Who: Fletcher & Zach What: Smoking and getting the fuck out. When: Saturday Where: The roof of St. Mungo's (WE MADE IT THIS WAY!) Warnings: TBD Status: Incomplete
Fletcher admittedly was exhausted, but no matter how much he tried, he couldn't sleep and he couldn't stop the unyielding stress reaction. Now that he was on the roof, outside, he made sure to find somewhere safe to lean. It was getting better, but it was still a pain to stand upright. Cigarette in hand, he closed his eyes. "Thank you, by the way." He'd really needed out. He was getting increasingly annoyed with his fellow Death Eaters. At least outside of Draco and T. He was aware they couldn't continue on as they had and he didn't have the foggiest idea of what they were now.
He knew there were things to ask, but he honestly couldn't put forth the effort to care much about this baby that had been born or whoever it was that Zach was here to see. He just wanted to continue on as if nothing really mattered by smoking. Fuck, he still had trouble breathing, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered, really.
After a moment, he let out a slight breath. "How have you been?" At least he could ask that and hopefully not have to listen to too much of his life story as of right now.