davies; ROGER (rgrd) wrote in reduxpitch, @ 2016-10-05 08:20:00 |
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Entry tags: | !thread, character: daphne greengrass, character: roger davies, location: diagon alley |
who ? daphne greengrass and roger davies
when ? early wednesday morning, 5th october
where ? roger's house
what ? mornings
status ? complete
Like every work day, Roger’s alarm went off at six am. It was, as always, too early. As in, actually too early. There weren’t many things Roger was good at when it came to his job, but actually getting there on time or early, that Roger could manage. Even if it meant that he got up an hour before he really needed to. It did also allow him plenty of time to get ready and eat and read the papers. What was different from every other morning when Roger’s alarm went off, though, was waking up to his legs tangled with Daphne’s, an arm draped over Daphne’s stomach as Roger blinked awake, blindly reaching to stop his alarm from blaring at them.
When the silence returned, Roger yawned before leaning in closer to Daphne, absently pressing a kiss against her cheek. Maybe if Roger was a touch less sleepy, he’d tell himself that this was really a worrying level of domestic, but as it was, the blankets felt warm and the bed felt soft, and Daphne felt lovely against him. “Gotta get up for work, Daph,” he told her sleepily, turning slightly so he could actually make some sort of effort at untangling his limbs from Daphne’s and stretching. Next on the agenda was actually getting out of the bed.
--
Daphne really didn't want to get up. She'd tried to ignore the sound of the alarm, tuning it out in favor of the warmth of Roger's arms around her. The little kiss he placed against her cheek did rouse her enough to smile even before she opened her eyes. "Do I have to?," she asked him, voice heavy with sleep. She did crack one eye open, though, and peered over at him as he untangled himself from her.
She would have gladly rolled over and gone back to sleep for another hour if he'd let her, but she knew that he had to get up and get ready for work. She needed to do the same. It was why she'd planned ahead and brought clothes to wear to work. It would take out that step of going back to her own flat bright and early to shower and dress before heading to her own job. "Just when I was really enjoying sleep," she said, yawning.
--
“Yes,” Roger replied with a soft laugh when Daphne asked if she had to. “Sadly, that is the life of an adult,” he informed her amused before making the effort to get up. Everything outside the blankets came as a disappointment and Roger would’ve quite happily stayed in bed with Daphne instead, but as it was, getting up really was required. Reaching to put up the light, Roger made a face at it. One of the worst parts about getting up at six am was that it was still dark. Darkness was not inspiring for waking up, really.
Glancing towards the kitchen, or rather the direction of the door, Roger looked back at Daphne. “The coffee should be brewing already,” he told her. Magically setting his coffee machine to begin brewing coffee at five to six was one of the best things Roger had ever done, he was sure. “I’m going to go have a shower,” he added. The temptation to invite Daphne to come with him was rather great, but Roger doubted it’d be all that productive to actual showering.
--
The light was far too bright and bothersome for that morning. Daphne scrunched her face and squinted her eyes at it. She blinked several times just to get used to the brightness before focusing on Roger. Coffee sounded fabulous and she nodded at the mention of it. A shower sounded good too, but she was certain that if she joined him, there would be little cleaning going on. She could take a shower once he was through. Waiting would give her the chance to make breakfast.
"Sounds good," she said, reluctantly untangling herself from the blankets and getting out of the bed. "I'll partake in some of that coffee in the meantime." As was practically a custom now, Daphne located Roger's shirt from the night before and slipped it on, then padded barefoot towards the kitchen for the coffee and to start breakfast.
--
The shower didn’t take Roger very long, which was one of the reasons why six am starts really were too early. He didn’t need two and half hours to get ready to be at work for a nine am start. In fact, two and half hours still got Roger to work for half eight rather than actually nine. But it also ensured he wasn’t late. Returning to the bedroom after his shower, Roger found some clean underwear and pulled on his work trousers, followed by an undershirt and then a shirt, which he didn’t bother to button up just yet.
