and propped his feet up, “You know I have come to a very important thought though. It could be rather mind bending though - so I do warn you in advance to brace yourself…..” He paused dramatically for a moment, “I think that I am going to keep drinking and that way when people start owling me to tell me how I have failed an entire country - I will have a good buffer of whiskey protection so that I don’t start owling people back.” He looked at her, “And you are to keep me from doing so - because the last time I did that...the team publicist was pondering killing me in my sleep.” ~~ Phillipa let her fingers keep moving through his hair, her head tilted to be able to watch him better as he spoke. Her lips pursed for a moment and she gave a hum of thought, taking a slow sip of her wine. She had no doubt the owls would be coming, and there was certainly no way to stop them. It was important they be handled properly, though. “I won't stop you from drinking,” she agreed. “Nor will I let you respond to anyone who is stupid enough to send you anything like that. But my thought is that all the owls are going to come through me first. There's no reason for you to have to see every daft thing someone thought to send. I'll check them for idiocy before passing them along to you - unless you've a problem with me reading the mail.” -- Studying Pippa for a moment, “Have you ever read the owls of irate Quidditch fans? Are you sure that you want to start now? I am all for a buffer - because I might need one.” he pulled her closer, “Hell, what do I have to lose? Go for it.” He set his glass down and cupped her cheeks, and kissed her again, letting himself get lost in the taste of her lips and the feel of her hair on his fingers. The way her breathing changed once he started to kiss her. Pulling back he whispered aginst her lips, “How is it you taste better than the whiskey?” ~~ “Not really,” Phillipa replied with a laugh, shrugging a shoulder. She'd seen some things sent to her brother, but nothing as bad as was coming, she was sure. She also didn't care. People thinking they could say horrible things to someone just because of a game - she'd be a buffer for that and for him. She gave in to his kiss easily, looping her other arm around his shoulder and holding her glass carefully to keep from spilling her wine on him. There was the faint hint of whiskey on his lips but she'd grown far used to that, considering how long she'd been kissing him - among other things. “I'm magic,” she murmured in response, fingernails scraping up the back of his head. -- “You must be. Because I was on the verge of breaking things….and now the edge is further away than it was. And I know that is not just the whiskey….” He took her wine and set it down and then shifted her so that she was straddling his lap. Running his fingers through her hair, he whispered so softly, “It’s very heavy you know - the weight of expectation. It can be an albatross. Everyone putting so much faith in you….it can be an inspriation - it can keep you going. But right now it feels like a weight that is crushing me.” “I can count on one hand the time I have let people down in the post-season….” He took a deep breath, “Pippa….I am so sorry….I just feel like I am being crushed right now….” ~~ Phillipa let him move her, settling in with her legs knelt on either side of him and her arms more easily around his neck. She let her fingertips play against the back of his neck as he spoke, frowning softly. Of course she'd known the pressure he put on himself, and that everyone else put on him, but it still made her sad to think about him feeling that way. Outside pressure and expectations were uncontrollable. “You have nothing to apologize about to me,” she said softly, bringing a hand forward to cup his jaw and let her thumb stroke against his cheek. “You're allowed to be upset, and sad, and mad, and so many other things. I'm here, alright? I'm here, and I'll do anything I can to help you from being crushed. You want me to lock all the doors and windows to keep the owls out entirely for weeks? Done. You want me to keep refilling your glass? Yes, but I will make you drink water between, too. You want me to bring you an entire chocolate cake for you not to share with me? Slightly rude, but fine.” -- His chuckle wasn’t the same as it normally was. It was thin, with pain on the edges, “You would let me eat a whole chocolate cake? You have yet to let me finish a slice of chocolate cake when we are out to dinner. So, I am honored that you think that you could let me have an entire chocolate cake.” he looked thoughtful for a moment, “I thinking locking the world out for a few days would be nice. I don’t suppose you would be able to stay…..while the world is locked out?” He knew she had a life and he wasn’t that clingy and needy man. He was proud of her work - the club and her writing. But right now - he was feeling the need to be a little clingy and needy. