Oh, the Webs We Weave
@theserpentunder-t
London was an old city. Not as old as Sal of course. Enough time had passed that people no longer correlated his name to his face. He could walk the cobblestone streets, could sit on its benches. And, honestly, that was quite a beautiful luxury after spending the last few centuries under the sweltering Indian sun.
When Salazar had suggested to Sachin, his now wife of three years, that they move back to England to raise a family he hadn't expected her to agree. He suspected he wanted to get away from her family, but didn't pretend to understand. He two of them had been in the city for but a few months, having already made several connections. One Salazar particularly enjoyed was the Colemans. Sal had met Mr Coleman at a muggle gentleman's club, where the aspect of watching muggles attempt to explain things with this 'science' nonsense fascinated him. He found it so very entertaining.
Sal had gotten to know Mr Coleman on a personal level for one reason only: Mrs Coleman. Any other notion was a lie. Sal couldn't possibly care less about the muggle man. But Rebecca?
Usually Salazar brought Sachin with him when he paid a visit. Usually, but this time he did not.