Joining Daphne in the kitchen, Roger located a mug filling it with coffee, taking a satisfying sip before he looked over at Daphne, smirking slightly as he watched her cook, Roger’s shirt she was wearing barely covering her arse. “There’s something very satisfying in seeing you wear my shirts,” he told her, leaning against the kitchen counter as he took a sip of his coffee. “Especially when it’s nothing but my shirts,” he added with another smirk.
--
Daphne looked over at him, a smirk of her own echoing his. "It's probably the fact that you can see my assets peeking out from underneath," she said. It was very strange, like many things about their meetings, to be making breakfast wearing his shirt while he drank coffee and gave her those unfairly sexy smirks. Daphne was no less confused now than she had been from the very first time they'd met. If anything, perhaps she was moreso confused. Unwilling to just walk away, she had reached a point of acceptance.
"I must really like you," she commented. "Up before the sun, making breakfast. I usually don't even do that for myself." Mornings were definitely not Daphne's favorite time of day.
--
Roger snorted when Daphne pointed out that he was mostly probably appreciative of the parts that his shirt was not. There was certainly a part of that, especially as Roger took in Daphne’s bare legs, the way her arse curved, it wasn’t unappealing, hardly. But there was more to it, even if Roger couldn’t quite say what. The temptation to move in closer and run his hand over those curves was really quite great, but Roger drank some more of his coffee instead and carried on watching Daphne rather than touching her. It’d be a lie to say that it was easy to stop himself, though.
And then Daphne told him how she must’ve really liked him as she wouldn’t do this even for herself and Roger blinked. It was nice. It felt nice to have her be there, chat with him as the sun rose and cook him breakfast. Roger didn’t want for it to feel nice but if there was anything he’d learned in the past three weeks of knowing Daphne, it was that there seemed very little point in fighting how she made him feel. “Maybe I’ve bewitched you,” Roger offered referencing their conversation on the journals last night. “Unintentionally,” he added since if Roger had, he certainly hadn’t aimed to do so.
Getting plates out from one of the cupboards, Roger moved them next to the oven so Daphne could move the food over easier. Now that he was close enough, Roger gave Daphne’s hip a small bump with his own. It had to be better than running his hand over and under her (his) shirt, Roger figured. And then, because he had thought of that, Roger reached out to stroke over Daphne’s arse, as he refused to not do anything his mind suggested he shouldn’t.
--
Daphne grinned at his response. "Unintentionally," she parroted back to him. "My, what a wizard you are, Roger Davies," she teased. Maybe he had bewitched her. Maybe she'd done the same to him. Perhaps it was just a combination of the pair of them that resulted in some chemical reaction that neither of them could see nor understand. It would explain the strangeness, she supposed. She had to wonder if it was even possible to accidentally bewitch someone and if it was, could something like that really have the effects that the last few weeks had seen between them?
Dishing the food onto the plates that Roger provided, Daphne tilted her head up to look at him. "I hope I didn't keep you up too late last night," she said. "Can't have you falling asleep on the job. You might start rethinking our little sleepovers."
--
Roger laughed at Daphne’s teasing because it was funny. Perhaps if they hadn’t lived in a world filled with magic, the prospect of bewitching would sound more realistic and not at the same time. As it was, though, they both knew magic and knew that magic didn’t really do those sort of things. The closest that there was to bewitching was probably love potions and neither of them had actually experienced any of the signs that came with a love potion. Whatever was going on between them, Roger felt they might just have to stay confused about it and do their very best to ignore how strange all of it felt. Especially since the strangeness also felt nice.
“No,” Roger said with a shake of his head. “I feel quite well rested, really,” he admitted since he honestly did. Neither of them could’ve gotten more than five hours of sleep, but Roger didn’t feel like he needed more. Not right now, at least. Maybe come the afternoon he might rethink it. “You say ‘sleepovers’,” Roger commented taking one of the plates and moving over to the table, putting his mug of coffee down as he took a seat. “But it’s really just more of a booty call, isn’t it?” Except perhaps you didn’t actually then sleep on those. Maybe.