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer. “Pippa, I think I need some time locked away from the world. And I would love to see if you could let me get a chocolate cake all to myself. Without stealing it or you bribing it away from me….” ~~ Phillipa rolled her eyes slightly, but there was still a soft smile turning up the corners of her mouth. He was right, she always did steal a bite or two - or three. To help him get over the way he was feeling, she liked to think she had enough self control to keep her fork to herself. She let her forehead rest against his when he pulled her in closer, practically no space left between them. “I can stay,” she murmured, fingertips dipping down below the back collar of his shirt, rubbing gently against his back. “I mostly send in writing from home anyway, and I'd put someone in charge at the club for a few days already. I figured win or lose, you might have want of me.” She brushed a kiss against his lips before slowly peppering featherlight ones against his cheeks. “And I will find you a delicious cake.” -- “A delicious cake that is just for me? None for you.” He said, “I think that might help.” He knew the chances of him getting more than a bite before she broke out the face. And the snuggling and he ended up sharing with her. But that one bite would be very decadent. “But for right now, I think you here. With the fire. And no one else. I think this is just right.” His voice was soft and his hands were strong as they kept her pressed up aginst him, “And maybe….you in nothing but that jersey later I may have noticed something mixed in with the muggle mail….Something to help keep my mind occupied.” ~~ “Just for you,” Phillipa confirmed, kissing his forehead before letting her head rest against his shoulder so her face could nuzzle against his neck. She smiled softly at what he said, glad her presence was helpful rather than the opposite. “I'm barely wearing anything more than it already,” she murmured with a soft laugh, her lips brushing against his skin. “But whatever you want.” An eyebrow quirked up at the mention of the mail. “What was it?” -- He just raised a brow and shook his head, and went back to kissing her.lips. And then buried his face in her throat and just held her. Not speaking. Just wrapping himself around her smaller frame. The list of people he would let see him like this - so not in crontrol and hurting - was short. And he was just hoping she understood what it meant. After twenty minutes he pulled back and looked down at her and licked his lips, “The rest of that show….and I realize it’s not that masculine to want to hide in a room and just be there. But right now I can honestly say - I am not caring at the moment. Hide with me and the muggle technology for awhile?” ~~ Phillipa rest her head against his, arms wrapped around him and hands slowly and gently roaming along his back and shoulders, fingertips grazing up his neck and into his hair, keeping him held in close and trying to give him some kind of solace. She didn't say anything, didn't move save for her hands stroking over him, and simply let him be. “Viktor, it doesn't matter what people think is masculine or not,” she said softly, shaking her head. “If you want to hide away in a room and watch something, that's what we’ll do.” She kissed him lightly, humming a little as she pulled back. “I would love to hide with you.” -- At her words, he tightened his hold on her and got to his feet slowly, gently lowering her to stand on her own, “I will put out the fire - how about you get the bedroom set up. I will bring the wine in for you.” He wsan’t going to take the time right now to listen to that nagging little voice in his head, the one that said this was comfortable. She was his safe place. Because he didn’t have it in him for a long thought process right now. Right now he wanted to be in a room, locked away from the world with his witch. No more or less. Well, that and to have control over the remote control. And possibly at some point - enjoy the charms he knew was under that jersey. His jersey. The sister of the Irish captain was there was him - in Bulgarian colors. Shaking his head he started to make a tray of wine, whiskey and work on the charm to keep the fire in embers so that it would be ready for them when they came back to it. ~~ “Okay,” Phillipa agreed once she was on her feet, leaning up to kiss him one more time before disappearing inside the house. It didn't take much effort to get their room ready - there wasn't a wrong way to go with a bed covered in so many pillows and blankets it was easy to get buried and lost. But she propped up the pillows to make it easier for them to sit, and got the coziest of the blankets out for them to curl up under, and ditched the leggings since he'd mentioned it already. With the disc put into the tray and the television turned on, she tossed the remotes back toward the head of the bed and followed after them, nestling back against the pillows as she waited for him. -- Padding into the room, Viktor set the tray down on her side of the bed and stripped completely, pulling on an older worn pair of Durmstrang lounge pants. He studied her for a moment and then leaned into the bed and kissed her softly, “You are rather amazing Pippa Flint. Somehow you have managed to keep me from making the front page of all the papers ever in some sort of brawl.” He slid in behind her and pulled her back against him, summoning their drinks of choice and getting them both situated on the bed with the covers before handing her the red wine, “There we go - already getting a little better. I do have you all to myself. With beverages and the world is safely out there for now.” ~~ Phillipa watched him as he came into the room, gladly watching him change before he came closer to the bed. Between them they had one whole outfit, and that was great. She smiled into his kiss and gave a soft laugh at what he said after. “I told you, I'm magic.” She shifted enough for him to get in behind her and leaned back against him, pulling one of the blankets up over their legs. Once she had her wine, she turned her head to press a kiss against his chest. “I'm all yours, Mr. Krum. You, me, booze, and whatever muggle shows get delivered to our mail. Who cares about anything else.” -- “Well, at least this time