( chekhov's gun )

Writers parties were always a bore. Witch Weekly parties at least had a bit of excitement to them. Romilda just found these ‘networking’ events to be excruciatingly boring, and it didn’t help that there was a clear divide between the journalist writers and the novel writers, with only a few individuals actually  crossing into both styles. All the novelists were so pretentious. She’d gotten herself stuck in a group with a bunch of old people discussing whether or not Shakespeare had written all of his plays or if he’d taken credit for other people’s work. She had genuinely started to consider hexing herself just to get out of it when she’d finally finished her drink and excused herself to get a refill. She’d bloody need it. At the bar she caught eyes with someone who was definitely closer to her age, so she bit the bullet and struck up a conversation “I can’t be the only one concerned that someone in this room is going to cark it any second now. I was told this was going to be a party” Thank Merlin she hadn’t worn her original planned outfit, opting for a pale blue skirt and blazer set, looking a bit more business-y than normal. 

@rowleing​

He loved the praise that came with these parties. Every older writer, struggling and fighting to stay relevant, pretending to some sort of superiority Sebastian couldn’t see, tapping his shoulder and complimenting his narration at all times. It was likely that he was the youngest actual writer in the room, and those who didn’t glare, wanted to claim some of that freshness by association. He’d always pose as flattered, modest and incredulous to some of the most pompous compliments. But after a while, he did need his break, alone, how he ultimately was more at peace. 

Sebastian turned to see who was disrupting the moment -- no hard feelings for that -- and his eyes lingered as he tried to put a name on her pretty face. No result, but his voice was calm and understanding as he opened his mouth. “Would you rather be drunk, no longer able to walk well, and mumbling nonsense to these people whose noses are already so high they’re glued to the ceiling? Or did you think you were going to take shots with Rita Skeeter and Greta Catchlove? Boredom is the best alternative, unless... of course, you’re lucky to have found me.”

She pressed her lips together and lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Well, if I were to say anything, it would incriminate me.” Georgina leaned in close and whispered in his ear. “I choose to be miraculously mysterious.” Initially, Sebastian and Georgina were two disparate people. While Sebastian looked at the world with he glimmer of amazement in his eyes, possibly falling in love every five seconds, seeing the virtue that the world presented and then wrote it down on paper, Georgina refused to put on her rose coloured glasses. She watched as people lied, deceived, lost and crumbled with as little as the right arrangement of words. Sure, her parents taught her enough to know that people were weak and a creature such as in one of Bas’ books, simply didn’t exist. Alas she read the books, but did not mix them up with the reality. 

Georgina placed her hand on her chest. “Aren’t you the sweetest.” He knew all the right things to say, and it wasn’t that she believed him, she admired him for reading her enough to know what she liked. She saw a small bit of her in him. She leaned over and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. “A for effort.” 

“You do know as wizards, there are better spells to use? Have you thought something along the lines of controlling the other? This way you would not need to get your hands dirty and you could still have everything that you wanted. “ Georgina playfully rolled her eyes at him. “I don’t keep them around, that hardly makes me someone who has people wrapped around her fingers.” Though she did. It wasn’t because of love, it was because of what she held over them That satisfied her enough. 

“Oh, sorry.” Glancing around her, she managed to find a bush. It wasn’t blooming but autumn had already started to take its course, colouring the leaves in red and yellows. She broke a small branch off and brought it back to him. “I forgot, you’d need a little more encouragement. Should I declare my love for you before I get down on my knees?” She found it easy to joke with him. Somehow, over the years she felt easy enough around him, not to have to worry about if she’d offend him or not. “Or am I too late, and you’ve already fallen in love this week?”

“You’re talking to a good young man who knows next to nothing of this, Ms. Snyde,” he feigned offence, as if she was corrupting him in some way. Truth be told, he was buried too deep in his facade, never hinting at any alignment with the Redeemers for the simple fact that he was always smiling, always genuine, always friendly. Why people imagined all Redeemers were dark spirits wearing black at all times, he didn’t know, but he was more than determined to play his card to the end.

