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bess d. fawcett ([info]bestzeller) wrote in [info]valesco,
@ 2012-09-29 07:58:00


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Entry tags:bess fawcett, drystan fawcett

Drystan!
She wasn't sure how particularly long she could hide out in the kitchen without her disappearance becoming noticeable. The food had been a hit, the drinks were poured, but Bess had no desire to be out in the dining room or living room with her guests. The ball of nerves in her stomach had finally gotten the best of her, and for someone who'd dealt with death eaters invading her home, Bess decided that inviting her sister-in-law's boyfriend to dinner had been almost as big of a disaster.

Her fingers felt like they weren't hers as she moved about, getting plates together for dessert. Bess had been so bloody proud of herself for this idea and now she felt ready to get sick. In her mind, forcing Drystan and Penny and her boyfriend (she couldn't even say his name, she was getting anxiety) had seemed like the only way to get out of this ridiculous limbo the family was in. Penny seemed to be doing so well with everything, and Bess hated having to separate their lives and tiptoe and avoid.

Why was she so stubborn? Why did she get these ideas and not feel satisfied until they were seen through?

"Shit!" she let out quietly. Her knife had slipped while slicing strawberries and now her finger was covered in a mixture of juice and blood. Bess cursed to herself as she made her way to the sink. Maybe she could feign falling ill at the sight of blood and send every body home.



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[info]brythonichero
2012-09-30 07:13 pm UTC (link)
Drystan had been standing in the doorway to the kitchen with a pile of dishes hovering behind him. He hadn't realised this was where Bess had run off to, but he stayed there, studying her rather coolly despite the unbelievable anger that was prickling just beneath the surface. He didn't think he'd said a word since opening the door and finding his sister and Charlie Spinnet on the stoop. He'd been feeling almost amiable at that point, frankly relieved that he didn't have to (refuse to) play your-wife-said-this, your-husband-said-that with Noah and Odette anymore, but when he opened the door, thinking Matt had arrived, the cautiously good mood fell like a stone. Penelope was clearly uncomfortable, though she gave him one stern glance in warning, and then led her boyfriend, if that's what they were finally calling it, into the house. His house. Watching the other player's retreating back gave his right hand a violent sort of itching, the likes of which he'd never experienced before. Drystan's temper grew even blacker as it became clear that, whether through the few good sensibilities he possessed or at the behest of his sister, Spinnet appeared to be keeping his own counsel absurdly well.

He kept silent through dinner, which left Matt at the mercy of Odette, who was reigned in occasionally by her husband. Instead, Drystan spent much of the time staring daggers at the tabletop and using his knife with excessive force and flair throughout the course of the meal he could barely taste. Hampered by the amount of people present and his positive disgust of airing dirty laundry in public, he didn't so much as glance at the other side of the table. After what seemed like an eternity, although it probably took the average amount of time, dinner finished, and people began to trickle from the dining room to the living room, in anticipation of drinks, desserts, and if you were not one of a handful of people, a dash of revelry. Drystan, instead, used the last remaining dishes as an excuse to stay away from everyone and not cause a scene. He had to admit, as the evening wore on, that it was less about not wanting to air his dirty laundry and more about not wanting to add to Penelope's share of public grief. Damn if that didn't give him a prickle of resentment, even so.

Once in the kitchen, Bess's uttered curse caught his attention and he stepped forward to see what had happened. The red-covered knife had him hastening towards her, but he relaxed when he saw the fruit she was cutting and the fact that her finger was still attached to her hand. Flinging the dishes into the sink, he reached in front of her and turned off the faucet, then reached for her wrist. Summoning one of the Dittany-ladened bandages from the first aid box, he briskly began to wrap it for her, never saying a word.

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[info]bestzeller
2012-09-30 10:38 pm UTC (link)
Bess was quite sure she'd never found herself in a fight where she didn't think she would win. Drystan had scared the daylights out of her as he swooped into the kitchen and took hold of her, playing healer. Bess watched his hands move in silence, feeling quite like a child whose hand had been caught stealing some extra desserts. Once again the feeling of being sick overcame her.

She'd never make it through the rest of the night like this, however. Everyone had been rather pleasant save for the obvious tension. Penny's boyfriend---Charlie had been quiet and polite; mortified, but polite. It would have been like any boyfriend's first visit to his girlfriend's family home, really. Awkward. Strained laughs, teasing. It could have worked. It should have, if they were a normal family. But, really, who was she kidding?

Bess huffed, looking away.

"I should have told you and I'm sorry for that," she said quickly, neck twisting as if an owl, trying completely get him out of her vision. Bess felt herself start to heat up. Oh, she hated being embarrassed, and she squirmed uncomfortably. "I thought this was the only way to start building bridges again and it really hasn't gone terribly, but I won't bother trying anymore if you don't want me to and---" Her shoulders straightened, though she didn't know what good it would do when she couldn't look her own husband in the eye.

"She seems happy and I'm happy for her," Bess said, unsure if it was in her defense or a slight poke at her husband. Penny did seem to have a glow about her. She continued to stare at his reflection through the glass of the cabinet. "But I'm sorry nonetheless."

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[info]brythonichero
2012-10-02 04:40 pm UTC (link)
Satisfied with the bandage, he dropped her wrist unceremoniously and flicked on the tap to wash his hands. Drystan felt like gnashing his teeth, but he wasn't quite that uncivilized, so he clenched his jaw instead. He hadn't even expected an apology, so by that score, this interaction was going much better than he would have anticipated. If one overlooked the fact that she then followed the rather stilted and entirely too defensive apology by throwing down a gauntlet.

Of course he was happy that his sister was doing well; it was an insult to even begin to imply that he wasn't. Penelope was pursuing a good living doing something she'd always loved, and he was proud of her for humbling herself enough to ask for second chances, for forcing herself to revisit a year full of nothing but bad memories and poor decisions. But he didn't think Spinnet had anything to do with those successes, and he might even be of the opinion that Spinnet was holding her back in some small way, not to mention the obvious fact that he wasn't good enough for her. Then to be backed into a corner because Bess wanted to meddle since the situation wasn't going to her taste? He knew she would have counted on his discretion and need for privacy to not make a scene when the two of them arrived, and that just infuriated him. He'd been played by someone he was supposed to be able to trust and that felt like a betrayal. With the way she defended her motivations so readily, it struck him as being a little selfish too.

Drystan gave her reflection a long, hard look as he dried his hands on the dishcloth and hung it back. "Fine."

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