kermit (kermit) wrote in vrrpg, @ 2017-04-14 12:05:00 |
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Entry tags: | char: draco malfoy, char: kermit bradley, location: victory road, time: 2009 04 |
RP: Chance encounters
Who: Draco Malfoy & Kermit Bradley
When: 10am Friday, 14th April 2009
Where: Rosa Lee Teabag (Teashop & Cafe)
What: Chance encounters
Warnings: TBA
Kermit's face was bare. For the first time in a long while, there were no rings of smudged, left over makeup about his eyes. He'd put his dresses away in his wardrobe and pulled his hair back into a too-curly ponytail. He hadn't even shaved for a day or two and there was stubble across his cheeks. He was wearing jeans with a green button up shirt and honestly, Kermit felt tired. He'd managed to singlehandedly ruin his own life without ever meaning to and even his playing had taken a hit. That had never happened to him in his life. Quidditch had been the one place he'd been able to leave his troubles off the pitch, but the thought of everything he'd lost had only followed him. He'd managed to sustain real injuries in a match for the first time since he'd been small. The bruise on his cheek was healed now, but he'd even managed to allow a bludger to collide with his fingers at the last match, breaking a knuckle that had to be healed on site before they'd let him leave.
Still, he was forcing himself out of the house again today, and he was not using his pets as the motivation. They'd settled down now, realised between the pair of them that Kermit needed them, that their dad was feeling absolutely worthless and curled up on the sofa with him most nights. He'd considered going to Sweet Nothings, thought that maybe the sweets there could tempt him into eating again, but then again, he didn't really think it was a good idea to relive the memories in the place he'd met Blaise, where he'd flirted quite outrageously and won himself a date with the man who'd known his name before he'd ever spoken it. He smiled faintly at the memory, but he had to leave it there or he'd start crying again.
Instead, he walked into Rosa Lee's, pushing the door open and queueing up. He'd get a pot of tea and he'd sit in the window and people watch and just try and get back into himself because the way he was going now wasn't working. He'd even brought a book to try and read it a little bit, though the charm he'd been working on lately to have the words read directly and discretely into his ears wasn't working yet. The whole point of this was to get out of the house. He looked at the cakes on offer and, even though his stomach turned at the thought, he picked one out. It had raspberries on and was probably the only thing that would tempt him to eat. He carried his pot of tea and cake over to the sofa seat by the window and sat in it. This was good for him. It was.