“No need for such formalities,” Sebastian spoke, as benevolent as usually, even squeezing her hand in a comforting manner. “You can totally get down on your knees without the love.” He knew his words were painting him as a dick, but he didn’t mind it, at least in front of Georgina. And if she were being serious about it, all the better. He was likely to not mind a blowjob in a tea shop bathroom. The question was welcome with a smile. “You’re never too late. I can be in love with someone for the week and still find love in my heart for you, always. That never mattered.”

thoughtnott​:

Theodore nodded absentmindedly, stagnant on the side of the street with his shop to his back. He couldn’t just stand around here. He needed to head home. Diagon was too busy and much too crowded on a fall afternoon. The chances of Daphne running into him were much too high here. “There’s no need to prostrate yourself. You’re forgiven.” He usually had more patience for Sebastian’s dramatics but the edges of guilt had been creeping into him every time he left the safety of his shop or his house. Lighting a cigarette up in an immediate need to gain some control over his ever present anxiety, Theo started walking home. Counting on Sebastian to follow him. “I don’t think there’s much to tell. I’ve been working more hours. Draco and I moved in together.”

–

“You could stand at least one more apology.” Gabi said airily, though she didn’t really mean it. By now she was well used to Seb’s moods and his muse. She just got used to persisting until she won out. Gabi always had been very stubborn. As Theo started walking Gabi followed after him. Draco, did she know a Draco? There were so many new people in this country it was hard to keep track. “I work at ze Ministry now, and eet has been… 15 days since I punched someone at ze front desk. Who eez Draco? Eez he nice like you, Theo?”

–

“Those are bad for you,” Sebastian clicked his tongue before taking the cigarette out of Theo’s mouth and dropping it on the ground. “Do you want to die and leave me alone with this messy girl? I’d die from annoyance.” He was too harsh to Gabrielle, so he turned around on his heels and patted her blonde hair. “So... should I be jealous of this Draco guy?” It was a joke. He knew Draco Malfoy fairly well despite not being a fan. At Gabrielle’s story telling, he couldn’t help but let his lips turn into a broad smile. “They’ll come to their senses and fire you if they haven’t already. I’m not concerned.”

It had been a few weeks since the train incident and Luna still felt unsettled by recent events. She didn’t want her fears to consume her but she couldn’t help it. The Redeemers had something that seemed impossible and the New Order was focused on strategic efforts to relieve Harry of the stress. Luna didn’t wish to see any of her friends in despair but it didn’t seem like something she could control. All she could do was the best even if it meant the smallest role. 

Luna was happy to see Sebastian. He seemed to come into her days when she needed something. The last time was to break up a customer who had lost his temper at her. The other time had been a nice encounter. “Oh-that’s so kind of you, Sebastian. I’m sure it is lovely and I can’t wait to read it!” she said happily, thinking that no one had really written her anything before except a letter of course. “I’ll guard it with my life.” She took the piece of paper and put her two hands over it, caressing it against her chest. “I just saw a flyer about something about you and a book coming out. Is that true? Might I ask what it’s about?”

She couldn’t help the smile that stretched across her features. “I…I am actually really happy to have run into you. It’s been so long. I’ve missed seeing you around. I didn’t scare you off or anything, did I?”

His laughter was pretentious crystal shattering. “Don’t guard it with your life. Please don’t guard it with your life. I’ll write you another, if it comes to it. I’ll write you one hundred,” Sebastian promised, with that consistent dose of syrup in his voice. As if mocking the old romance, as if aiming for it. His smile turned coy and sheepish in a second before he dared to look her into the eye again. “It’s not untrue. It already came out, about four months ago, but it’s just now getting some recognition. People are reading it and it amazes me without fail.” It wasn’t a lie. He knew he was good, but the feeling when someone spends time on the good things you’ve made is always a surprise.

He cleared his throat. “It’s, briefly put, about a pureblood heiress in the 1890′s Britain. Scarlet. Scarlet is her name. But despite coming from an influential family, a family that’s respected and fear in the pureblooded community, she is born a squib. All of the magic from her bloodline, disappeared. As you might, uh, know... certain biased communities, especially at that time, wouldn’t sit well knowing about a rightful child with no magic, so Scarlet will have to fake it all through her adolescence and then, adulthood. It’s...” Sebastian just shrugged, modest. “It’s well written, I suppose. Emotional.” 

He took opportunity of her words, saying that she’s missed him, and squeezed her hand cordially. “I’ve missed you too. You’ve got something I can’t make up if I write. It’s really mesmerizing.” He then gave her a soft smile. “You could never.”

location: diagon alley open to all

It had been a while since the news that the Redeemers might have the elder wand and nerves circulated like wildfire. There was a lot of speculation and room for errors, but it was better to have every base covered and not leave room for mistakes. They couldn’t afford any of their own to be handed to the Ministry or the Redeemers. At this point, almost both seemed like unreasonable prospects. Luna had just reread an owl she received from her father, reminding her of the distance not only physically but mentally she felt with him. He was reaching the age where one begins to feel guilt over their past and their daily correspondence was what Luna could offer now. 