--
Daphne collected the other plate and the cup of coffee she'd made for herself, moving over to the table as he asked that question. She wasn't entirely sure how to respond to it. Something about the term he'd chosen made her feel strange and she wasn't all that certain she wanted to understand why it made her feel that way. "I guess that's one way to look at it," she said, shrugging her shoulder. "Is that what you see it as?"
--
Something in the way Daphne asked that made Roger want to tell her that it wasn’t. That he didn’t just view her coming over as a booty call. The urge was so strong, that Roger very intentionally pushed it down before responding. “You came over for sex, what would you call it?” He asked not harshly but probably not as nicely as he could’ve done. Or even as nicely as he wanted to. The wish to spitefully lie to her about what Roger thought and felt was--well, he wasn’t sure it was much of a wish at all, more of a habit that Roger felt he had to carry on with. He wasn’t sure what the point of it was, though, other than to pretend like he wanted to be untruthful to her.
“No,” Roger said finally with a shake of his head. “I’d like to claim that that’s what I see it as, but I didn’t ask you to come over for sex,” there, Roger frowned. “Well, no, I did, but,” another shrug. “I don’t know. I didn’t want you to come over just for sex,” though, Roger wouldn’t be able to tell her what else he did want her to come over for. At least he didn’t think he could.
--
Daphne knew in many ways, especially from the outside looking in, that it was all about the sex. He wasn't wrong in calling it a booty call because he had invited her over with the knowledge that sex was likely to happen. She'd accepted that invitation with that same knowledge. "I don't come over here just for the sex," she told him. She felt no reason to lie about that fact. "I've told you before, I like spending time with you. Doesn't really matter what we're doing in that time."
She'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the sexual aspects of their relationship - or lack thereof - but that wasn't the only thing that kept her coming back to Roger again and again. She liked his company. Very much. The day they'd spent on the train and out by the waterfall had been completely clothed and was one of her favorite moments with him. The thought of that made her blink a little and she shook her head to refocus her attention on the moment occurring now. "I don't have to sleep with you to want to see you. It's just, I don't know, a perk."
--
“Are you sure you don’t come over here just for sex late in the evening when we then do nothing but have sex and go to sleep?” Roger asked teasingly, since that was exactly how last night had gone. He did get what Daphne meant, though. Roger liked having her there. Liked the ease with which he found talking to her, or the exact opposite - sitting in silence with her. Whatever Daphne had done to him, and Roger was still convinced she must’ve done something, it made Roger talk to Daphne about things he barely ever even admitted to himself.
Having some of the food - which was much nicer than what Roger usually cooked himself for breakfast - he gave Daphne a thoughtful look. “Can’t it be both? Sleepover and a booty call?” Roger offered. “I mean, you say the sex is a perk, but frankly, I will be very sad if it goes away,” which was partially true. Roger certainly did enjoy the sex a great deal but he was also quite sure he’d be more disappointed if Daphne stopped spending time with him altogether, sex or no sex.
--
"No," she admitted. "The cuddles were pretty compelling as well." It was the truth, despite how ridiculously cute the words sounded now that they'd slipped out of her mouth. She liked just being there with him, even if they didn't do anything at all but sit together on the sofa, him reading one of her notebooks and her going about filling up another. She wasn't sure she could have said the same about the majority of the people she knew. How many were around that she would just enjoy their presence?
His compromise made her laugh and she picked up her mug to take a drink of her coffee. Yes, why couldn't it be both? "I think maybe you're right," she told him, nodding as she returned her mug to the table. "Both. Both is good."
--
Roger couldn’t help but roll his eyes when Daphne informed him that the cuddling was compelling, too. He couldn’t even object to it, because Roger had woken up with his arm draped over Daphne and his legs tangled with hers. There was hardly another word to describe it. And he had enjoyed it, too. “Must we call it that?” He asked nonetheless. “Can’t we go with the somewhat less sweet sounding ‘prolonged physical contact’?” Which definitely sounded less... well, just less.
