Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire ~ JK Rowling
chessieabernathy:
Chessie knows he’s trying to keep this casual, trying his best to push past the tension between them and have a semi-normal conversation. You could see it from a mile away. “The truth will set you free,” she comments easily, taking another puff of her cigarette. She’s unsure how to reply to him – Ben makes it sound like something mundane happened, as if he forgot King’s birthday or was late to dinner. There was no way for her to respond to his comment properly, she decided. There was no way to string together a sentence that was anything short of her telling him King was justified. “It’s not any different for how you are normally,” she finds herself tease, hoping to keep up the light and airy conversation, rather than get into the gritty details he surely wants to ask about. At the mention of O, Chessie purses her lips into a thin line for a moment, biting the inside of her cheek. “We’ve spoken,” she opens with, “It’s been… complicated. With work.”
"That’s why I’ve never been a fan of the truth,” He joked. Was it bad or good that they could be joking together? Especially after what had happened. The big elephant in the room, or rather the air, in this case, was still there. He wanted to ask her more but knew it wasn’t his place to do so. He didn’t know her like that. “And that’s why I don’t work.” He acknowledged, “It seems too stressful.” The truth was, Ben didn’t have any skills anyways. “Do you think I’d make a good model? I know Paris pretty well.” He had no idea what being a model consisted of but he was trying to keep their conversation as light as she was. “You know if you ever need to get out of the house or whatever, you’re always welcome to give me a call. I’m usually not busy. And it’ll be a nice break for me too. O’s also pissed at me.”
monty-santos:
“I’ve been back since the day after Freya’s funeral, I couldn’t be a ticket back in time,” Monty sighed, a shadow passing over his face as he had yet another reminder of all the death that had decided to come for his family this year. And while he tried to push the unexpected pangs of grief back tot he back of his head, Monty knew that it was still probably written all over his face. “I actually don’t really drink anymore, to be honest. I mean, I’m still working on completely stopping, but I actually converted to Buddhism and it’s greatly looked down upon since you’re supposed to abstain from things that can cloud the mind. But I will take any other recommendations that you’ve got. Are you planning on going to France at some point soon?” he asked, mostly out of curiosity. “I’ve gotten the word out and a few people have. Sheridan, I don’t know if you’ve met her yet, actually donated what I’m pretty sure was about half a Target. So it helps, there’s just also need for more.”
He had heard things, heard about people dying but they could’ve been just rumors. Unfortunately, they weren’t. “Shit, you’re really a Buddhist now? What do you do if you don’t drink now?” He asked, thoroughly confused. “I don’t know if I can recommend anything else since that counts out everything else,” Ben was always into clouding his judgment, “I’m not sure when we’re going to go back. I have some things to do here and then hopefully that’ll be one of the first stops.” He was optimistic that they wouldn’t be here for too long. “Nope, I haven’t met her yet,” He actually didn’t mind being out of the loop abroad but now that he was home, he was curious about everything. “At least someone’s helping out that’s got the money.”
arlovasquez:
chessieabernathy:
Chessie hummed as he spoke, half listening as she followed alongside Arlo. At his warning, she shared the same laugh (mostly out of drunkness, rather than actual humor). “I kind of fucked up your guest room, too.” She found herself admit, without giving him the chance to react before her attention was on Ben. Her eyes rolled at the sight of him, a smile present on her face. “A’course you’re hiding out,” she comments easily, ignoring his question as she crosses the room, moving to sit next to him on the bed. Tucking her knees under her, she lets out a laugh. “Stop trying to make me drink fucking beer,” she complains, giving him wide eyed look, as if in complete shock that he’d bring the subject up.
“S’about to be a very white Christmas,” Chessie begins again, pulling the two small bags of coke from her clutch. She holds them up with a smile, as if to show them off before turning her attention back to Arlo. “Do you have a mirror we can use?”
Arlo hadn’t expected to seen Ben when he opened his bedroom door, but there he was, drinking a beer away from the other party guests. He couldn’t help but chuckle, not even the least bit bothered by the fact someone was in his room without his knowledge.
“Hooking up?” He asked with a chuckle. “No, we’re just…” he trailed off, unsure of whether he should actually say it in front of Ben. Though he realized Chessie had no issue with it since she was the one who pulled it out of her handbag.
“Yeah! I’ve got one over here,” Arlo said as he walked towards his dresser. “I keep it here so I can put ties on.” Retrieving the mirror, he crossed back and handed it to Chessie. He stepped back and watched the other two sitting on his bed.
“I would be a bad host if I didn’t tell you that I highly suggest the floor at the present state of my sheets…”
He fixed his posture as they came in. Why did no one else like beer? What the hell was that about? However, he decided to let it go. Chessie sparked his interest immediately when she mentioned white and Christmas, now that Christmas was actually over. Shit. He was past the point where his judgment was just cloudly. It was really almost gone. He watched Arlo get the mirror and hand it to Chessie, and then his eyes were fixated on those two bags. Was he allowed to get in on this too?
“The floor? Alright.” He said with a shrug, he wasn’t about to argue. “Would you two mind sharing? I usually don’t mooch but this shit is looking very fine.” He admitted as he positioned himself on the floor. “What’s the point of New Year’s Eve if I don’t have fun? I mean if we all don’t have fun.” He slurred as he glanced at Chessie and then Arlo.
quinnxarchibald:
“You could have done it and you know it.” Quinn responded, crossing his arms over his chest. As Ben spoke, Quinn felt a wall around himself begin to crumble. Something about the look in Ben’s eyes made him want to stop everything and comfort the brunet. He was still mad, so incredibly mad, but seeing Ben so upset always made Quinn sad. “Ben…” Quinn paused, shaking his head. “Listen. You asked me to do it but I said yes. I agreed to it. I’m not mad about that.” Quinn admitted, shaking his head. “I’m mad that you left. I was ready to deal with the aftermath but not without you.”