The crisp fall air seemed new and fresh, something that gave her hope for the autumn season. Diagon Alley was full, though not nearly full as it might usually be. She recognized the subtle signs of change such as the season that might not be clear to someone who wasn’t standing with one foot in the middle of a war. Luna beamed at strangers as they passed, holding her cup of tea in her hands and a few other shopping endeavors. Ahead, she saw someone drop what looked like a piece of paper. “Excuse me-excuse me,” she squealed, walking as fast as she could before tapping the person insistently. “I believe you dropped this. I don’t know what it is-but the smallest things can hold the most importance!”

Autumn fell lazily on the streets, one yellowed leaf after the other, and Sebastian dreaded every moment of it. He relished in summer, enjoying a cold glass of whine in the shadows of some garden more than nearly anything else. Winter was harsh, but honest. Spring was too cheerful and alive for any objections. Only autumn stood there, forever the ploy of melancholics, ruined poets that made him want to never touch a quill again in objection. The weather was a phony and he couldn’t approve or write of it. 

Lost in his thoughts, he jumped slightly as Luna’s voice intruded in his mind, turning around like a sunflower at the sound. It took him a moment to place the voice and the face together, and another to let a genuine smile melt over his lips.  “And thank Merlin I did,” Sebastian countered with newly found confidence, squeezing her hand as she passed him the unnecessary piece of paper. Some poem, on the second thought. “Perhaps it was fate you found it. Perhaps it was supposed to be yours all along.” If there was something he was good at, that was playing with words. “It’s just a poor piece of poetry. Nothing of essence. But it’s my gift for you, if you’ll have it.”

“I have been thinking about you, actually.” Was he? He was unsure, but convinced that even if her blonde locks never crossed his mind, they should have and it was a mistake.

Pansy hadn’t been to Diagon Alley since before she had gotten back to London. She often found it to be rather drab, not nearly as exquisite or posh as some other places she could have frequented. She had been spoiled living in Paris for a few months, and frankly every time she was in Diagon Alley she had the misfortune of running into an old schoolmate or someone she didn’t want to, and today she was in no mood for any unexpected conversations or confrontations – which is how her conversations with old school mates typically went. 

Yet here she was, walking down the familiar cobblestone steps, her heels making a soft clacking against the stone. For some unknown reason, Flourish and Blotts was the only bookstore that could arrange for the book she needed to arrive to, why, she had no clue, and she wasn’t very happy about it. The only consolation was the quietness that surrounded Diagon Alley – after the attacks earlier, the alley was nearly empty.

Pansy procured the galleons she needed for her book, thanking the witch behind the counter with a short smile, which quickly fell as she turned around and her eyes connected with none other then Sebastian Rowle – this was simply going to easily for her not to have a run in with someone, she would have taken anyone over him though. There was simply something about Sebastian that bothered her, the fact that it bothered her might have been the problem all of it own but even though she had only interacted with him a handful of times, she had never felt at ease around him. 

“Sebastian –” her lips pulled into a polite smile but her eyes narrowed, “Having a pleasant day?”

@rowleing​

She seemed to secretly hate her with passion and it brought life to Sebastian’s otherwise bored eyes. He, of course, appreciated most the effort she was putting into her pretty, polite facade. He thought it was charmingly naive and smiled widely at just the sight of her. The Diagon Alley was just theirs, which was some sort of post-apocalyptic entertaining image. His best, Sunday smile was already plastered on his lips. 

“Mrs. Parkinson, of course. A sight for sore eyes.” He knew she was deaf to any kind word of his, but he insisted with them all the more due to that. “Nothing significant, until now. Let me know what Paris is saying these days. I’ve been missing France quite a bit, even though I never expected to.” Sebastian shrugged, as if missing the country in which he spent most of his teenage years was some dirty secret, a confession of some sort. “And what about your day?”

Georgina wasn’t a gift giver at all, but with Sebastian, given their long years of so called friendship, she liked to give him the element of surprise. With her dark hues fixed on his facial expression, her full lips curved into another smile. “Who are you calling thief?” Stealing wasn’t something that she condemned, why go to petty theft when there were so many more fun way to get things she wanted. She let him push her to the side, sticking her tongue out him. “I pay for this in a much better manner anyway. You should know this. I am sure you read every letter I’ve ever written you.” Narrowing her eyes, she reached for the two books. “If you already have them, then you definitely have no use of them, you little bastard. Besides, would I ever get you anything else than a bloody, devious, mischievous and exhilarating ending? Give me some credit, Sebastian.” She rolled her eyes. 

