Heâd not correct her on that. Unless asked how he spends his days lately, heâd not say a word of how spells like that were hardly a drop in the ocean of how he uses actually his magic. Heâd not say a word of how he makes helicopters go ragdoll and occasionally turn into different shapes by morphing their structure ever so slightly. Heâd not say a word of how blood rituals were as normal as going grocery shopping, and that his only disagreement with it is how his housemate tracks bloody footprints through the halls like a child that came in from playing in puddles left by the rain. Heâd not say a word of how at home he feels in a timeline so far from this home that he couldnât put any description to it other than âhumble chaosâ.
  He watches her walk over to the bean bag and sprawl over it. His lips twitch upwards into a gentle smile, that of which brings a slight twinkle to his eyes as he takes off his boots to set them asideâ mere force of habit than anything else. It felt more natural to walk around in his socks or even just his bare feet. Ever try walking in the sand with nobody else around and only the sea to talk to you? Itâs quite soothing, even if you canât always understand what the sea is saying back to you.
  âwhen push comes to shove, this is where i come to get away from it all. itâs my home. itâs always felt more like home than the other one that i built.â He huffs out a bit of laughter.  âi could never figure out why, and for once i didnât chase the curiosity. best to leave it be, and enjoy what i have while i have it, right kiddo?â Itâs a gentle jab towards her and her persistence on being⊠how should I say⊠ever so diligent in her ways of REVENGE. Itâs all well and good but at the end of the day, you have to notice what you have rather than what you donât. A lesson he learned the hard way.
  His footsteps are nigh soundless against the floorboards, only a faint shuffling that sounds more like terrycloth of a robe than it does cotton of socks. Best to leave it be, perhaps?  âwould you like anything to drink or to eat? the snacks around here are to die for.â He doesnât say where âhereâ is though.  âyouâd probably love nearly all of the trademarked sweets.â
[â]--Â âA mystery or two is okay to be left like that rather than chase everything out curiosity. Sometimes it is, after all, often more enticing to see the shiny wrapped present than to see whatâs inside, isnât it?â Unless itâs an ill-natured/hearted present. Those are never nice.
    Sure, knowledge is power and all that jazz, but when it comes to such... abstract yet deep things such as the sensation of home being far more welcoming than at home, sometimes the logical/rational reasons either arenât as satisfactory, or, sometimes some things donât need some ulterior motive to pull on its strings, they just, are.
    Though of course, if home is failing to feel like home for Fleur, then thatâs probably a subtle sign that there are things there that need to be sorted out-- which if sheâs being honest, isnât too surprising. But she doesnât know how to point that out without sounding like sheâs being biased and condemning his home, which is not what she wants at all, so she decides to leave that bit quiet. Besides, sheâs sure that Fleur already knows there are loose ends anyways, he doesnât need a munchkin of a tiny witch to tell him.
    Again, this is his home away from home, this is where he comes to feel at home and get away from it all. Madotsuki wouldnât DARE bring in junk to interfere with that. Not HERE. That would just defeat the purpose of here.
    She lifts her head back up, glancing up at the lovely dork of her cousin, with a grin that is almost daring. Did he just say sweets?
    âOh. Donât you tempt me like that, cousin. You should know by now that Iâm a complete sucker for sugar.â
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