He shook his head, trying to convince himself that he couldn’t have reached out to Quinn. It just wouldn’t have been possible, right? “I knew shit was gonna be bad but not that bad that it’d really fuck shit up,” For once, he should’ve been thinking about Quinn too, not just himself. “I had to leave,” He knew that it didn’t make sense nor could he even explain why but he had to. “I had to. I couldn’t stay here. I needed to leave.”
What is your favorite holiday memory?
“My father ruined the myth of Santa Clause for me when I was six and he asked why I still believed in that man. So that Christmas, my mom must’ve told him to make it up to me and I got a Rolex because he thought that was appropriate. I was able to sell that when I was abroad and let me tell you, definitely worth it. Thanks dad.”
chessieabernathy:
Somewhere past the sunrise, Chessie hadn’t woken with feeling a common feeling of being both groggy and mildly hungover. The combination always warranted a warm cup of coffee to ease her into the day – Even with plenty of party guests sleeping all over her home thanks to the blizzard, she didn’t miss a beat. Having changed in a short robe, pulled close, she brewed a pot, leaning against the kitchen counter as she scanned the room. “Morning, sunshine,” she comments quietly, giving the new addition an arched brow. “Help yourself.” Chessie offers, nodding to the pot next to her.
Ben started feeling more comfortable around the apartment that he was intruding in. It had been a few weeks and he finally was deciding he could take most things without asking. The one problem was that Ben wasn’t a morning person. He’d much rather sleep in than have to get up. But for some reason, he was up. It took him at least an hour to wake up, another thirty minutes to be open to conversation, it was a whole process. Add in the fact that he was hungover and his face fucking hurt. Not to mention that getting to sleep was a whole process. Maybe it was all of the guilt that he had to live with. It had to be cold and he had to sleep in just his boxers. However, he always made sure he was decent when he went outside of the room that he and King shared. After he rubbed his eyes, adjusting to some light, he trekked to the kitchen. He looked at Chessie, giving her a hand to at least acknowledge her. “Stop being so loud,” He told her in a whisper. “It’s hurting my head.” Since when did he get hangovers? It was this American shit. He took some coffee before he looked back at her, “Do you think we can get out to the terrace for a quick smoke?” He asked, not knowing the extent of the snow from the blizzard.
wrenabernathy:
Wren Abernathy had not been raised to discuss problems in public. Actually, he had not been raised to discuss problems, period. Many families tried to keep up appearances for the outside, but in the Abernathy family it went well beyond that, to the point where it had been nearly impossible for Wren to even talk to Chessie since she’d moved in with him. Of course, he checked up on her, made sure she ate and spent his evenings sitting in front of her bedroom door. But if he was being honest with himself, he’d been avoiding talking about what had happened as much as she had been avoiding him.
So, when Ben asked about her, all he did was dip his head and then look back up with what he hoped was an encouraging smile. “She’s okay,” he said, his intonation falling flat indicating Wren’s response was anything but an invitation to discuss Chessie. “How are you?” he asked, hoping that would be enough to change the subject. He liked Ben well enough, but he hadn’t exactly sought out the most clandestine table in the entire place to still have to talk about what had happened.
Despite his mother’s efforts to always tell Ben it wasn’t polite to be nosy, it never worked. He was always looking at drama from afar and never really trying to get into it himself. The latter was inevitable with a last name like Vanderbilt as well as having a knack for vices. It wasn’t his fault, it was in his blood. At least that’s what he told himself.
“Good, glad to hear that,” He caught on that this was something Wren wasn’t particularly open about talking about, which was fine. He just liked hearing that she was okay. “I’m fine. I couldn’t be better.” He lied, not wanting to delve into any more details. Ben was a private person, he was taught to swallow his problems and put on a happy face when he was growing up. That was one of the few things that carried over into adulthood for him. “How are you?” He asked, returning the gesture. “Did you have a better New Year’s than the rest of us?”
chessieabernathy:
“S’a bit like the pot calling the kettle black, don’t you think?” She was quick to fire back, a chuckle passing her lips as she spoke. This was nothing short of normal for them, sharing a smoke, poking fun at one another. “Sounds like it made you more of what you are.” Another laugh passes, as she gives him a matter-of-fact look. The mention of beer pulls an eye roll from her, “Christ, B. You and your fucking beer. You’re practically cheating on King with it.” Chessie teased, “I’ve traveled a bit for Fashion Week, but not as much as I’d like. Never picked up a love for beer, though. Gin is still number one in my heart.”
“That’s exactly how I like my coffee.” He retorted. “Shut up,” He chuckled, “I can’t help it, I’m a Vanderbilt.” That was his excuse for everything. Maybe that’s part of the reason why he ran away, he needed to see who he was outside of being a fucked up Vanderbilt. “I’m going to keep talking about it until you have a bottle or two with me. That’s just how it’s going to go,” He said with a shrug. “For the record, though, I’d choose King over beer if I had to choose.” Ben loved his wife more than any drink. “You do know what they say about people who prefer gin, right?”
Wren: It's my Christmas card. I made it online.
Ben: Christmas is celebrated so differently in Europe.
Ben: we should try to give it a shot over here.
155 posts