#nottevie

If there was one thing Avery thought he would never have to worry about, it was arranged marriages. It was a more Muggle concept in Turkey and his parents had married for love (before divorcing for hate) and so it had never been on their radar to look for a match on Ayvaz’s behalf. His mother, ever the liberal, saw no reason why they had to engage with the British pureblood frenzy to pair the teenagers off before they had to resort to ‘sullied’ lines and his dad was too laidback about his children’s lives to concern himself with such things.

Then came along the Notts.

Evie was a pureblood and her father a friend of Burak’s, so that was dad happy while Adalet thought she was sweet and might be good for Ayvaz somehow. He was rolling his eyes at his mother’s back when his parents realised she might be the one girl they agreed was suitable for him and they put on a united front for the first time since before the divorce. Fuck if he knew how to respond to that. Just spend time with her, they told him. Make an effort and see if you get on! As if they hadn’t already been at school together and yet not grown close. She had never accepted any flirtatious advances he had made in the past, either. Still, nobody was expecting a proposal (yet) (he hoped) so maybe he could handle a few dates.

“Hi. I haven’t booked anywhere,” he admitted upfront. Honestly, he had forgotten he was supposed to be going out with her this evening until his mother had sent him an owl with a list of dos and don’ts, but he wasn’t going to go as far as to admit that. Instead, in an attempt to look more conscientious than horrific at forward-planning, he added, “I wasn’t sure what type of food you like.”