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Bryony King

Awkward encounters of a third kind

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Bryony King

Set over Christmas break of Bryony's Seventh Year.

 

It had turned out that this week, had been the longest in her life. Or it so it seemed. Bryony had been simultaneously dreading coming home for the holidays, and not been able to wait for this moment. Or rather the butterflies in her stomach couldn’t while they thought of a certain mop of curly hair they adored so much. Damn those butterflies. 


She had spent the journey down hiding in a corner of the Prefect Compartment staring out the window, in quiet contemplation. She had been avoiding Lenny. Lenny thought this whole idea was terrible and kept chastising her, but then Bryony hadn’t been able to tell her the whole story. While she hadn’t exactly been sworn to secrecy by Spencer. However given it had taken so long to pull the information out of him, she assumed it was something he didn’t really want other people knowing. While trying to decide how to proceed she had asked Lenny for advice, but that hadn’t gone very well, and now she was stuck back at square one. It had already been awkward enough having to write a very vague letter to Jare saying she had a friend staying and not to be alarmed if he came across them in the house, just in case he caught Spencer and thought he had been trying to steal something. Spencer could look a little...haggard at the best of times, and now he had no work to go to she guessed he would probably just take it easy for now AKA not dress or shave. Although in her letter Bryony hadn’t mentioned it was a guy. Or that the guy was her ex boyfriend, now in a sort of limbo. Those facts were strictly on a need to know basis and if she didn’t know where they were at right now, Jare didn’t need to know either. 
 

As she thought it over, she wished maybe she could have spoken to Spencer a little bit more since she had basically forced him to leave behind the toxic situation at his family home, and move into one of the spare rooms at the King Townhouse while Bryony had been at school. But then, she hadn’t actually been able to talk to him at all. She had written a brief letter for Spencer and given it to Dunkle to leave for Spencer. It was blunt. Not very romantic. It just outlined that if his ‘fathers people’ were watching him like he said they shouldn’t communicate. They’d look in her house and if all of a sudden Owls were coming and going it wouldn’t bode well. She tried to keep it strictly business, but what he had said, had really worried her. And she couldn’t help but let that show in her letter for him in her phrasing “Don’t leave the house, it’s best for you” “Don’t do anything stupid, just look out for yourself please”. She did care, more than she let on anyway. She had even signed it with her signature “.Xo B” like she had done in all the letters in the early days of their relationship. It showed a flash of hope. 


This letter and his well being had been on her mind so much so that on exiting the train, she had gone into autopilot. And all of a sudden Henry was announcing that they were here, as the car pulled up to the house. She floated inside and Henry took her trunk in. But then he was gone. The heavy front door closed behind her. Now she was left standing in the hall, looking up at the grand staircase. As she ran her fingers though some of her dark hair she pouted, not liking how quiet it was. It was 4pm. Spencer couldn’t possibly still be in bed could he? She thought he;d be all happy to see her, ready to meet her at the door.

 

Obviously not. 
 

She swayed slightly in her heeled boots. She had put these on pretty early and now they were starting to hurt. Along with the heavy earrings pulling on her earlobes. And the very heavy but pretty looking false eyelashes sitting on top of her own. She wanted to take off all of this and get into her Pajamas and sit in bed, eating and watching Netflix. But this look had been carefully constructed to impress. Obviously. And she be damned if it would be wasted. She needed all this to be seen. 
 

Edited by Bryony King

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Spencer Bletchley

The first few days there, he’d slept, or tried to. Being in a foreign house without the comfort of familiar smells and pillows that didn’t need fluffing had resulted in entirely too much tossing and turning for his sanity, because being awake meant thinking about the move he’d just made, and how furious his dad was going to be if and when Spencer finally decided to show back up. It certainly didn’t help that he was also anticipating the return of his girlfriend? Ex-girlfriend? Hell, Spencer didn’t even know, and couldn’t have told anyone with any degree of confidence if he cared enough to actually confirm it either way.  


All he knew was that he was safe from the clutches of one monster, but inching towards an entirely different one by doing things like forgoing basic hygiene rituals, and wallowing in the guilt and shame that came with admitting to others, and himself that he had little to no control over his own life. Of course, doing things like not shaving and refusing to talk to people didn’t really help his mental state. As a matter of fact, his stoic silence and obsessive need to constantly go over the issue in his head only served to push him further into misery, resulting in Spencer only leaving his borrowed room when he could confirm with 100% certainty that there’d be no audience to his pathetic sipping at of tepid tea, and eating of burnt toast over the sink. 


