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Ludo Bagman ([info]mrpopular) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2012-04-08 22:37:00


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Entry tags:greta catchlove, ludo bagman

Who: Ludo & Greta
What: All kinds of fun!
When: Sunday Evening
Where: Ludo's Bachelor Pad
Status: Incomplete
Rating: Uhhh...let's go with PG for now? But let's be for real here. It's Lureta. Or Grudo. IDK. It's them.

Ludo was feeling quite pleased with himself. Despite what seemed like an almost unreal schedule, he'd managed a small amount of time with Greta that afternoon, though the majority of that time was spent in the bedroom. If anything could be said of Ludo Bagman, it was that he was a very thorough individual. He smirked to himself as he lay on the bed, a lazy arm wrapped around Greta. He pressed a gentle kiss to her temple before rolling himself up, deciding he needed to use the loo at that moment.

"Don't miss me while I'm gone, yeah?" he told her over his shoulder with a smirk before exiting the room, leaving Greta to her own devices for a bit of time.



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[info]catchthislove
2012-04-21 12:30 am UTC (link)
"I did learn that. Which, by the way, is damned inconvenient," she said in the same mild manner, subconsciously squaring her shoulders at him.

There was a strange undercurrent to him that Greta didn't like at all. Was he really this upset that she needed to write a letter? She hadn't been pawing through his things, for Hera's sake. Besides which, she cut Ludo a lot of slack, actually. He was the one who vanished into thin air without a word when that stupid gossip rag thought she was pregnant, and she hadn't made a fuss. Despite being just as busy as he was (the whole year 'round, she might add, not with this cushy spring break), she was always willing to adjust her schedule to suit his. Ludo had whims, and she went along with them. It hadn't bothered her before, mostly because she hadn't really thought they were… serious. But now that she suspected they might be, she also thought there was an imbalance of power in this relationship if her need for parchment was somehow being questioned.

Greta turned just her head toward him, flourishing the rolled paper between two fingers beneath his chin. In a saccharine-sweet voice, she asked, "Would you like to read it?"

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