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◎ c h a r l i e ([info]spinnets) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2011-09-20 11:50:00


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Entry tags:charles spinnet, penelope fawcett

Penelope
While the rest of his team was still riding high on the win against the United, Charlie had found it difficult to be satisfied. They had hit him hard, and he'd let up more goals than he had in weeks and it felt like the rush of being captain and performing well had deflated completely. It didn't help that his hand still ached when the weather turned, but Axe had done his best to fix him up before the match (along with a lot of scolding in French). While getting mended Charlie had not been able to hold back all that had transpired with Fawcett in the corridor, which meant revealing that he'd been seeing Penelope, which meant that he was probably going to be put on the strictest schedules known to man to keep his mind focused on the game.

It also meant that he earned a few smacks to the back of his head, but that wasn't out of the ordinary from Le Capitaine.

He'd managed to escape his tyrant of a captain and his personal trainer today, however, because of some contract negotiations and other boring parchment work that needed to get done. Instead of going to the pitch for his workouts, Charlie found himself drawn to the park where he and Penelope had spent so much time. He felt like such a bleedin' sap for it, but it really was the best outdoor area to run, and he must've lapped it four times before he decided to call it quits. Some part of him thought that maybe coming back there would have her magically appear, but Penelope was avoiding him, of course she wouldn't go to a place they had hung out before. It was stupid of him, really.

Across the street from the exit of the park he took was a muggle bookstore, and Charlie remembered how his niece had been going on about how he had no bedtime stories for when she slept over. She was just as demanding as his sister, honestly, and it was just better to comply with Alicia's demands than not, so he started towards the store front.



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[info]perfectblack
2011-09-21 03:22 am UTC (link)
Fate really was bound and determined to show her what an idiot she was. Of course the first game she missed of either wizard was their first inter-league match, if indeed that was where they had talked. Or worse. She flushed, thinking of the choice comments Drystan might make about her, Charles, or them together. In that moment, she felt angrier with her brother than ever before. Fine, she deserved everything he said about her, maybe more, but Charles was a good person. If he laid a finger on him, Penelope knew it would be a long while before she could forgive her brother. Hearing he'd had words with Drystan, though… that hot feeling of shame that had become second nature to her was accompanied by something else, still warm, but softer. She supposed she hadn't realized he cared enough. It was humbling, and yet another check in the column of things that told her this was the right thing to do.

"It was never a game," she said softly, steeling herself to look him in the eye. "I swear it."

Bringing her arms tighter around herself, Penelope blew out a breath slowly and dropped her gaze, staring off into the distance where the park lay. "But it can't be more. I'm selfish and I've managed to do nothing but hurt people I care about, Charlie." She breached the lack of contact by reaching out a hand to cup his cheek lightly before starting to draw away. "I couldn't bear it if I did it more than I already have to you."

She let out a hollow laugh and gave him a look full of self-derision. "Do you see? The selfishness just doesn't let up."

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[info]spinnets
2011-09-23 10:57 pm UTC (link)
She wasn't giving him the feeling that she wanted to be convinced. When he fought with his sister, or his ex-girlfriends, or whoever, Charlie could tell when it was time to stop because the argument was pointless. He never had very good things to debate with, and now that he had given Penelope all his honesty and she still wasn't budging---Charlie didn't feel like he was giving up, and maybe that's what was telling him that he was doing the right thing.

"All I want from this," he waved between the two of them, "is for you to be happy. When you're happy, I'm happy, and---until you're happy with...yourself, then..."

Wow, this really sucked. Charlie rolled his eyes up to the sky to try and be smart about it, make it sound like this was fine and it was supposed to be like this. Penny wasn't in a good place, and he knew that now. He didn't understand it, but he knew it and if she wanted his help then he'd give it, but for now she didn't seem to be able to take it.

"Then you need to figure it out," he said, a lot softer than before, hoping his voice hid his sadness, "You---know where I live, you know how to contact me and I'll...be there. For you." That made him feel better, making sure that she knew she could still rely on him. Charlie wanted to move to kiss her goodbye, even if it was just on the forehead, but he stopped himself. It didn't need to seem anymore bittersweet than it was.

"Hopefully I'll see you around then."

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[info]perfectblack
2011-09-24 01:02 am UTC (link)
She wanted to say thank you. She wanted to yell at him for not fighting more. She wanted to yell at him for fighting at all. She wanted to touch him, just once more She wanted five thousand feet and more between them.

So she did nothing, like she always did. Instead, she stood there and hugged herself as though it were the only thing keeping her securely together. When Penelope knew it was the end, she thought she might have nodded, perhaps mouthed I'm sorry or thank you, or both, and walked past. Not ran, not turned 'round, but made her way steadily, if slowly, down her previously intended path which suddenly seemed to nauseate and overwhelm her. She did not cry. She would not cry.

Hurt battled disgust. Temper, tears. Tiredness overcame her suddenly, the sort that made her wish to go home, whatever it was called now, crawl into a bed, and sleep for a hundred years.

Even if it was all one's own doing, so much loss was hard to bear.

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