The arrival of a letter from Bryony served to nip his pity party in the bud for the most part, as there was no room for it in the face of things like being greeted with kisses and a reaffirming of their commitment to each other, or a complete shattering of his esteem in the form of her telling him in no certain terms to get out and stay out of her life. Where that would leave him was not a place he wanted to think about, and so Spencer took steps. Steps that sent him wondering around the house in the hopes of conversation. At the very least it’d get back to Bry that he was making an effort, and at the very worst, he’d just be seen as a weirdo visitor. 


Turned out, it didn’t matter if he talked with her brother or helped Dunkle out with the laundry,, because they avoided direct contact with him, like he was some sort of oddity they needed to observe at a distance, that was fine by Spencer since it allowed him free reign of the house for the most part, and spared him the side ways looks he was sure to get for knowing how to cook for himself but not actually bothering until now. 


Incidentally, it was what he’d been up to at the very back of the house when Bryony arrived; slathering butter on perfectly browned toast while he piled his egg sandwich high with bacon and other things that were sure to make his tummy sing. And it did, because bacon, however, his enjoyment of the first proper meal he’d had in a week was summarily interrupted by him choking on it. 


The reason?


Bryony King was stood at the end of the corridor looking by turns fed up and like the best thing he’d ever seen. Not that he could tell her any of this because, you know, the choking….
 

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Bryony King

 

Bryony had been starting to give up on Spencer. Maybe he had actually left all together. Maybe his dad had caught him and dragged him back to Bristol. That was somewhat worrying and made her stomach stir. That was unpleasant she unpleasant thought was unnerving her and as she stood she bit her lip, trying to work out whether she should go looking for him or not. 


But then on the other hand, she had received a rather….robust letter from Jare. Not entirely happy his baby sister had her boyfriend...ex boyfriend? Now living in her house unsupervised without telling him hadn’t really made him happy. But after she had promised to explain everything in person he had started to lay off her. Just about. She would still probably have a heated dinner with him or something to that effect, but she could deal with that later. 

 

She was pulled out of her quandary of whether to go searching for him or not by the apparition that had just appeared at the end of the corridor leading down to the basement kitchen. And with that those damn butterflies messed her up again. Staring at him, a shy sort of smile crossed her face. It was not far from the sort of smile she shot him when they met each other once upon a time in the kitchen. As he lay on the floor staring up at her butt. Such romance.  She wanted to keep a colder sort of demeanour. She needed to distance herself as much as possible. More for protection, but those damn butterflies were making her goo-goo eyed. 

 

“Hi?” Her head tilted to the side as she took in the image of him. He was unkempt. He probably needed a shower. He was rocking more than a little stubble and definitely could have shaved, but then, she mused; that was sort of hot. 

 

She didn’t get to dwell on his chin rug for very long before she realised while she had been staring and daydreaming, he was beginning to choke. “Oh….” Once she had realised what was actually happening, the smile had wiped off her face, being replaced with a much more serious, concerned look. “OH!” Her eyes widened and she darted forward. Her tiny frame beginning to thump him on the back, rather than was probably necessary, the other hand tenderly placed on his chest. 

 

What a nice welcome back. 
 

Edited by Bryony King

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Spencer Bletchley

This was exactly the sort of scenario he would have laughed at if it were happening to someone else. But since it was currently happening to him, and making his eyes tear up, Spencer found it difficult to find the humor in the situation. What he didn’t find difficult, was the easy way he leaned into Bryony when she rushed over to stop his subsequent dying along her ridiculously priced runner, despite their almost years long estrangement from each other. Spence knew it was a longshot, them getting back on the path to making heart eyes at each other, but it was a shot he was willing and able to take with the use of any and everything at his disposal, up to and including eggs lodged in his throat.

 

The way he saw it, if she could be concerned about a bit of sandwich sodding off his world, then that meant she had the capacity to care about the rest of his life, right? She’d certainly done so in the past, and sure, she’d adopted this coldness about her that probably didn’t bode well for his myriad of screw ups now, but at least she hadn’t stood at the end of the corridor and watched him choke his life away either. Of course, that could have been due to her not wanting to clean up vomit and a literal dead body. Or it could have been because she did care and had been living her life on pins and needles in the exact same way he’d done since rushing back into her life.

 

Now was not the time to ask for clarification on the matter, since focusing on sucking in a breath was the priority just then. That and standing on his own two feet so he could greet her properly, which is what he did, his hands slow and sure as they smoothed along her waist to pull her into exactly the sort of hug that used to pink her cheeks up. He didn’t hold it for long as he was still unsure of exactly where he stood with her, but figured he could get away with just that little bit.

