cris • tee • nuh (

cristina_lacosa) wrote,
@ 2011-12-30 21:55:00

Merry Christmas Emma!

caradoc & emmeline

Are you----"

Caradoc stood at her doorstep, trying to not look like he had just sprinted down a flight of stairs, raced out of Mungo's front door, apparated in the middle of the street to Bristol, and jumped up three steps in front of Emmeline's flat all to bang furiously on her door. Because he had, and right then, he didn't exactly want her to think that he had been, and still was, worried about--- her. Because he wasn't. But now that he saw her, standing with both her hands on her hips, it was obvious she wasn't sick with any illness.

But--- wait. This wasn't right. Caradoc simply stared at her for a few moments, trying to let his brain put all the floating information together. Gibbon had told him in the hospital that Emmeline was already sick-- well, he hadn't actually told him specifically, Caradoc had overheard Tobias talking about it to another Healer that she had definitely 'got it'. And every time he had tried to get a hold of her from the hospital (damn stupid people), Emmeline's fireplace had been busy, which only fueled everything that going through his head because who's fireplace wasn't busy unless something bad was happening these days? It had forced him to actully believe Gibbon, and the rest was history.

His eyes trailed away from her face for a few moments, and he felt his stomach give another jerk. Alright. Leave. Leave leave leave. But Caradoc couldn't, and he didn't want to. What he really wanted to do, and he really shouldn't, it wasn't--- she probably would stop him anway, but--- "Oh, fuck it," Caradoc promptly stated, then didn't wait another second to move his both hands to roughly clutch both sides of her face and push his lips forcefully on her's. Minor details later, much later.

This man was absolutely fucking insane.

That was the last and only thought running through Emmeline's head before he kissed her---holy shit, Caradoc Dearborn was---kissing her, grabbing her, snogging her and her hands clutched to the front of his shirt because there was nothing else she could, nothing else she wanted to do. Ohh, she had been so bloody mad at him only a few days prior but the anger she'd felt had upset her like no other; it wasn't right to get so---well, crazy over a single comment, but. He--her hands gripped at his shoulders then pressed against his neck before going to the back of his head and pulling him closer because---just---she needed to touch him.

Thud.

ralph & miranda

You are," she started, voice cracking already, but she would say this. Miranda cupped his face in her hands, making sure that he was paying attention (because this was serious business), "You are stuck with me, Ralph Merridew, you are stuck with me no matter--no matter what. Is that clear?"

Suddenly, it dawned on Ralph how serious this was--- Miranda was. Not that he hadn't known before, because obviously when your ex-girlfriend (current girlfriend? It was beyond complicated at this point) came to you in the middle of the night after nearly breaking your neck in a Quidditch match, ready to ball her eyes out with that face that she had on and practically laying with him on the bed, it was--- serious. Very serious. And blame his stupidity, or the fact that his head still was throbbing to catch up, but yes. He got it, now.

As Miranda shifted, Ralph moved to get at least one arm around her waist. He felt his stomach give a--- a, something like a burst as she brought her hands to his face, and from then on he couldn't stop looking at her. This--- this--- this was Miranda, how could he have been so stupid to think that--- that not being with her would be okay? He needed her. He needed her to be around him, and to make him laugh, and keep him in line and be his girlfriend because there was no one else, it was only her. With her every touch, Ralph felt his skin jump and itch like it always did, and a chill went up his spine as she grabbed onto his face. Miranda was it, she was--- the one, because no one had even come close to make him feel like this before; it was impossible to love someone as much as he felt about her right then.

Ralph began to nod his head at her, almost numbly. Yes, yes--- yes. A small smile crept onto his face as he leaned in to her a bit. "What would I do without you?" he asked tenderly, just above a whisper. "You're---- Miranda Daisy Dodderidge. I can't live without you."

sebastian & mackenzie

God, he should not be glad that his wife was hurting, but maybe she finally understood. Sebastian wasn't a whiner for no reason, he didn't bitch and moan to cause a scene. He let so much slide by because he would rather be relaxed and calm, he didn't like starting trouble, getting into trouble. Sebastian spoke when he knew it was necessary, when he felt like he could make a difference, so--maybe.

"I want to come home," Sebastian let out lowly, feeling like a child ready to cry to his mother. Defenseless! He was a complete wreck of a human being at the moment, and his slumped posture gave the impression that he'd been defeated. Defeated by life, it felt like.

The other healers entered the room at this point, carrying vials of potions and jars of substances that Sebastian didn't like the look of. His eyes widened and he reached out for Mackenzie, praying that she'd hold onto him during whatever the healers were planning to do.

That simple confirmation was all she needed. Despite everything, Mackenzie rushed forward, not stopping until her arms were completely wrapped around his neck and she had buried her face into him. Sebastian's familiar scent overwhelmed her, and the tears she had been holding back for so long finally came pouring out. She shook as she held onto him tightly, feeling just fine with the fact that she could never let go and be happy the rest of her life.