If she were anyone else, she perhaps would have felt uncomfortable, or maybe a rosy blush would have coloured her cheeks, alas, Georgina made her own rules in life, and perhaps feelings were not that driven. Or at the very least they did not control her in a way that they did others. “Why do you keep talking about robberies? One more word and I am going to show you exactly what I am capable of. To think so low of me?” She feign a shock followed by her hand placed gently on her own chest, for more of the sarcastic value. “No one deserves me, but here I am. The greatness and beauty right in front of you, oh how will you ever repay me?” She asked, watching the man seemingly search for something. 

“If you wanted me to suck something of yours, you could have just asked.” She answered arching a brow at him., a faint smile playing on the corner of her lips. 

“No, I’m positive this was pocketed straight from a museum,” he continued against her protests, only to taunt her about it. Her logic was a little off regarding the books no longer being needed after having had them for a while, but he grinned at her anyway, ready to take up the mindset only for the evening, if it suited her. Sebastian was a generally malleable presence, stealing thoughts from whoever he was around only to experience them. “I’ll burn the whole library to the ground and keep just these three. They’re the only ones who mean anything to me, anyway,” he promised in an affected tone, though seeming to fully mean every word. “You’re speaking nonsense. I always give you all of the credit.” 

“It’s your fault for disregarding a niffler to this extent. I wish I knew how to steal. Imagine the exhilaration. Suddenly having everything you wanted that others had and you did not. And don’t you brag about how much of a heart thief you are, spinning the entire Wizarding World around your fingers?” He humored her. He always did humor her, even when Sebastian found her a little, charmingly delusional. Still, he knew there was truth to every story, even when she was intoxicated thinking too highly of herself. And he did like a good story, even if on a subjectively self-centered manner. That’s why he kept the letters from her. 

He wasn’t taken aback by the line, knowing he should have expected it from her. Instead, he rolled his eyes playfully. “You know I’m a shy boy. All about euphemisms.” 

Name: Sebastian Rowle

Wand: redwood wood with a dragon heartstring core, 11 ¾" and hard flexibility

Patronus: sphinx cat (non-corporeal)

House: Ravenclaw (if not whatever Beauxbatons has got)

“Tick, tock.” Georgina said to the shop clerk rolling her eyes for the millionth time. The older man was moving in an excruciating slow pace, collecting the things she had asked. She would have charmed him or used the imperius curse on him if it weren’t for the fact the he would have dropped dead the moment her magic endeavoured him. She had no care for the man’s life, but she did care for the things he was collecting for her. This was no usual shop, not the Diagon Alley the other witches seemed crazy about. She found this little shop a few hours out of London the first year she returned after Berlin. The inside was decorated in black silk and velvet, the book covers matching the interior though each glistened with a hint of emerald green or ruby red. Georgina knew better than to touch any of them, smelling the magic of the books, the tingy smell of the dark curses that seemed to be inviting her hands to stroke the think book that matched her ring. 

After what seemed like decades, the man finally put the package down in front of her and slowly, told her the price. Georgina simply grinned, leaning into the man’s ear and whispering the information she knew he wanted to know. Everything came for a price, and Georgina Snyde had the range. The man shivered but satisfied handed her the package, and without a second thought she apparated out of the room. 

She appeared again right behind the familiar curly head, and immediately threw her arms around him. “Well, what do you think?” She said, handing him the package. Inside, there were two black velvet books, both glistening the ruby red that she saw just moments ago. If he were to open them, in one he would find dark poetry written by a french writer 3 centuries ago, discussing things that were not touched for all those years. The other was a blank, a bewitched book that only showed what was written with the gift of a drop of sacrificial blood. The story would be different to each. 

Georgina smiled, the almost honest smile that she had offered Sebastian over the years. “I thought since last time I left so abruptly, I might as well bring a gift.” 

@rowleing​

Georgina apparated in a hurry and took him off guard by default. He needed a second to catch up with all the agitation happening around him. Raising a finger to request a moment to look at the package, he then twirled his wand into the air so the three books would levitate before his eyes. It took him a moment, with his fairly bad sight, but after squinting a little at the covers, he hummed the closed-mouthed version of a whistle. “Hold the fuck on, that’s two times Racine poetry? Get out of here, you thief,” Sebastian nudged her gently before pointing his wand at them and making them get obediently back in the package. The third was not unheard of, but it took him a while to pick up the trick. “I have two of these, but not one with a red cover. I hope we’ve got ourselves a red ending as well.” 