 

Spencer squeezed her one last time before putting a little space between them, just in case she wasn’t with the closeness.

 

“Sorry, I-well, I’d  planned on being dressed and shaved before you showed up.” He told her, scratching at his chin with his left hand, his right attempting to pat down the weirdly flat front of his hair. “But I got hungry, so figured I’d grab something quick before a shower and then this happened…”

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Bryony King

Bryony was glad that whatever he was choking on had eventually passed through and now he wasn't choking anymore. But then all of a sudden he was pulling her waist into a hug. That did make her cheeks go pink. She could feel it. As she silently cursed herself she avoided his eye, hopefully he wouldn't notice. But then again he probably would. Ugh. 

 

 

As she stepped back her eyes now locked on her small black kitten who went off bounding off up the stairs. After briefly wondering what had kept him busy for so long, she let her gaze drift back to Spencer who was now explaining why he was still looking a little rough. She wasn't really listening. She had liked the hug and now her mind had drifted off into a dreamland involved with that, and much more. Eventually she dragged herself back to nod slowly, agreeing with whatever her was saying. She had to forced herself to focus on him, narrowing her eyes just slightly.

 

The dream smile had faded away unfortunately. Now the more serious thoughts had intruded and she was pulled back down to earth. 

 

What a bummer. 

 

She realised she hadn't actually replied, she forced herself to nod again "No, that's fine" She was sort of in a daze as she fought with herself between what she wanted to do, and what she had to actually do. She paused looking away, but then unfortunately the devil on her shoulder won out. What an idiot. The dumb girl couldn't help the love heart eyes that crossed her face as she looked up to him 

 

"Take away and Netflix tonight?" 

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Spencer Bletchley

Spencer blinked, and then blinked some more because he was obviously hearing things and blinking all slow like seemed like the way to go. Mostly because what did one say when they suspected their ex-girlfriend of suggesting a bit of Netflix and chill? I mean, okay, she’d actually said takeaway ( total semantics.)  which meant greasy Chinese, fizzy drinks, one of them attempting to be authentic with the chopsticks before giving them up in favor of forks, and most importantly; the picking out of something ridiculous, like ‘A Christmas Prince’ which would play in the background, forgotten within five minutes of being turned on due to either her or him initiating the sort of snogging they both probably needed to steer clear of for a while.

 

 At least until they cleared up about a million and one misunderstandings regarding their relationship, his place in her life, and his penchant of hogging the orange chicken and spicy egg rolls. The question he should have been asking himself while he rifled through the drawer for the menus was if he wanted to put his foot in it and bring up something that was best for another day. Obviously, the answer to that was a resounding hell no, but now was as good a time as any, and if he was being honest, Spencer didn’t want to proceed with getting back into old habits unless they were both on the same page, and it was this that prompted his next words.

 

“Yeah, but are we okay?” he asked, finally unearthing several clipped menus which he then passed behind him, glad she’d followed him back down into the kitchen. “I’ll still eat lo-mein and watch Netflix with you even if we’re not.” He rushed to add. “I just, well, I’ve been wallowing in it all week and I dunno if you have too, but I figured we could say what’s what while the food is made before I hop in the shower…” He passed off the menus to her and kind of regretted it because that meant he didn't know what to do with his hands. x_x

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Bryony King

She followed him down into the kitchen to where she had randomly stuffed a load of take out menus in a drawer. She stayed quiet, following behind without making her presence totally felt. She wasn’t really sure how to feel. The butterflies raved on in her stomach, as always. Going gaga for his stupid face. And his stupid curls. And his stupid new but pretty hot beardy bits. 


Hmph. 

 

She remained in silence, watching him as he decided what he wanted. She was thinking but not thinking straight. She still wasn’t completely sure what she wanted. And she was just thinking of food. Although she wanted to snog him and get cuddles and get all touchy with his hair. She knew she couldn't. Things had shifted just slightly. And she wasn’t sure of her feelings now. She still felt betrayed and locked out, but she couldn’t help but want him still. Since learning the truth about his sick family she wanted to protect him. To keep her in her bed and hide away from the world. 

 

But she couldn’t let that happen just yet. She was overthinking all this when he now started asking the real questions. That had pulled her out of her daze for sure. She watched him for a moment before purposely dipping her eyes to the menu, trying to order her thoughts before she could come up with a decent answer, under the guise of selecting her food. But honestly? She couldn’t. Even though she wanted to, she couldn’t really give him a straight answer. 

