Backstory || January 21, 1980 Characters: Neal & Esther Jugson Setting: 01/21/1980. Jugson East London home. Early morning Summary: Neal & Esther are mending the wounds left by Esther's second miscarriage. Status: Incomplete
The morning sun had barely crept over the horizon. A dull blue light kissed with a line of gold filtered through the morning air and into the quieted home. Neal Jugson had never been a fan of quiet homes. In fact he'd have much rather prefered the shuffling of little feet along the cold stone floor eager to greet him. Or even the sound of vases being smashed by toy brooms. The silence that had greeted him the last few days he'd returned home was....unwelcoming and uncomfortable.
As the man removed his winter cloak he examined the blood stains on the cuff of his white shirt. The blood wasn't his. In fact it belonged to a dead man laying in Rosier Sr's parlor. He'd been pulled from his shift at St. Mungos some two hours prior in order to mend a man who'd been hit with a brutal flesh eating jinx. Unfortunately, Neal had been off his game recently and failed to save the bloke without a face. While the healer had felt terrible about his inability to do something for the suffering individual it wasn't what would keep him up during another attempt of sleep.
As he rolled up his sleeves he peeked in on his sleeping wife in their room. She was a poor...vulnerable creature these last few days. And though he was able to mask it when she were conscious it pained Neal to look at her recently. He couldn't quite explain why...but it wasn't difficult to find the reason. Choosing not to disturb her he made his way to the room across from theirs.
The room was sweet.... cute, even. Pastel colours and stuffed toys worthy of a playmate were neatly placed about the room. The nursery had been the place of many excited tones and eager to dos some weeks prior. Now, however, it was a constant reminder of what they'd lost. What they'd....wanted for so long and now... well... it wasn't here.
Neal peered into the empty crib a part of him imagining what their child would have looked like laying there. He or she would have their mother's gorgeous eyes and porcelain skin. Hopefully all they'd have of his would be his dark hair and be spared the traditional Jugson nose. The absence of such a creature, however, hurt.
Lowering his head Neal clenched his jaw and closed his eyes as he clasped the crib bars with his hands. Inhaling slowly his attention was suddenly brought to the sound of a creek in the wooden floorboard by the door. He absently remembered that fixing the floorboard had been on his list of things to do a week ago. Now it didn't seem so important. His brain finally acknowledged that Esther was approaching him. She was someone he had hoped wouldn't have caught him here...in this state. Though his brain told him to smile at her....he couldn't. But he did manage a mumbled, "Hello my love."