The gifts were clearly unexpected and a big time surprise. Sebastian let it sink in, wanting to laugh at the randomness of things. “Have you robbed a museum because you were missing me? That’s sweet,” he pressed a hand against his chest, then patting his new three books, held on an arm. “I truly don’t deserve you,” Sebastian then recited like a Racinian tragedian, clearly feigning modesty, but still wanting to express his gratitude. It didn’t take him long before putting the books back in the air in attempt to search through his pockets for something to gift back. 

“Would you be interested in... I don’t know, fucking hard candy?”

location: corridor !! status: open !!

Draco was already annoyed by the fact that he had to be on the train at all. His patience wore thin when he was immediately seated in the compartment with not only his future wife, but Harry fucking Potter. After some forced conversation, the compartment had mostly fallen into a silence and Draco was perfectly fine with that. He’d be more than happy when he could finally get off the bloody train. His mood worsened considerably when he was met in his compartment by Ron Weasley. Before Draco could even mutter an insult, however, Weasley’s fist connected with his nose and he hadn’t the faintest idea what this was about. It took a few moments before the two were separated and Draco tried his best to examine the damage in the window of one of the compartments. 

“Punched by fucking Weaselbee,” he muttered under his breath, hissing at the pain. 

“Don’t worry, it looks great on you,” Sebastian intervened with softness, disinterested in mocking Draco Malfoy, though he didn’t mind if the conversation came to that. He even liked Draco most of times, though it always seemed as if he didn’t do a great job showing it. “There are spells for it, though I wouldn’t sign up to be the one to cast them. I could bring in Theo. He’ll for sure spare you.”

location; compartment 5 open to; @regina-selwyn, @ofdcphne​, @thoughtnott, @rowleing

This was fun! Shed definitely was enjoying this. Time with Theo, and the girl Theo liked, and Sebastian? The only thing that would’ve made it all better was if Fleur was here too. The other girl seemed alright. Gabi hadn’t really seen her around but outside the people who stopped by the Ministry and people Fleur or the Weasley’s knew, Gabi didn’t get out much.

She’d clamored over Sebastian to get a window seat, ruffling his hair on the way and now sat staring avidly out the window. “There are so many trees!” She said, fascinated. “Are zey always green? Eet eez not like zis een France.”

–

Sebastian was halfheartedly reading from the newspaper, caring too little about any of the words written on the yellowed piece of paper. If he put his mind to it, he would have written a better newspaper with the information in this one, but nobody had time for that. Distracted and sleepy, as the morning hours were never kind with him, the young man looked through half closed eyelids at his blonde friend. “The grass is always greener when it’s not in France, mon chéri. It’s just how the sun beats. Even the plants go yellow from envy in your sister’s home country.” There it was, Sebastian’s favorite hobby of praising Fleur only to turn the situation slightly uncomfortable.  

Lisa didn’t know Sebastian or his allegiance to the Redeemers, if she did she wouldn’t even talk to him. His face seemed familiar like she had seen him around before but she didn’t know his name. She had been defensive when she felt his eyes on her and was quick to apologise when she realised he wasn’t judging her.“Well my boyfriend is currently on bedrest because he came back from being kidnapped, so i wouldn’t say it’s ‘lighter than my mind makes it out to be’.” Then there was this whole pregnancy thing she had yet to wrap her head around. 

“Well, he did come back, didn’t he?” Sebastian had a more pragmatic manner of looking at things, shrugging but not meaning to come off as insensitive either. “Things are likely to be better from now on. Is your boyfriend feeling alright?”

location: leaky cauldron !!  status: open !! 

He didn’t usually drink. He knew better than to drink. Whenever he drank, his occlumency was shite. However, after the shift that he’d had at St. Mungo’s there was absolutely no way he was going to remain sober. It was one of the shifts where everything that could have gone wrong, went wrong. No matter what he did, there was something else that went wrong. A patient refused for him to be their healer because of the things that he’d done. That was a common occurrence. Usually, he didn’t let it get to him, but it had bothered him today for some reason. Draco threw the first glass of firewhiskey back without much restraint. He enjoyed the burning in his throat. He nursed the second and was now starting on his third. The walls in his mind were still there - just a little bit wobbly. 