 

Though she did afford him the privilege of actually looking at him this time, though her gaze was sort of lost. Almost sad. She brushed her hair back from her face “I….” she trailed off, searching for her words. “I don’t know to be honest. I don’t know where we’re at….yet anyway…” She wanted to give him some sort of hope at least. “I have too though...been wallowing I mean…” She brushed some of her hair for something to do with her hands, and dipped her gaze again, pretending she hadn’t decided what she wanted yet. 

 

She was happy to talk about her feelings. She was just never much good at actually talking about her feelings. "But we can talk..."

Edited by Bryony King

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Spencer Bletchley

To be honest he hadn’t expected her to agree to his terms, and now she had, Spencer found himself fiddling with the takeaway menus at a complete loss for what to say. Sorry seemed inadequate given the circumstances, as did several other phrases he could have offered that only would amount to empty words; a thing he did not need to get in the habit of delivering. So he said nothing while she ordered, making sure to interject his desire for spicy orange chicken and an order of spring rolls. 


With that done, all he needed to do was wait until she was off the phone which by his calculations only gave him a couple of minutes before he had to answer her declaration of not knowing where they stood with each other. It was only a second, but the call ended, shoving him into the spotlight of being the one to carry the conversation forward far quicker than he would have chosen to. 


“Right, I understand that.” He managed after several seconds of opening and closing his mouth like some fish out of water. A look he was sure didn’t really endear him to her regarding his capacity to adult or carry conversation. In his defense, when they’d had things to talk about in the past, she usually sodded that right off with a bit of eye lash batting, which he’d counter with a grin landing them both up snogging alley in the sort of PDA session that’d get them ticketed for indecent exposure. Something told Spencer leaning in and kissing her wouldn’t suddenly make the situation disappear though. 


“Um…I wanted to say thanks for letting her stay here, it’s…well, it’s been an eye opener but not really a fix for my home life.” He started, going into what he’d gotten up to the week she’d been gone including his rather depressing re-read of her letters and how he’d felt seeing them go from excited and hopeful to dejected and resigned. 


“They helped me understand a few things about me, like how I can’t run away from my house like some first year pissed at his sorting.” He told her, stepping forward to reach for her hands.  


“I came to this bit on my own though, and that’s you needing to understand that me going back there isn’t me not wanting to be with you or near you…”
 

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Bryony King

All Bryony could do when he accepted that awkward answer was nod. After excusing herself to go and make the call to the Chinese though, she was starting to feel worse. Now they were actually going to have discuss things. Things. Hmph. That made her anxious. She knew they needed to discuss things, but wasn’t sure she was totally ready to yet. She didn’t know what to actually discuss first. There was so many Elephants in the room. His familial history and how things were going to go now moving forward. Their relationship and how they now slotted together in all this mess. Or didn’t. She didn’t even know.  Looking to him now he was starting to talk. She really had to force herself to concentrate though. His stupid beardy face was a major distraction when all she wanted to do was sit on his lap snogging and getting cuddled. Maybe canoodled just slightly. But no, this was serious business. Even if all she wanted to do was get into  her PJs and chill with him, this talk needed to happen. She needed to keep the wall up, for now anyway. 

 

Once she had forced herself to actually listen to him her heart sank a little “I know it’s not really a fix. It’s a short term fix but…” She interjected, but trailed off quietly as he went on. It was clear he needed to get all of this out. It had been weighing on him for a week now. Although Bryony had been able to attempt to focus on classes and other people as a distraction in the last week, that wasn’t a luxury Spencer had. He had been here. Alone. With nothing but his thoughts and a couple of house elves that weren’t much help. 

 

As he went on her stomach all but turned to a pit of ice. He wanted to go back there. He was going to leave her and the safe place she had tried to create for him and go back to all sort of abuse in the Bletchley household. As he reached for her hands she didn’t really react. She couldn’t. Her mind was fixed elsewhere and instead she just let her hands sit limply in his. As she listened she bit on her lip, trying to stop herself blubbering. 

 

“I know you can’t run away from things, but no.” Her voice shook, no matter how hard she tried to control it.  She didn’t pull her hands away. She needed to stay connected someway. “No” She said simply, shaking her head. The head shaking continued defiantly. “I don’t care if you don’t want to be here with me. I’m not letting you go back there.” She had been unsuccessful on the blubbering front and now it had started. Ugly snot dripping crying. Wow. Attractive. 

