j . chambers (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} huracan) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} valesco,@ 2016-06-26 00:14:00 |
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With his son asleep on his shoulder in one arm and a pack of Hestia Jones' favorite fizzy drink in the other, Joaquín stood, contemplating life. It had been a strange few weeks, one that was only getting stranger by the murmurings being heard throughout the Ministry about reform. He had thought that opening his home to Larkin Whitby was nothing of much concern, but it had affected...he had not anticipated.
Joaquín sighed and knocked, again, on her door. "Hestia! I know you're home."
Hestia Jones, ever since he had requested (politely) to have some time apart because of his visitor, seemed to be avoiding him like the plague. It had not been Joaquín's intention at all, Alexander was far past annoyed at him for it, and he hadn't thought...it was anything more than just that? Keeping what...should be kept away from this Larkin and Nico madness away. Not that Hestia knew...but he did not think he had alluded to her having done something wrong, or---well, it didn't matter, now, as he'd learned from a little unspeakable bird that perhaps he hadn't known the entire context...
He jiggled the case of bottles in his hand so that they clinked. Alex squirmed in his sleep and once again, Joaquín sighed. "My arm's growing tired, Hestia, you know how heavy this kid is."