I got to the discs first so you didn’t ‘accidentally’ start one and then I know when something is going to happen because you have the worst poker face about this that I have seen.” Viktor said with a soft sigh. Pressing a few buttons, he mentally sent a thank you to the teammate who had married a muggleborn. Because they had turned Viktor on to this muggle service. It had saved him when Pippa was recovering. Between him reading and the muggle shows….. The crime procedural started to play and he snuggled closer to the warmth that was Pippa Flint. ~~ “Listen,” Phillipa said with a laugh, scrunching her nose. “I am very good at lying it's just when we're watching a thing where I know someone's about to get stabbed it is hard to not make a face!” She reached for his hand that wasn't holding his glass, lacing her fingers with his and pulling it so his arm was around her. Maybe she did accidentally watch ahead without him sometimes, but it wasn't her fault he'd had a lot of time away at practice and she'd been invested in the show. This was better, though, with him there all wrapped around her. -- He let her rearrange them to her liking. She always did. And in about two episode she was going to shift so that they were more horizontal….and make him set his drink down because she wanted both of his hands when she got sleepy. “Don’t forget your hair tie - I am not going digging for one because you don’t want to summon it and risk all fifteen million of them flying at you from all over the house.” He said softly, “And yes, you are decent liar. But I suppose I can overlook it....for the right amount of kissing and other entertaining pursuits.” ~~ Phillipa took a sip of her wine then tilted her head back to be able to look at him, a soft smirk twisting at the corners of her mouth. “I have one on my wrist, but thank you for the reminder.” She scrunched her nose and turned her attention back to the television. “And I don't lie to you. Don't worry, I'll still kiss you anyway. Just for fun, but to make up for that.” -- “So let me get this straight. I get kisses, honesty and to be your own personal living body pillow? Now I know I must be a special man to get that kind of attention.” He wrapped himself around her a bit more and kissed her temple. The ice in his glass clinked as he took a sip. He didn’t know what it was about this place - but in this moment he felt some of the pressure left from his shoulders. He just felt warm and safe. He ran his fingers through her hair, and the story playing out on the screen in front of him distracting his brain from the hell that had been his day and replacing it with other things. Other feelings. Leaning over he whispered in her ear, “Do we have anymore of that fudge you hid from me last week?” ~~ “You're the luckiest that's ever been,” Phillipa murmured, nestling back against him and letting herself get even more comfortable with the way he was around her, his fingers in her hair. Her wine glass became empty quickly, and she watched the screen through half-open eyes until he spoke against her ear. “What'll you give me if I tell you?” she whispered back, turning her head to nudge her nose against his jaw. -- He wasn’t really going to argue with her. He felt less shitty and like a failure now that she was here. So he would chalk that up to luck. No problem with that at all. He could feel her almost jerk awake when he whispered and he hid his grin as best he could from her. “Mmm….let’s see….if there is some - a back massage. If there isn’t...a shorter back massage.” Viktor said with a smirk, “And possibly a very pouty man who won’t be so understanding when you want to reconfigure him for naptime here in a few moments.” ~~ “Let me go check then,” Phillipa said, leaning up and kissing the underside of his jaw before untangling herself from him and getting out of the bed to head for the kitchen. There was some, and she knew where it was, so it took mere seconds to get it and bring it back to bed where he was waiting. “Fudge for you…” She set it beside him and crawled back underneath the blankets, settled between his legs. -- “Hoarding the discs, the fudge….” Viktor clucked his tongue at her, “You know - you are very lucky that I am feeling generous by the fact I now have fudge. And not just any fudge. But the truly amazing fudge that I bought. And you said you only wanted a taste of. And now look at how much is gone…” He popped a bite in his mouth and moaned in happiness, “And now the healing from today can truly begin.” ~~ “There is plenty of fudge left,” Phillipa pointed out as she curled up against him, nuzzling against his neck for a moment before she settled in against his chest like before. She tilted her head back to look at him when he moaned, a soft smile playing on her lips. “Do you need to be left alone with your fudge?” -- “I will have you know that this fudge and I have a deep and meaningful bond. It gets me. On a whole level of understanding.” He offered her a piece, “And see? I can share.” He wrapped his arms around her again, linking their fingers and bringing her hand up to his lips to kiss the knuckles softly. “I do thank you so much for reuniting us.” He pulled the blanket up around them a bit more and kissed her temple as he finally got them settled. ~~ “You're so kind,” she replied as she took the piece from him, gladly eating it and relishing the way he had her all wrapped up in his arms. This they could do - behave normally and ignore that anything Quidditch related had happened. “Oh, you're welcome darling,” she murmured, smiling at the kiss to her temple. “Though I remember some mention of a back massage…” |