 

“You’re not going back to that…..you’re just….no” She was still shaking her head. Now obviously pretty upset. Borderline hysterical. So much for being able to control her emotions. The more she thought about him going back to that, the worse she was. “I’m not allowing that...I’ll rent you a flat...whatever….I don’t care...I’m not letting you go back there...you’re not going back to that…” Her head was still shaking, more maniacally so now. She would be embarrassed about this later when she eventually calmed down. But right now she wasn’t thinking of that. She wasn’t thinking of anything straight. 
 

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Spencer Bletchley

The moment the words left his mouth, Spencer regretted them. Not because they’d been the wrong thing to say; on the contrary, the words and the sentiment behind them were exactly the sort of things she would have agreed with, because running away and pretending things didn’t exist were things 12-year-old blokes did, not adult wizards who wanted to be taken seriously. He regretted it because he could count on one hand how many times he’d sent Bryony into hysterics and this was one time too many.

 

For seconds they didn’t have, Spencer stood there and stared at her shaking head, wincing slightly when her nails cut into the skin of his own in her frenzy to make him understand exactly why he shouldn’t and couldn’t go back. What was sad was he got it, he understood why she’d be this vehement about his plans and actually agreed with her initial desire to deny him this particular move, but then logic booted that off to the side in favor of realism and what would happen if he kept running instead of confronting his problems.

 

Didn’t she realize that if he kept running that he’d be doing it forever instead of solving the issue? He thought she had, but that was clearly not the case. “Bry.” He tried, a little taken aback at her offer to put him up like some sort of boy toy, a suggestion that simultaneously warmed his heart and had his back up before she could finish the thought. Thankfully, her pending breakdown pushed that little bit of an offer to the back burner, giving him the courage to stop staring and start talking, because what she needed to hear was words. Truths and reassurances that would stop this mania.

 

“Hey, no…Bryony!” he cried, his hands coming up to grip her face and force her to look at him.

 

“Stop…just listen to me.” He demanded, brushing a few strands of hair from her face. “It’s not ideal, I know that, and I don’t want to go back, I need to go back.” He rushed on, shushing her when she started up again. “I need to sort it, otherwise it’ll keep going and this-“he motioned between them. “won’t ever be where we want it, which is less with the parental frackery and more with me getting to come over for Netflix and holding your goddamn hand without looking over my shoulder or dreading some other stupid thing being thrown in to mess us up!”

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Bryony King


She went on shaking her head for the next few minutes. Wordlessly, but inside she was still freaking out. After a minute of trying to listen to him, she just crumpled against his chest. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t bring herself to emerge from where she hid against his chest, just out of view, but snuggled in and feeling safer. She stayed there for a few minutes before the shame started to creep in. 

 

What an idiot she had been. 

 

She felt like a fool after her break down and now wanted to hide away from him for an entirely different reason. The heat in her cheeks was on par with how red they were. Eventually she slithered out of his arms and a couple of steps back. Although she couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She turned her head to the side and spoke quietly. “I’m going to get changed and stuff…” She excused herself, and slid out of the kitchen, still unable to look at him. 

 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

 

A little while later she eventually emerged from her room. She had changed into some of her favourite green silk button down pajamas. Simple. She had piled her long dark hair on top of her head, and her face now make up free. He had only seen her without make-up once. But she figured she couldn’t get worse than snot dripping as of earlier. Half of her was feeling self conscious as flack, but then the other side of her couldn’t really give a flack. The PJs were too big on her and swamped her. Her comfy socks poked out the end. She had gone beyond caring. 

 

Eventually she found Spencer in the living room. Chowing down of course. She didn’t even want to eat anymore. She just felt sick. But it didn’t stop her pouring a too-large glass of red. She settled herself at the opposite end of the couch from him, obviously deep in thought. Legs tucked under her, staring at the floor. 

 

“If you’re going to do it, you don’t go to their house..” She spoke eventually, quietly. A low rumble, filled with purpose. “We meet on our terms” Our. They were a team in this, whether he liked it or not. “We meet in Public. Or bring them here and show off….” She still looked at the floor, her mind working overtime. She was calculating every part of this plan going forward.

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Spencer Bletchley

It was probably super douche of him to be sat where he was, currently putting a massive dent in the orange chicken they were meant to be sharing, but in Spencer’s defense, she’d kind of left him stood in the middle of the kitchen with his mouth hanging open while she sped off to, well, he didn’t quite know where she’d sped off to and for what. To him, they’d been having a civil, way past due discussion on their relationship when she’d just wandered off with a mumbled apology and not much else.

