RP: Aftermath Who: Eleanor & Gaspard When: 4. July 2009, after this Where: Gaspard's flat What: Eleanor and Gaspard talk a bit after the twins and Charlotte left Warnings: None
What an evening. It had been a good evening, no doubt about that, with both the twins and Charlotte being great company, but it had also been overwhelming and, literally, life changing for most of the people there. There still wasn't any actual proof that Gaspard was the twins' father, but with the time he had spent in France with a woman who obviously was the twins' mother, not to mention the incredible likeness between Olivier and Gaspard, a positive test wouldn't surprise Eleanor.
After they had left, she had gone to the kitchen to set the dishes washing and returned to Gaspard, floating along a tray with two mugs of tea, two tumblers and a bottle of whiskey. Normally, she would have known what he wanted, but this was so far from anything she had ever gone through with him, that she hadn't a clue. So, she did the logical thing of brewing up some tea – if he wanted to sleep – and brought the whiskey, if he wanted a drink. Regardless, she was going to join him, to see how she could best help him through this.
Then she could figure out what she felt about this afterwards.
Gaspard had sat in the living room after seeing everyone out with El. She found him just... sort of... staring into the space in front of him. When she reached him with the drinks he seemed to come out of the fog a bit and looked to her with a grateful little smile. His Bushmills 21 Year was... Exactly what he needed right now, if he was honest. He'd kept himself to one glass of white wine during dinner so as not to get too far from his senses.
"You always know exactly what I need," he sighed out, reaching out for her hand. Bringing it to his mouth to kiss it lightly on the palm, he looked back up at her. "How are you doing, lovely?"
Oh, how she wished that was true. If she really knew exactly what he wanted, she would do that right now, and not keep wondering what she could say or do right now. Then she wouldn't be so worried about what this would do to him and keep pushing off thinking about what this might do to them as a couple. "I try," she said softly and met his eyes as he looked back up at her, and she let her hand brush over his cheek in a caress.
Since he hadn't reached for the tea, she poured each of them a drink of whiskey and handed it to him before she sat down with him. "I'm wondering how you're doing," she said, as that was the answer that came the closest to how she was feeling right now. "I'm…" she said, idly letting her fingers play with a curl of his hair. "Trying to think of how this will go, what needs to be done when, and how can I best be there for you?" Who to talk to, who not to talk to. When to tell Mr. Zabini to keep a lid on this until all of them would be ready for it to come out. Because it would come out. There were already speculations out there, but she didn't say that aloud. Instead, she let her fingers caress soothingly against his neck.
"I'm..." He was at a loss for words. "I'm thinking we drink of a couple of these and then go to bed and try not to think anymore about this today. Is that ok?" He didn't want her to think he wasn't thinking about it, but it was... overwhelming, in this moment. He look a long sip of his whiskey, grateful for the smooth slip down his throat and warming that came with it.
Leaning into him as they sat there, she took a sip of her whiskey, and instantly regretted it. It was always interesting to hear Gaspard talk about why he liked a specific whiskey and what to be aware of, and she liked the taste of it on his lips and tongue when he kissed her. She even liked the smell of it, which was why she had poured herself a glass, but now she had a small mouthful of alcohol that tasted like… well, a bog. Eleanor swallowed down and shook her head before she handed the glass to Gaspard. "No, still don't like it," she concluded and twined her fingers with his. "But I'm all for not thinking anymore today."
"It won't go to waste," he said, giving her a smile that didn't quite meet his eyes. His worry was obvious, he was sure, and he didn't want to worry her, but he didn't know how - it wasn't his style, for sure - to mask it.
"Let's put some music on," he said suddenly, and said a charm to set the radio - soft jazz suddenly surrounded him as if the stereo had known exactly what he needed, much like El always did. He closed his eyes and leaned back with a big, soft sigh. He spoke, saying out loud the one thought that wouldn't leave him in all of this, "I just can't believe she never told me," because there was no way Viola wouldn't have known the truth, right? And he had missed out on so much... Gaspard had never planned on being a parent, it just hadn't been something he'd really thought of, never having had long term relationships or much of a family either way. But now that there was the possibility - a very real one - that he had missed out on that chance... It bothered him. Hurt him in a way that surprised him.
"Didn't think so," Eleanor said softly. Gaspard would never intentionally worry her, she knew that, but right now she was looking at the man she loved, in a situation he had no idea how to handle, his life changing in ways he couldn't imagine, and his past suddenly looking different from how he had viewed it the past decades. Of course she was worried about him, and the last thing she wanted to do, was have him worry about her.
That desire to protect him, that need to help him get through this, was also what made her work so very hard to keep the flare of jealousy from being noticed. She didn't know if it worked, but hearing him speak of Viola, the twins' mother, just made her wonder. Wonder about what had been, about what could have been, about what Gaspard wanted to do now, if there was still any feelings that could be rekindled. And if there was? What did that mean?
