milliways_bar | (no subject)

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(no subject)

[OOM: If I could I would make you a raging river,
with angry rapids, supplied with rain,
so you could always meander
and forever be able to run away
without contending with myths wrongly interpreted, with pain.
A harsh wind.]

One of the odd (and sometimes quite nice) things about Milliways is that time works differently here.

So while it was only last night that Orpheus fled from the apparently terrifying prospect of dancing with someone he genuinely cared about, from the perspective of the bar, it's been about a week for him in Paris.

He's hardly eaten or showered since he left, and he's still slightly inebriated as he stumbles into the bar, reeking of cigarettes and alcohol. He seems surprised to find himself there, and stumbles into an empty table.

"Oops, sorry," he mutters, not looking to see who he might be apologizing to, and carries his guitar (fingers raw from playing for nearly a week straight) to the bar to get another drink.

The trouble with releasing your emotions in a torrent on the city of Paris is that it leaves you rather, well, drained.

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"Nope. No party," Orpheus says, slumping in his seat as he sips the tea.

Scorpius didn't think there was.

" - Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's complicated," Orpheus says in response.

He doesn't want to talk about the last week. There isn't much to say. And he's not sure he wants to talk about the sparking incident.

But he feels like, after all the wheedling he's done to Scorpius, he should say something about Steve.

He just isn't sure what.

"Oh."

Like a wall sometimes, this one.

"Well, we could try un-complicating it? If you wanted to.

"I've to answer a riddle when I want to enter my dorm at Hogwarts so I've got a bit of experience."

"I don't know if it can be uncomplicated."

It's something more of a conundrum than a riddle, and it's not a new one to Orpheus, really.

Like a vault at Gringotts more than a wall, really. With the very best wards and Scorpius doesn't have a key.

"I see. But also not knowing means there's a chance it could? Be simplified, at the very least. And easier to talk about, maybe."

He's not trying to be!

Well, not this time.

"Possibly." He's willing to concede that much.

It's hard to talk about uncomplicating complicated things when you've been in a haze of self-pity for the last week and are still at least a little bit drunk.

The tea is good, though.

"How's Albus?"

Scorpius sighs.

"He's fine," he mutters, feeling defeated.

He rests his chin in his palm, watching as Orpheus drinks his tea.

Orpheus feels vaguely like he should tease Scorpius about that. Possibly even smirk. He just can't muster the energy.

"Good."

"Yes."

Scorpius sighs again.

"Do you want a cucumber or cress sandwich? Maybe a scone?"

He considers, briefly, trying to bribe Orpheus into talking with the food.

"That's so very English," Orpheus rasps with a faint smile.

Food, though. Food sounds good.

"Maybe something more...substantial."

"Roast potatoes, lamb, and Yorkshire pudding?"

Also so very English, but very substantial!

Edited 2012-08-12 03:54 (UTC)

He thinks for a moment and then nods.

And his stomach growls. He honestly can't remember when he last ate.

Scorpius goes to collect a plate from Bar and when he returns he sets it wordlessly in front of Orpheus.

Then he grabs his seat again and waits.

Orpheus might get a bit more chatty once he's had a bite?

Orpheus is a little awkward with knife and fork as he eats, but he does manage a quick, "Thank you," around a mouthful.

His table manners may leave something to be desired currently.

Right. Not the sort of chatty tidbit Scorpius was listening for.

And so: For the third time! In so many minutes! Another sigh!

Then:

"I think I might be in love with Albus?"

Orpheus pauses to chew and swallow, and then.

"Oh?"

And after a pause.

"I mean. Oh! Um...wow. Good for you!"

Scorpius' mouth twists into a frown and he shrugs.

"Yeah.

"But honestly now, what have you been doing?"

Orpheus' face mirrors that frown.

"Getting into trouble, I think."

He tugs his collar up a bit to hide the two small puncture marks on his neck.

Which means Scorpius' gazes zeroes in on the collar tugging.

"What're you hiding?"

Aside from the billion things that are already kept hidden.

"It's nothing," Orpheus says, but he has to stop the tugging then, or it would look suspicious, so the marks may just be visible.

Right then.

Time for Scorpius to get a bit dirty.

He's out of his seat quite quickly and reaching for Orpheus' collar.

"Hey!" Orpheus says, but there's nothing much he can do to fend off the attack with his hands as they are.

"It's nothing," he says again, now that he's been found out.

Scorpius' bum hits his seat with a heavy thump again and he looks like he got a whiff of some awful odour.

Which he very well may have done, given Orpheus' current state of hygiene.

"It's not that bad," he argues, picking up his tea and holding it in front of him like a shield.