 

I mean, okay, sure, she’d gone off to change, but why so suddenly and why in the midst of her crying and telling him no? He knew the situation wasn’t ideal. Hell, nobody knew the situation wasn’t ideal like he knew the situation wasn’t ideal. But he certainly hadn’t expected that sort of reaction, or the heart-stopping moment when she’d walked out of the room either. And truth be told, he’d kind of stood there gaping like a fish out of water after her, wondering where he’d gone wrong and waiting about for her to return and continue either not explaining why she was so against him facing things head-on, or some second thing he couldn’t’ think of.

 

She’d stayed gone so long in fact that the delivery driver had come and gone, leaving him sat looking silly in the face with several bags of Chinese and nobody to share it with. So it made total sense – at least to him, anyway-  that he’d set himself up in her living room, bring in plates and bowls and proceed to chow the frack down on it all, which incidentally was what he’d been doing when she decided that her timeframe for doing ‘stuff’ had gone a little beyond that. He didn’t mind so much, really, since he understood the idea behind needing space, though her needing space from the truth was one of the many things he’d slot in with all those other things that were best left unsaid.

 

Like how she was kind of tunnel vision-y when it came to him and her ideas for what worked and what didn’t. that and her strange habit of leaving a room feeling one way but entering it again feeling another; kind of like she was doing now with her glass of red and fuzzy socks. They’d been in each other’s pockets so long and so extensively that he knew what the socks meant, but not the look on her face.

 

For a moment, he thought it was her cool acceptance of his gross eating habits, but then she spoke and made herself crystal clear. So, she hadn’t blocked out what he was saying after all. Well, that was a relief, and to show his understanding and gratefulness to the fact, Spencer swallowed thickly, nearly getting a bit of chicken lodged in his throat before pulling a soda towards himself to wash it down.

 

“Right, yeah.” He managed, pounding his chest a little. “Public uh, that works actually, but uh…well, this won’t be as easy as you’re making it sound, love.” And it wouldn’t. She had to know that.  

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Bryony King

She had been too lost in her own thoughts to begin eating, or do much more than clutch her glass and stare at the floor as her brain whirred. But his lack of an enthused response made her sort of more determined.When she eventually spoke again she was quieter now, more careful with her words, like she had been calculating those too. “If you go over there for a peace truce they’ll take control again. I just know it…” Really she wasn’t sure at all, but she had ideas of what could happen, and they were good enough. She was able to keep her tone confident enough.

 

Eventually she looked at him, and it was more than a sideways glance. She looked at him with purpose. Her face now a calculating neutral. “We meet them in public” There she was lumping them together again. She knew he wouldn’t care. She was hardly going to let him go through this alone when she had been the one to force him out from that in the first place. Plus even if she wasn’t completely aware of it, or ready to admit it; she did love him. She couldn’t unlove him. She just wasn’t sure how to deal with that just yet. For now she took another sip from her glass and repeated herself going into full plotmaster mode. “We meet them in public and it’s neutral ground. It’s even footing. But it is safer. There’s other people around. Your dad can’t do shiz…” She paused, pursing her lips, looking down for a moment, then back to him “But we invite them here it gives me a chance to intimidate the hell out of them…” She added wistfully. That could be sort of fun. It would give her a chance to wear her new Balmain and what good was this big old impressive house her Grandmother and Grandfather had built up if she couldn’t use it to her advantage. "Which could be very interesting. I'd like to meet them while having the upper hand..." She added quietly. Albeit it wasn't really the ideal circumstances to meet future in-laws, it would be nice for her to be in control of the situation. 

 

She mulled over both options as she clutched her glass. She wasn’t hungry anymore. Well not physically. She was more power hungry. She needed to seize control of this situation before his Father got the upper hand. Hell would freeze over before she let him go back to that situation. It was better that she let that eat at her rather than the thoughts of the mess that had just transpired in the kitchen haunt her. Though he would start getting worried if she wasn’t eating. She paused, carefully setting her glass aside. She absentmindedly leant forward and picked at a chip, dipping it in curry sauce and being careful not to drip any on the couch. She pretended to concentrate on that while she spoke a truth quietly “Although obviously I’m here for you..” She put specific emphasis on that. “This is your family so we can proceed whatever way you think best..” That was not entirely the truth. Though she would let him decide, if it was the wrong decision in her eyes she would internally gripe and agonise over it. But she understood it was a decision he would have to come to alone. She would simply lay out options and give him tools to execute them as she saw fit.

Edited by Bryony King

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