Mackenzie began to nod furiously through her tears. "I want-- I want you to come home too!" she sobbed. "Please come home! I don't--- I can't--- I can't live without you!" Her fingers moved to wrap themselves into his hair as she cried harder, completely unable to stop now. She didn't care if he wasn't ready for them to go back to normal, or if he still wanted to talk about it (so much had happened in the past week, she wouldn't even know where to begin), no, she didn't care about any of that, because whatever he wanted, she would do it. No questions asked, no arguing no... nothing. This was all her fault and she was going to fix it.

noah & odette

How was his mind managing to keep him so neutral while the rest of his body, and Odette, were having total meltdowns?

Noah blinked again and kept his arms tightly around her. A report? Oy, had it leaked already? He flushed, wondering if he was the last person in the wizarding world to find out that they were having a baby. But--that wasn't the most important thing right now. Right now all that mattered was the two of them.

The three of them.

Four, with Terry. How the hell had they managed, under a year, to become a family of four? Noah let out a breath and leaned into her arm. "It's going to be okay, I---second? Well...you could be back on the field next season, right? He'll---she'll...the baby can just come to work with me and Terry, and..."

Noah sighed, his hand rubbing her back in a comforting manner, "I know...you didn't want to have kids, and I respect that, so...I promise to make this as stress free as possible, Odette, I--" Noah never thought, in his life, that he'd feel the need for some sweeping romantic gesture, but here he was. "I'm yours, I'll--I'm going to do anything and everything for you and the baby, I promise you."

Her body and hands unclenched as Odette immediately quieted after Noah's words. Still sniffling, she looked at him for a very long time, letting her brain catch up to her thoughts. That was probably one of the most thoughtful and caring, not to mention very open (especially for them) things that anyone had said to her in a long time. And if she wasn't in the state she was in now, Odette probably would have laughed at Noah for saying it, but she wasn't. In fact, it made her heart fill lighter and her head feel less muddled.

A feeble smile appeared on her lips as she leaned to curl into his chest. For a few seconds, she simply breathed, brushing away the last of her tears. "I didn't--- tell anyone because I wanted to tell you first." Odette paused as she reached to play with the button on his shirt. "No one knows yet, and-- the team is upset, but--" it would be lying to say that she didn't care, but right now she suddenly realized how important Noah was. How important Noah, and Terry, this baby... her family should matter more to her than quidditch, so it would. Of course, she had understood that before, but now she really understood it.

will & rhys

How's your aim, Nott?" Will said with a challenging grin, though he motioned for his friend to move a bit to the side; the spell was going to bounce off of Will's protego shield, and he reckoned that Rhys wouldn't want a face full of boils--even though it would be hilarious. He patted his shoulder, looking at Bole and his slack jaw with a wicked grin, going into his dueling stance once again.

Rhys tossed Bole's wand across the room with a smirk, and smiled even wider once the man caught it perfectly. Oh, this was going to be fun. Adrenaline suddenly rushed through his body all the way down to his toes. Or perhaps it was just a simple surge of power, but either way, he definitely liked the way it felt. He could make this man do anything--- anything-- with a simple flick of his wrist. Anything he wanted; do a dance, jump off the table, kill himself....was there anything disconcerting about that? No, Rhys didn't think so. He found it beyond thrilling.

"We'll see, you need the practice, yes?" he replied, watching as the other man slowly mimicked Will to stand in a duel stance also. Rhys had never really fancied himself as a good dueler, per say, but that shouldn't translate too much into Bole; he could do anything now. Well, anything that he thought up of.

Taking a hint, Rhys looked around for a proper place to stand to get out of the way. The room was rather small, with the table being the main center piece, leaving just enough space for Bole and Will, but that was about it. As Bole seemingly prepared himself (by staying frozen in his position), Rhys heaved himself on top of the table to sit cross-legged and out of the way, for the most part. He was fairly sure he was capable of ducking if anything of that sort came toward him but would be unlikely.

Without a further word, Rhys jerked his wand again and Amadeus Bole came to life. "Furnuculus!" the other man yelled abruptly, a yellow jet of light speeding out of his wand.

Knowing what hex was coming helped a great deal, and Will wasted no time in deflecting the spell, sending it hurling into the bookcase and causing the texts to plummet from their shelves and onto Bole---or Bole's body, it was a bit odd to think that this was actually a man standing there, and not a puppet. Though, next time (if they could ever be so lucky to have a next time so similar to this) Will would gladly take the job of puppeteering, as simply being able to hex the man without having any sort of concern about a rampant, surprise spell was intoxicatingly enjoyable.

"Mr. Bole!" Will shouted in his best 'auror voice', though he was grinning almost madly "Put down your wand, you've been warned---hey--"

He deflected the spiraling red hex up into the ceiling (and just barely before it cut off a chunk of his leg) and glared hard at Rhys, who was obviously going to make this some sort of game. Not that Will hadn't been thinking of it like that, but---Rhys wasn't the one getting hexes and jinxes hurled at him. "Now, now that's just not nice."

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