#john 001

Mr. Dawlish? [ he pauses by the door awkwardly ] Sorry, I didn’t realize you were busy. I can come back. 

@jackxdawlish

If Alastor was being completely honest, he was scared to go back into the house. 

He’d paced the street for about an hour, collar up to keep the wind from biting at his neck, magical eye spinning around nearly constantly to keep an eye on his surroundings to make sure that no one was watching or following him. But every few moments, his eye would point up, towards the house, towards the kitchen. John was home, he could see him, and yet he couldn’t seem to actually make himself enter the house. 

John was going to be cross, his mind told him. He’d left, being very vague about it, and told John he had to go away on business. Nine times out of ten, that meant the Order. This was the one out of ten where it was not. And it was the chance of John guessing that this was the odd one out that had him still standing on the street. 

John had finished dinner by the time Alastor finally sighed and crossed the street to the door of the house. He entered his house, their house-- it still felt odd to think it, that he’d let John make the space that had always been his and his alone a space for two of them--after looking around the street one more time, and closed the door quietly behind him. His steps were light as he walked to the kitchen, abandoning his heavy jacket by the door and finally coming to rest leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen. John was standing by the sink, still, where he’d been the last time Alastor had snuck a glance into the house. 

“I knew if I was gone long enough, you’d have to tackle the pile of dishes,” he said dryly, his way of greeting the man he’d felt a painful need to be close to again since he’d left. “I haven’t seen that countertop in a long time.”

Archie had been reunited with Genevieve, reported in to the Aurors in charge, and settled into his quarters in relatively short order - he didn’t really travel with much. Most of his belongings were in his London apartment, though he had the necessities here. He carried more work paraphernalia to be honest, and anticipated setting his office up would take a bit more time. Gen had, regrettably, gone back to her own work, though it was probably for the best since he would be too distracted to get anything done with Gen around. 

He stepped into the office, or what he thought was his office. Seeing as it was currently occupied, with two desks, he came to the quick conclusion that he was wrong. “My apologies,” he said quickly, glancing from the young man at the desk to the other, empty desk. “I must have miscounted doors on my way here. I’m Archie Pennington, here to assist the Aurors.” It seemed like a safe assumption that this man was an Auror himself, although theoretically he could be a professor.

@jackxdawlish

Excuse me, Auror Dawlish? Do you have a minute?

@jackxdawlish

So I’d’ve gotten you flowers, but I couldn’t find any that matched your eyes in the gift shop. So I brought real people food instead. I heard you liked apple pie. I of course licked it first, but you know. Had to make sure it wasn’t poisoned. Constant vigilance, like the old man says.

KARKAT: JOHN?

All amounts of being aware of your surroundings pretty much dissipates when you see him. How long has it been since you’ve talked to him? Is he even going to care that you’re here at all? For a second or two you hesitate but you’ve made a resolution to not fall out of contact with people anymore. So you run on the nubby legs you’d all but forgotten in an attempt to catch up, nearly knocking over a display outside a corner shop.

KARKAT: HEY SOCKHEAD KARKAT: HOW ABOUT SLOWING DOWN SO THE REST OF US WITH NORMALLY PROPORTIONED LEGS CAN EVEN HOPE TO CATCH UP WITH YOU? KARKAT: THAT’S RIGHT EGBERT, I’M TALKING TO YOU. KARKAT: HOLY SHIT. WHERE ARE YOU EVEN GOING THAT’S SO DAMN IMPORTANT? HEY!