gretchen scabior is the spice of life (mollisher) wrote in sixdegreesrpg, @ 2011-01-29 00:21:00 |
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Trevor pushed himself back and forth in his chair, head lolling back as he stared at the ceiling. Though Gretchen and every bloody member of his crew would most likely say, with absolute certainty, that he was brooding he staunchly refused to admit it. He wasn’t brooding, he was thinking, he would have insisted if anyone would have had the bolllocks to say something. Thinking and drinking. It was a task he was naturally suited for, or at least half suited to.
He was aware but didn’t respond when the house elf came in to tend the fire or when Hanley popped his head in to mutter he was done for the night and he certainly didn’t respond when he heard the footsteps moving in the hall and above him that signalled Gretchen was home. He did little more than sit, stare at the ceiling and fire and drink. Normally he knew what to expect from Gretchen whenever she was upset, not that he was a fan of the pattern. She’d get upset about something and then throw a little fit, stomp off, drink, and avoid him and the office. She’d manage to do as much work as she could without actually having to set foot in Knockturn. It frustrated him to no end that she always pulled the same stunt. Any one else in her position that pulled that would not still be in that position, he knew. Part of being his second in command and advisor meant that you had to be there whether you felt like it or not.
But this time wasn’t like the other times. She was still giving him the cold shoulder but she was there. She’d showed up, answered all his questions and listened when he spoke and responded, even if it had consisted of grunts, nods and monosyllabic responses. All his normal reasons for feeling she was being the ridiculous one were suddenly gone and he didn’t know what to grump about other than the fact she was upset with him and not listening to his side and not paying him attention like normal!
Pushing aside the nearly empty bottle, Trevor stood and swayed for a moment before he tried moving. He stood by his decision, sleeping with a Hitwizard wasn’t a choice he made without weighing the all the possible consequences and he wasn’t worried. He felt that no one else need be and even if they did, it was his decision. Stumbling on the first few steps, he left the study and the dying fire and climbed upstairs toward his room. He stopped in the middle of the hall between his room and Gretchen’s and swayed again as he pushed his braces off his shoulders and started unbuttoning his shirt, thinking to himself. It was harder when she was around like this, ignoring him to his face, than when she normally kept well clear of him until they made up. He missed her.
Trevor pulled off his shirt and turned, entering her room instead of his own. Trying to make as little noise as possible, he crossed the dark room, avoiding any obstacles out of memory. He tossed his boots aside and set his wand down on the bedside before climbing into bed and stretching out next to her, draping an arm over her before he completely passed out.