After taking another bite of his food, Roger looked at Daphne. “I like spending time with you, too,” he told Daphne, repeating her words from earlier. “Especially when you cook for me half naked,” he added both teasingly and truthfully.
--
Daphne laughed at his dismissal of the word "cuddles". She wasn't sure what else it could be called and when he offered up a suggestion, she very nearly snorted. "Prolonged physical contact," she repeated because it was silly and amusing. "Are you that opposed to things that sound sweet? I guess I need to rethink calling you "sugar" in my head," she teased. It was impossible to keep herself from poking him a little about his aversion to sweet sounding things.
Hearing that he liked spending time with her, naked or otherwise, made her smile. "Good," she said. "I hadn't really planned on halting these meetings, whatever they're called, anytime soon anyway."
--
Roger did make a face when Daphne jokingly told him she’d consider ceasing to call him ‘sugar’ in her head. He was well aware that it was a joke and at this point Roger as rather convinced that half the time she said shit that made him feel odd, she did so very intentionally to mock him. It was rather effective, he had to give her credit there. “The whole thing is already confusing, I don’t feel the need to emphasise that,” he told her with shake of his head.
But then, when Daphne said that she had no intention to stop seeing Roger, there was a warmth that spread down and across his stomach that he really wasn’t sure what to do with. It was pleasing. The idea that he could continue seeing her, naked or not. “Do you find that you tell me things that you don’t intend to?” He asked almost curiously. “Like the conversation we had yesterday in the journals,” Roger explained. “I write things down, seemingly without thinking and then I do think about crossing them out and--” There he shrugged slightly. “Then I don’t,” which was basically the summary of exactly what had happened. Roger just didn’t know why.
--
His question earned him a small shrug. "Sometimes," she admitted. "It's just so easy to talk to you. I don't really think about what I'm saying because it's very effortless. Conversations with you are just, I don't know, fluid? It probably sounds very silly, but I just don't think you're going to judge anything that I'm saying negatively so I don't really sit and try to censor what I'm saying before it comes out. That's nice, honestly." Daphne quite liked not worrying about what she was saying. Being able to just say anything she needed to say or wanted to say without worrying about the repercussions. "Maybe it's because I know you're just as confused as I am," she said, shrugging again.
Daphne took a bite of her food and tried to make some sense of anything she'd just said. "Surely we can't be the first people to ever feel this way," she said, looking up at him. "But, that thought is kind of frightening, too."
--
“I don’t judge you,” Roger commented honestly. He didn’t think, for one, it was his place to judge her, but for another, Roger really didn’t think Daphne was yet to say anything that warranted judging. She’d been in a confusing relationship and had felt confused over her sexuality and, well, that didn’t seem like something Roger had any right to comment on. “I expect you to judge me,” he told her before giving a small shake of his head. “No, that’s not true,” he corrected. “I want you to judge me,” that was far more accurate as an admission. “And then you don’t. No matter what the shitty things I’ve said or done, you just--” There he shrugged again because Roger didn’t really get it. “You just seem to accept that,” which was true. Roger had told Daphne a lot of things he’d done that he felt definitely deserved her to judge him and she simply didn’t. Roger wasn’t sure why.
Finishing his coffee, Roger got up to refill the mug, bringing the pot over to refill Daphne’s, too. “Yeah,” he agreed. “But I think if we’re going to look for explanations and labels that’s going to quickly take us down hill,” and by ‘that’ Roger mostly meant ‘him’, because those were not the sort of things Roger wanted in his life. Having Daphne as a friend? That was a label Roger could work with. Anything past that was very likely to end with him actively attempting to not see her. Which was why Roger just tried to ignore the voice in the back of his head that insistently asked him what he was doing.
