Who: Marcus Flint and Stephen Cornfoot When: September 8th, evening. Where: Stephen's Flat What: Marcus comes over for a reading. Rating: PG-13 for some cursing? Open/Closed: Closed/Complete
Stephen expects the knock and so he opens the door wide well before Marcus’ knuckles ever reach the door. The taller wizard is startled but tries not to let it be seen so easily. He lowers his fist and scowls fierce. Years ago, Stephen might’ve been more frightened of such an expression clouded with anger but these days he finds the expression harmless.
“Are we reading leaves or cards?” he asks pleasantly, standing aside to let Marcus stalk in.
“What’s more accurate?” comes the gruff reply.
“Leaves, for you. Always have been. Well, mostly… we can do both to be sure, of course,” the tea has already been brewed and Stephen sits at his kitchen table across from where Marcus sits. Neither say anything as Marcus pours his own cup, neither say anything for the good five minutes it takes Marcus to calm down enough to formulate any words.
“I fucked up,” he says, finally, empty cup placed before Stephen.
Stephen’s eyebrows arch and he takes the cup to inspect the patterns in the leaves. Marcus is quiet again as if he wants his friend to read the problem so he doesn’t have to admit much more. Unfortunately, Stephen refuses to say anything until more information is given to him. It’s always been this way between the two. Marcus can remember the first study sessions the young Ravenclaw forced him through.
No one had ever been so stubborn with Marcus Flint before Stephen Cornfoot and to this day he’s still one of the only blokes that refuses to take Marcus’ attitude, which is probably why they remain friends at all.
Marcus groans, runs a hand over his face.
“I may have gotten a witch pregnant.”
“Well, that explains…”
“Explains what? What do you see?!”
“Sweet Rowena, calm down or I won’t tell you anything!”
“I just-“
“Calm!”
“But I nee-“
“DOWN.”
A huff, a sigh, the chair Marcus sits on scrapes across the floor as he settles back and stretches his legs. He really is trying not to flip the fuck out and when Stephen is satisfied with him he speaks again.
“It explains the images of plows...“
“Plows?”
“Yeah. Means distress, worry, anger but I also see something else and this is more prominent.” “What?”
“Joy.”
Marcus leans forward now and grabs the cup to have a look himself. Now, he’s never been good with reading leaves or cards or anything but he can see the plow mentioned and Stephen’s right. It’s obvious. Really, really obvious, but illogical in his opinion so he asks for the cards.
But the cards say the same thing. Say he’s worried, stressed, angry, but the future holds nothing but joy and good things.
“Maybe it means I’m not the father, that’d be something to be happy about,” muses Marcus and he doesn’t catch the flicker of disappointment that comes over Stephen’s face. If Stephen knows more he isn’t saying but Marcus is unaware that the younger man knows anything more than that, so he takes to interpreting things his own way and finds himself satisfied.
And the topic changes quick as Marcus sighs, “so, fucking.. blue chuck taylors?”