As the World Falls Down || Vincent & Charity || January 20th, 1979
January 20th, 1979
Charity’s Flat
“Come on Bruno.” Clambering up from the rock she’d been resting on while the corgi pup played in the snow, she shivered and unwound his leash. When the pup ignored her, she closed her eyes praying for patience and repeated herself, adding a little more sternness to her voice so the dog would know she was serious. When Bruno bounded up to her she squatted down and carefully secured the leash.
The walk back to her flat was relatively uneventful. She ran across a few couples that recognized her from the Prophet. One witch went so far as to escort her son to the other side of the street while another actually sniffed in her direction and minced past. Really? She glanced down at Bruno who looked equally unimpressed and shook her head.
By the time she made it back, she was freezing, her toes numb from the cold and her fingers not much better. Pausing in the kitchen she took a moment to run a drying spell over Bruno so he stayed warm and dry, and then she set about divesting herself of her heavy boots and coat. She checked her fireplace, but she knew from the chill in her digits that she wasn’t going to get warm that way so she finally disappeared into her bathroom and stood under the hot water until her protesting skin finally warmed even if the chill never left her bones.
The closest she’d come to warmth had been that random night when she’d gone home with Fabian Prewett, and she’d not let herself repeat the incident no matter how tempting. When she finally climbed out, her creamy skin was lobster red from the sting of the water, but she ignored it wrapping up in a heavy towel before she set about drying her hair. When she finally emerged from the bathroom, she slipped into a giant fuzzy bathrobe and the white kitten slippers Arabella had gotten her one Christmas a few years back.
She smiled faintly when Bruno attached them before she moved into the kitchen to peer into her fridge, but she wasn’t really hungry so she opted for the bottle of wine again. She was turning into an alcoholic and she couldn’t even bring herself to care because the world already thought far worse about her anyway. Filling a tall glass with wine, she set the bottle on the counter and padded into the living room, settling herself on the couch before dragging a thick book on herbology she’d been working through for the last few weeks. The words danced on the page, letters mixing to form new sentences that had nothing to do with plants. Her finger danced over the page and they gave her a merry chase. Come back. Take me with you. The melted off the page…
Someone was knocking at the door.
She jumped almost spilling the remnants of her wine—Merlin did I drink all of it? She wasn’t fast enough to save the book. Sighing she hauled it back up and closed it awkwardly before shifting her feet off the couch much to a sleeping Bruno’s dismay. Pins and needles danced up and down her legs and she wobbled. There was another knock, though it wasn’t as certain and her heart lurched into her throat. Maybe it was Arabella! Ignoring her protesting legs, she yanked her robe a little tighter around her body and foolishly hauled the door open without checking.
Foolishly because it was not Arabella on the other side. It was…
“Vincent?” She blinked up at him in surprise, not even sure of what to say. When a cold draft stole in through the door to wrap around her, she shook herself and took a hasty step back, waving him in, and shutting the door just as quickly. “Is everything alright?” She asked unable to fathom why he would be there unless something awful had happen.