l o u i s (superbad) wrote in valesco,
@ 2009-06-30 17:35:00

Entry tags:

agatha timms-catchlove, fredrick catchlove

Fredrick dear
She was having a nightmare about mosquitoes eating her alive.

Agatha hadn't gone to bed in such a sour mood since...since Edgar Bones had dumped her that day after Herbology. Not only did she hate the bloody subject, but he'd nonchalantly said that it wasn't going to work, blah blah blah, and that was that. Agatha was sure she'd trampled over a few first years in her furious rampage to the dorms, and instead of crying herself to sleep, she transfigured a few firecrackers into cigarettes and hid them in Edgar's pocket the next day.

Hey, everyone's heard the quote about women scorned. You can't say he didn't have a warning.

But now, instead of plotting her revenge on Fredrick, Agatha had painfully dealt with all of his owls, locked up her journal in a trunk and silenced it so she wouldn't hear it shaking with his new comments, and promptly went to bed to forget it all. She was terrified by the fact that she hadn't had the urge to hurt or embarrass him in some fashion, but a small voice in the back of her ranting and raving mind told her that it was because she loved him. You don't send rampaging quaffles and exploding cigarettes to someone you love.

A giant mosquito hurled itself through the air and Agatha let out a yelp as she awoke; not only because of the nightmare, but because of the rapid pace banging on her door. Her still sleepy eyes read her clock as 5:34 in the morning, and she let out a rumble from the back of her throat as she started toward the door. If it wasn't Fredrick, she was going to kill whoever was outside the door.

Maybe even if it was Fredrick.

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fredricks
2009-07-26 05:57 am UTC (link)

Fredrick couldn't believe she'd kept up the cold shoulder all night.

No, really, he couldn't believe it. He was going out of his mind with worry. He'd never been a worry wart, and here he was pacing his apartment back and forth so often that his socks had not only turned grey from all the dust they were picking up, but had actually just begun wearing through at the soles of his feet.

They'd had fights before, sure. But like this? She'd never ignored him like this. She'd always threaten to whack him upside the head and storm off and come back five minutes later or sit next to him in stony silence. She'd never taken any of her stuff out of his apartment. And the place seemed bear without protest flyers sitting on his kitchen table and spare sweaters strewn about.

What if this was the end of...them? Us? Whatever you want to call it.

When his owl returned for the 20th time with an unopened envelope, Fredrick threw his pride out, put on a pair of shoes, and trudged towards her apartment in the rain.

An hour later (he had to walk past her door a few times before he worked up the courage), Fredrick knocked solemnly on her front door.

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superbad
2009-07-26 06:14 am UTC (link)

Agatha dropped down from her tiptoes as the peephole revealed that it was indeed Fredrick. She turned away for a second, trying to regain some of the anger from the fight earlier that night, but found that sleep had washed most of it away. If she tried hard enough, she was sure she could rile herself up again, but right now, she didn't feel like fighting so she opened the door.

"Do you know what time it is?" she said, voice scratchy with sleep. Just because she wasn't ready to rip his head off anymore, didn't mean she couldn't give him a rough time. Agatha patted down her hair and huffed, eyes blinking to get the sleep out. For the first time she noticed that he was bloody soaking wet, and she let out a short gasp.

"Oh--you idiot! It's pouring outside!" Agatha grabbed Fredrick's wrist to pull him into the flat, and then letting him go to go back and get her wand.

Honestly. She was mad at the fool, but he didn't have to go and catch pneumonia or something like that! Agatha returned with her wand and towels, shaking her head, "Take off your clothes!"

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fredricks
2009-07-26 06:25 am UTC (link)

Fredrick was initially very confused. Agatha had gone from very pissed off, to worried, to demanding that his clothes be taken off. He knew he should have been used to this by now--god knows he should have been used to it, but maybe it could've been chalked up to the numb and dumb founded feeling he'd been having since their argument.

He eyed the wand worriedly, and took a step back. "Uh, I think I'm okay, Aggie--Agatha."

This was weird. He wasn't sure what to say. Were they...you know, broken up? Or was she just angry at him? Or what was going on? Why wasn't his brain working fast enough, and why did his tongue feel like it was swelling up? He grasped for words, and ended up just shoving his hands into his soaking wet pockets.

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superbad
2009-07-26 06:39 am UTC (link)

"Wow, you must be delirious."

Agatha shook her head and muttered a quick drying spell, hoping that it didn't get too hot with him still in the clothes. If he was going to make it difficult, then fine, whatever, she would just fix him up like this. Agatha shook her head at how out of sorts Fredrick looked, ready to blame his stupidity for rushing out in the rain like this.

"What are you doing here?" she asked with a sigh, hoping to push him down into a seat to calm himself. Agatha figured she'd probably look like a drowned cat too if she'd just crossed London in this storm, and she maybe should have some pity on him.

Not much, of course, but. She was secretly glad that he'd found his way over here after all, instead sending another blasted owl.

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fredricks
2009-07-26 06:42 am UTC (link)

"I--I was worried," he mumbled. He felt the small box that had been sitting in his coat pocket for a bout a month now hit his thigh when he was pushed into the chair. This only seemed to make his nerves worse.

"No answered owls, you know, that sorta stuff." He gulped. He ruffled up his hair, getting a what was left of the water out. He fiddled with the cuffs of his sweater--it was weird being dry all of a sudden. "You can't be too careful now, you know? Right?"

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superbad
2009-07-26 06:52 am UTC (link)

She hadn't been expecting that at all, and while her initial reaction was to be insulted that he thought she couldn't take care of herself, Agatha felt her cheeks heat up greatly in a strange warmth. Worried? Fredrick had really thought something bad had happened? Or maybe he couldn't believe that she could be such a bitch about mosquitoes and something must have happened for her not to respond to him.

Her stomach twisted a bit guiltily and she pushed forward to pat down some of his hair, letting her fingers linger, "Well, I'm fine, as you can see."

Agatha did send him a smile, though, because really. Her boyfriend had just walked through a huge rainstorm to make sure she was alright. As much of a feminist as she was, that was very nice of him.

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