Adrian really hadn't want to come out that evening. His life in the last two week had been something out of a BBC drama and it just seemed to be getting worse with each passing day. The two beside him didn't even know the half of it and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to tell them. He felt like telling them would make it more real than it already was. His Mother was a wreck, in that silent way of hers. To realize you meant nothing at the same time you were starting a family ... well, it wasn't the best thing to realize in the wake of your husbands death.
Sliding into the spot to the left of Clint, he nodded his hello and promptly ordered a drink. If he was out, he might as well have fun. Of course, as he took the glass of whiskey, he was reminded of the last time they'd all been out. As much as he would have liked to end up back in Emma's kitchen, he supposed it wasn't a good habit to be setting while drunk. He had rather enjoyed his morning with her cook and he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to have the woman after him with one of those bloody spoons.
Marcus', however, was the odd one out in this particular trio. Ade and Clint were both having a rough time of it. He felt a little guilty for being on the top of the world, but it was a hard thing to contain. He tended to get that way when it came to Quidditch. "It's good," he grinned, taking his seat, "Even if you bastards are leaving me to deal with Bell on my own. She's bound to be a bloody nightmare now that she's assistant."
He honestly wasn't too worried, but if they thought he wasn't going to take the opportunity to harp about Bell they didn't know him at all.