Malcolm Tucker (fuckitybye) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2013-03-31 19:02:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed |
Who? Malc & Grey
Where? The cottage
When? Sunday, sometime.
What? Easter, comfort, talking.
Status? Incomplete, closed.
Rating? Probably high for language at least.
Things were getting seriously out of hand, and Malcolm didn't know how he could rewind and make it okay again. He couldn't. Everything was getting far too heated, when he knew that all Grey wanted was for Mitchell to stop being a dick and respect their privacy. And now everyone was in on it- why couldn't he just have admitted defeat and apologised and said he would stop? Well- Malcolm knew well enough why, and normally he really wouldn't have given a fuck- he'd told Mitchell to keep the fuck away from him in no uncertain terms, and whatever people wanted to call him for it- whatever. But then there was Grey- less used to unprovoked attacks, being made to feel small and insignificant because of her gender. And jesus, people were really fucking going for it. He'd expected more of Alex, but he couldn't remember why.
But as soon as Grey had sent her last message- that she really hated the place- he'd made a dash for home. He needed to do something to calm and distract her, but he didn't know what. He knew that it wasn't the time to whip his cock out for her, which should have been a big clue as to how bad things were. No time to worry too much about it, just be there.
So, he headed back to the cottage, kicking fucking Easter eggs out of his way as he went. As soon as he found her, he practically landed on top of her, arms wrapping around her and pulling her into a protective hug whether she wanted one or not. "Hey, come here," he murmured, holding onto her, one hand stroking affectionately at her back. He placed a kiss to the top of her head. "You're okay, darling. It's okay."