Eleanor could practically feel her thoughts begin to spiral out of control and the tight feeling in her chest begin to appear. "She didn't tell the twins either," she said and looked down into her tea, hoping that Gaspard wouldn't see her face if he opened his eyes. "Maybe she had her reasons?"
"Yeah, having the wrong man's children seems a pretty good reason to keep quiet," he said, frustrated, before taking down the last of his glass and taking the first sip of hers. Really, this whiskey was meant to be savored, enjoyed, calming... And yet it was none of those things in this moment.
He didn't mean to take it out on her, and he looked up with an apology in his eyes for snapping at her. "Sorry this is just...," he sighed and shook his head again, his attention leaving her already. Closing his eyes once more, he took another long, slow drink of the whiskey.
Eleanor drew in a deep breath, refusing to take Gaspard's outburst personally. It was hard, though, because while it might not have been aimed at her, she had happened to be right in the trajectory of it. Besides, he might be right about why Mrs. Moreau had kept it from him. "Nobody's said you were the wrong man," she sighed and gave his hand a squeeze.
"Hey," she said to get his attention. "Maybe she didn't know. Maybe she… stuck her head in the sand and pretended everything was fine. Maybe it was her plan all along, or maybe it was something else entirely, but you have nothing to apologise for." There. This was easier to focus on that that nagging fear of how this would change things for them. G finding out he had children he didn't know about would be big, but him finding out he had children who were older than her? What if he decided she was too young for him? What if he decided he didn't need her? What if..? What if..? No, this wasn't about her. This was about Gaspard, and that was what had her clear her throat, because she wasn't sure how he could help him, but she was relatively sure that he would let her know if she did or said something wrong.
"Did you ever contact her again after… that time?"
He shook his head, "No," he hadn't been the best kind of guy in his youth, to women. He didn't want to burden Eleanor with details but he was sure she needed to know something so he took a deep breath, opened his eyes to her again, and began. "I was in Paris doing research, and I met a woman at a book store... She was looking for something by Scamander and so I knew she was a witch... At least, assumed she was educated as a witch. We struck up a conversation. After coffee and then a late dinner, I invited her to join me on a holiday out of the city. I didn't even know her last name by then, what she did, who she was... I was young and unmoored and planned on spending a few days in Champagne and why not have company? After a week and a half, I dropped her back off in Paris before taking a portkey to Belgium and continuing my research..." He had barely thought of her after their trip, if he was honest, he'd been so caught up in his work. Though that part probably wouldn't surprise Eleanor.
Eleanor hadn't really wanted to know about Gaspard's holiday with the twins' mother, even if it had all happened before she had been born – or maybe because it had happened before she had been born? She hadn't expected more than a simple yes or no answer, but she couldn't find it in herself to stop G when he had started talking. Knowing him like she did now, she knew that a week and a half away from his research was big for him, and to spend it with the same woman was extraordinary, just like she had had to be.
But, Gaspard hadn't contacted her afterwards, and considering his fame, it was unlikely that the woman hadn't known or hadn't been able to find out who he was, if she had really wanted to let him know. "She could have contacted you if she'd wanted to," she concluded quietly, and took a sip of her tea.
He nodded, "Yeah," he agreed, reluctantly. "And she could have told the twins." It occurred to him suddenly, "I'm surprised they're magic," he admitted. "I'm the only wizard in my whole line, funny how that works," he continued, allowing his thoughts to wander a little bit. He absent mindedly finished the second glass of whiskey and then looked to Eleanor. "How does sleep sound?" He charmed the music to stop and stood, taking her in his arms. "Are you okay, love? This must be a lot for you to take in, too..."
Gaspard's sudden admission took Eleanor a bit by surprise. She looked at him, the crinkle between her eyebrows putting her surprise on display. "You're both magic," she murmured, though she didn't want to get into a theoretic discussion about genetics, since she really didn't know much about that. So instead, she sat with him in quiet, hoping to calm her mind with each sip of her tea as he drank his whiskey.
She looked up to meet his gaze with a smile, before she nodded and let him pull her up into a hug. Right now, sleep sounded like a wonderful escape from everything and all the decisions that needed to be taken and all the changes that needed to be adjusted to. With a content purr, she rested her head on his shoulder, just for a moment, before they went to bed. His question, though, had her opening her eyes to look up at him. "It's a lot to take in," she agreed with him, though she really didn't want to get into how it could affect all of her dreams of the future, especially since she and Gaspard hadn't had that talk yet. She swallowed down before she nodded. "I'm okay, love," she assured him, then smiled at him. "Just very tired and curling up with you sounds amazing right now."
Gaspard hummed when she agreed that sleep sounded good, and he dipped his head and kissed her slowly. He hadn't gotten tired of kissing Eleanor, with her perfectly little mouth and soft lips, he'd never forget how surprised she'd seemed the first time. Remembering that still gave him butterflies, like some sopping 3rd year.
Stepping back from the kiss he stooped low for a second with a wicked grin and lifted her up into his arms, leaving the dishes from their drinks for them to worry about in the morning, and having scooped her up properly, carried her into his bedroom.