Where: Streets of London, not far from 12 Grimmauld Place When: 26th of December, just past midnight Who: @oleahnder
Streamers dawned the walls and crackers lined the tables, music and wine flowed freely from speakers and glasses, and still all Jan Sirac could do was feel utterly and completely alone. Ignoring the elephant(s) in the room was one thing, but coming face to face with them was another entirely. Those once dead now alive and pacing the halls of his home. All but one.
Ollie's presence certainly wasn't unwelcomed, it never could be. It made sense to invite him, of course it did. His appearance though, certainly wasn't expected. It couldn't be, right? This was a Polat house after all. And Ollie had made it very clear that the love he once held for them had soured. If only that were true both ways.
Something akin to malice bubbled in Jan as he watched Ollie make rounds in the house. His house. Hawk eyes watched as Ollie managed fake smiles in front of those he deemed important enough and completely ignored the ones who once meant the most to him. Jan received a glare from across the room at one point but that didn't feel good enough, didn't hurt enough.
It was an escape almost as quick as a flash, but another swig of fire whiskey propelled Jan to the other side of the door, tucking a miniature ribboned box in his back pocket.
"Hey!"
His words were sharp and quick. Jan half expected Ollie to apparate right then and there but he didn't. The silence that followed suffocated him and despite always having something to say, Jan found his words coming up short and catching in the burning of his throat. Finally, he glared back, the courage and chaos that often defined him making its appearance.
"Who do you think you are? You spend the whole evening at a party and can't even give me so much as a hello?"
In another life, it could have come across as a simple jab between friends; they were sharing a Christmas feast, lovingly prepared by their parents, scarfing down every delicious bite between games of Exploding Snap, their families whole and smiling.
But this life was different, Jan had made it so. His words released with a venomous tendency he could only reserve for the hatred of himself.