The blonde sneered, though, whenever he felt someone’s presence at his side. How annoying. “Are you going to speak or are you going to sit there and stare all evening? Spit it out.”

Sebastian had a habit of making up connections -- or at least levels of closeness -- overwritten, more interesting than in reality. He sought meaningful connections and sometimes pretended that the people he knew, he knew better -- even if just for a moment or a night. “I was going to cheer for finally bumping into Malfoy enjoying the nightlife, but it appears you’re doing nothing of the sort. Sorrow drinking? I’d hate to learn it’s true. You mustn’t have anything in the world to upset you, really.”

location: st. mungos, cafeteria 

status: open to all 

After her appointment with Susan she couldn’t go straight back to Michael’s room. She needed to process this before she could tell him. After all this was  huge, life changing information. She was pregnant. There was a growing baby inside of her. Michael and her were going to be parents. It sounded surreal even in her own thoughts. First she needed to figure out a way to tell him. Then… Merlin, how was she going to tell her parents? They didn’t even know Michael and her had been living together since he came back! Feeling herself get stressed again she went straight to the cafeteria to get some snacks, hopefully once she was done with them a plan would’ve formed inside her head. Her tray was filled with various things, from fruits to crips and even a croissant. Seeing someone approach her table she looked up from her food. “Don’t judge me. I’m stress eating.” 

No one came to St. Mungo’s for just a twisted wrist -- not even due to physical force rather than an odd writing position -- but Sebastian. His mother taught him that professional medical help was above any sort of trick he knew how to cast on himself, and that lesson, along with a blind trust in whoever worked at St. Mungo’s stuck with him. Still, it was a procedure that didn’t last longer than a few minutes, leaving him with infinite spare time. The young man decided to get a coffee in the meantime. An indulgent smile covered his lips hearing the woman’s excuse. It was an immediate reflex to reassure her he wasn’t judging. “While I would’ve said by all means, eat what and how much you want, it’s saddening you’re stressed. I’m sure it’s lighter than your mind makes it out to be.” Usually a bit of a lotus eater, Sebastian found it difficult to truly worry, if anything. He always felt as if there was a solution to anything, no matter how big of a problem.

Penelope felt relief wash over her when her unusually-imposing question was met with not only grudging acceptance, but maybe even welcome. She sat quickly to avoid a passing family also looking for a table and smiled gratefully at her new dining companion. “Thank you so much,” she said honestly, already feeling more awake with the sun shining above her. She flushed a little at his offer to share his drink, already feeling like she’d put the wizard out enough. “Oh, are you sure? I’m already imposing on your table,” Pen said, waving a hand vaguely at the area around them. “It’s nice to meet you Sebastian, I’m Penelope.” 

Only afterwards did it hit him that his previous invitation to drink lemonade with him implied drinking the same lemonade -- or so Penelope understood. But he went with it without the slightest frown, pushing the new glass a bit in her direction with a relaxed shrug. It was such a nice day. Why worry or fight against a small misunderstanding, when there was nothing simpler than going with the flow. “Likewise, a pleasure,” he nodded along courteously. “And it’s no longer my table. It’s ours. Make yourself at home, please.”

Wade wouldn’t have ever thought of himself as someone to do self-pity in public and even more humiliating was he made it more cliche with a drink in front of him. He could only hope his company would be able to help him out of this rut. All he could see when he closed his eyes was Susan’s face, the face of someone who was disappointed and her leaving his apartment. He knew there would be more moments like that and it wasn’t even their first fight. He couldn’t seem to get his words or do this right and wondered if he was even made for a relationship like this. It seemed he kept messing up. “The disappointment where they are disappointed in you and you are disappointed in yourself as well.” The comment from Sebastian did earn Wade a grin and followed Sebastian’s gesture. “Thank you for humoring me. I can get competitive though, I must warn you.”

“Of course. It’s a cliche. Everyone has experienced it,” Sebastian nodded along with ease, not meaning to diminish Wade’s interior pain, but, quite on the contrary, trying to suggest that it was more common and less of an unforgivable mistake. “Now, it depends where it started, but, in theory, time and a genuine apology does heal all that. I don’t know your situation and cannot give advice -- not that you asked it from me -- but maybe the solution is to stop thinking about it for a little while. We have a contest going on.” Sebastian’s smile turned devilish at the other’s last words, suddenly excited to take a seat at the first table available. “Then competition you should get. What’s your drink of choice?”