--
"Good people do bad things," she told him, shrugging her shoulder. "Sometimes they do really shitty things. There's no point in berating someone about something that happened in the past. And if the worst thing you're going to tell me is that you shagged a friend's girl, well, that's not really that horrible. At least you had a reason. Maybe it wasn't a good reason, but the intentions weren't to hurt anyone. I don't think that Arran would have left the girl he was engaged to if it had been someone else," she admitted. "I think that's why you did it, even if you don't agree." It was probably silly to even have the conversation, but it was how Daphne felt. "Either way, those things don't have anything to do with me. Until you've hurt me, I'm not going to judge you." Maybe not even then.
The mention of labels made her nod a little. "I think you're afraid of calling this something because you don't want it to be," she told him, wrapping her fingers around her mug. "But, if you don't put a label on something and it's still that thing, have you really avoided it? Whether it's cuddling or prolonged physical contact, it's still the same thing, isn't it?"
--
Roger wasn’t really sure what to say to Daphne’s assessment of what had happened between him and Arran, what was probably still happening between him and Arran. She was right, Roger hadn’t wanted to hurt his best friend, but he had also know that he would. That hadn’t stopped him. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he said instead, truthfully. Roger never set out to hurt people. Well, perhaps he had set out to hurt Cariad but frankly, she had set out to hurt Arran and Roger wouldn’t stand for that. “I probably will anyway,” he added since that, too, was true. Roger might not ever set out to hurt someone but he was well aware that he still did. It was why he never dated anyone for long, why he avoided getting tangled up in emotions. That never ended well.
At the logic Daphne offered, Roger blinked, because it was logical. She certainly had a point and Roger wasn’t too sure how he felt about that. “It make me feel--” Roger shrugged in the pause. “I don’t know,” he admitted honestly before waving his hand over the general area of his chest. “Less weird,” he settled on, before clarifying. “If I don’t ascribe touchy-feely words to it. Like cuddling,” he said saying the word almost like it was somehow dirty.
After a moment, Roger sighed, reaching for his coffee. “This is what I mean,” he explained. “I don’t know why I tell you these things and I don’t think you realise just how weird it is that I do.” Arran and Lydia certainly had. Max probably would, too. Basically, anyone who knew Roger, including Roger, knew how odd the whole thing was. Except for Daphne, who only knew a Roger who talked about things.
--
Daphne believed that he didn't want to hurt her. She didn't want to think about the fact that he probably would. If she could continue on in a world where he wasn't hurting her and she could just enjoy the time they spent together, Daphne would do so for as long as it was possible. She couldn't help but wonder if there was something that held him back from wanting to form those sorts of attachments to people. It seemed, from her perspective, that he was afraid to let anyone get too close. The moment things became too, as he'd put it, touchy-feely, he seemed ready to run.
"Why do you think that touchy-feely words make you feel weirdly?," she asked him. "Are you afraid of this being too much?" It seemed that way, but perhaps she was reading into it too much.
"I don't think I understand how weird it is," she admitted, nodding. "It feels like you've been pretty open from the start. I'm not sure why that is. I wish I could give you some sort of answer or tell you that everyone is like that around me, but I'm sure there are plenty of people that would rather not tell me anything." Like Tracey. She tilted her head and looked at Roger thoughtfully. "Would you rather that you didn't tell me things?"
--
Was Roger afraid of this being too much? Probably. He didn’t have an answer to why it made him feel weird, uncomfortable. It just did. It wasn’t even Daphne, per se, it was the basis of majority of Roger’s friendships and relationships. He didn’t like engaging with any emotions that either stirred up, opting to either ignore them or leave. That was the main reason why, despite having dated plenty, Roger had never lasted in a relationship. Friendships were slightly better, but only because the very, very few friends he had were willing to put up with Roger only opening up to them under duress. Or booze. Mostly booze. Lydia had cracked that one quite early on.
