A brief flutter at the peephole before the locks were turned and the door thrown up. “Sev!” Her smile took up her whole face; she hadn’t been expecting him, but a visit from her best friend was never unwelcomed. “God, you’re all bundled up, it must be colder than I thought out there.” Stepping back to let him in, she snapped a scarf off the hook by the door and tossed it onto the chair where her coat was laying, ready to be slung on.
“I’m making dinner before I head to work. I think there’s enough for two,” she said, voice fading as she disappeared into the tiny kitchen. “I have maybe an hour before I have to go.” Her head popped around the corner to grimace at him; they never got to spend enough time together. “I hope spaghetti is okay. Come on, take your coat off, get comfortable.” A soft laugh; there wasn’t much room for comfort in her tiny flat, where the options for sitting were the rickety chair she’d rescued from the side of the street or the bed. With Severus, though, she wasn’t concerned. They’d been too close of friends for too long to need any sort of formality. Besides, he knew it was the best she could manage on her paltry salary.
“What would you like to drink?”
Her greeting was almost jarring in the warmth that it exuded, his mind still lost in the mire of violence and horror he had seen already today. It was such a stark reminder of the double life he was leading that as he drew off his coat and watched her disappear into the kitchen, he was left adrift in the contemplation of it all.
Snapping to when she mentioned dinner, he hung his coat up and replied, “I’m not all that hungry, actually.” The idea of eating was – not appealing at the moment. He could still see the blood from the curse that had poured from Destin far too clearly – he could only hope his expression would not give away anything too awful while she ate.
Heaving a sigh, Severus took a seat on the chair with care not to cause any damage to the rickety thing and wondering not for the first time if he could patch it up with transfiguration. He always got distracted before he thought to suggest it, and he knew today would be no different.
“I don’t suppose you could call off today?” He asked, not wasting any time getting to the point of matters, if only because he knew it would take some convincing – and with only an hour ahead of him, he did not wish to make any slips because the time restraint made him foolish.
Severely Archived 