Who: Stephen Hart and Abby Maitland What: Awkward conversation and arena watching. Oh, and more awkward conversation. Where: Common room of their house When: May 31st, during the Arena Rating: PG-13, let's call it
Stephen still wasn't used to this place, would never be used to this place, but he did find himself a big fan of the not being dead anymore. It was nice to have a second chance, even if that second chance was coming in a strange place such as this. Besides, he had Abby. As long as he had her, it didn't matter what anything else in this place was or did or anything of the sort.
Not that he had Abby in the way he wanted her -- and those feelings had only come back up to the surface after previous month's damn Arena. And then he and Abby had spent much of this month avoiding each other as much as one could when one lived in a house together and one's rooms were right next to each other.
But at least she was there.
He came out of the kitchen and settled into a spot on the sofa, knowing the Arena was on and wanting to watch despite how much he disagreed with the entire principle of them. He heard soft footsteps approaching. "Hello, Abby," he greeted over his shoulder -- her footsteps hadn't changed that much, just gotten quieter, and of course he'd be able to recognize them. Poor tracker he'd be if he couldn't.