The question of whether Roger would have rather not told Daphne was much easier to answer. “Yes,” he said plainly. There didn’t seem any reason to lie to her. About this or anything else, as Roger was quickly discovering. “I feel like telling you things is sooner or later going to backfire on me,” he admitted. That wasn’t just Daphne, though, that was pretty much anyone and everyone Roger knew. Except he didn’t tell them that. “And yet, I don’t seem to mind?” Roger added with a small shrug. “It’s not that I want it to backfire, well,” Roger shrugged. “Maybe a little, just to prove to me how stupid I’ve been,” there was something oddly appealing about that and Roger was well aware that that was so messed up he really shouldn’t even entertain it. “But it doesn’t seem to stop me? Like this conversation,” he said waving his hand between them. “Who has these sort of conversations before seven am? Or ever?” Surely people didn’t?
--
"And what if it doesn't backfire on you?," she asked. "What then?" Daphne wondered if his whole world would feel strange and backwards if what he was expecting didn't ever end up happening. Either way, Roger didn't seem to be holding back his conversation, weird or otherwise. "What if you're not being stupid, just human?" It was possible that this was what other people did as they readied for their mornings, but she wasn't sure she could speak for anyone else.
"Guess it's just one more case of being lucky," she said, laughing softly and shaking her head. "Or insane. Maybe both."
--
Roger literally had no idea what he was going to do if this didn’t backfire on him. There was no contingency plan, because in Roger’s experience things always ended up being fucked in one way or another. The possibility of things not doing so was strange and foreign, to the point where Roger couldn’t really even imagine what that might feel like. “I guess we just carry on until we don’t,” Roger said with a shrug because really, that seemed the most obvious way to proceed.
Daphne’s laugh made Roger smile in response so automatically he didn’t even have time to consider not smiling. “As long as there’s great sex,” Roger said teasingly and it was, too. They both knew, had already admitted, that the great sex was not the only appealing thing about the whole situation.
--
Carrying on until something stopped them was probably the only thing that made sense. Daphne found herself hoping that nothing would stop them, but she didn't let that thought linger very long before pushing it aside and refocusing on the conversation.
"I keep waiting for that to change, but it hasn't yet." Daphne thought it had been a fluke the first time, then the first few times, now it was pointless to assume it was going to be anything less than satisfying. "If it will make you feel better, I'll avoid the touchy-feely words," she said.
--
“Me, too,” Roger agreed. The fact that the sex really wasn’t getting worse was genuinely surprising. At times it even got better and that was really very confusing when Roger already was sure that this was the best sex he had ever had. It certainly did nothing to make him want to stop.
At Daphne’s offer that she’d try to avoid touchy-feely words, Roger laughed. “I appreciate that,” he told her amused but also genuine, because Roger really did appreciate it. Even if he suspected that she might still end up saying them just to mess with Roger. There was something oddly appealing about that, too, and Roger was sure it was a clear sign of madness.
Glancing down at his wrist watch, Roger grinned at Daphne. “You going for a shower?” He asked her raising an eyebrow. “Because I’m really quite tempted to offer to join you, despite having showered already,” and mostly dressed for work. But the way Daphne sat there in front of him did nothing to make Roger think he couldn’t spare the time to join her.
--
Daphne finished off the last of her food and took a final sip from her mug before nodding. She did need to shower and at least attempt to get ready for work. His mention of offering to join her made her smirk at him from behind the cup before she set it down. "Well, I certainly wouldn't refuse the offer," she told him. She'd be foolish to do so. She wasn't sure there was a cell in her body that didn't want Roger's company. "You sure you've got the time?" She didn't want to make him late for work, but if he had moments to spare, she'd gladly take them up.
--
Getting up too move the now empty plates to the sink, Roger shook his head. “I literally have about two hours before I actually need to go to work,” he admitted. “I just don’t like being late,” which was true, but it was still quite unnecessary for him to get up at six am. Of course, now they’d had the opportunity to eat breakfast and shower, and shower. Roger was quite looking forward to a repeat shower even if there was no other point to it than Daphne. Frankly, Roger felt that was a pretty good reason for most things right now.
Walking over to Daphne, Roger pressed a hand against her bare thigh when she stood, leaning down to kiss her. “Go on then,” he told her before giving a light slap against Daphne’s arse. “I’ll go change out of my work clothes and then join you,” Roger added before offering another kiss.