Happy Christmas?

[Adrianne Finch]

Another year, another Christmas; the St. Mungo's healer was growing ever more aware of her mortality with each passing day and as she finished her day's shift before her holiday break, Adrianne fell into another one of her grumpy moods. Upon her arrival home to Bleak Street, Adrianne was miserable. The only thought which kept her going was seeing her children again for their Christmas school break. Or, more precisely, her beautiful and talented young daughter.
Adrianne stepped through the front door and announced her arrival. Loudly. "Ioan, honey, are you home?" Hearing no reply, as was generally the response, she stepped into the living room and made herself comfortable on the sofa, resting her weary bones. Where on earth was her husband? No doubt he was off with another woman. Well, alright, he hadn't done that in years, to Adrianne's knowledge, but what was to say that wasn't where he was at now? Her temper began to boil. She had no idea if her husband was home or not and she had no interest in finding him. Not when she was feeling like this.

 

[Ioan Finch]

Rushing quickly down Bleak Street, Ioan couldn't believe his terrible luck on this day. Not only had he lost track of the time but he'd even forgotten money. He had just been so focused on getting to his meeting spot that all else had been forgotten and once he'd arrived he had just forgotten to set an alarm charm to remind him to beat Adrianne home. Apparating directly to his home was impossible, so he'd brought himself as close as possible, his long legs doing the rest of the work to bring him to his front door. As he turned the knob to enter, Ioan listened carefully for signs that Adrianne was home. Silence was not her forte so he'd figure he would know.

Reaching his hand to the small table they kept just to the left of the door, Ioan's fingers closed around a small pouch of money. He pulled it off the table, the coins grating against the tabletop. Tossing it to the woman down the steps, Ioan pushed the door open further, his back towards the inside of his home as he spoke to the woman who'd trailed behind him. "These are wonderful" he stated in broken Romanian as he touched his pocket. It had been ages since he'd last spoken his native tongue and the words sounded harsh. "Thank you again" he finished in English before entering his home and shutting the door. Ioan hummed to himself as he began the work of taking off his jacket and hanging it in the closet and taking off his shoes, wondering just how much time he had until his wife would arrive home.

 

[Adrianne Finch]

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The living room clock began to beat out the rhythm of Adrianne's irritated heart. She could hear the sounds of someone arriving home. If it was her beloved daughter, Adrianne would cool her heated temper, but something nagged at her in suggestion that it would be that 'wretched' husband of her's.
Swinging her feet from the sofa, the blonde stood and snatched up the candle snuffer from the mantelpiece. She gripped it behind her back and slowly approached the doorway. Her step was silent and upon her arrival she discovered her husband.
"And where have you been?" Adrianne inquired, more than aware that the children would be returning home any minute, annoyed that Ioan may have missed their arrival. Her grasp on the snuffer tightened. If he'd been up to his old tricks, she would certainly teach him a lesson.

 

[Ioan Finch]

Later, Ioan would wonder how Adrianne had managed to remain so silent, her footsteps seemingly missing every single creaky floorboard. It was a fantastic feat considering that nearly every floorboard in their home groaned and moaned on a normal day. The house had always seemed to favor Adrianne. Ioan was convinced of this fact. When she spoke, Ioan turned around quickly, his heart beating out of his chest. “Merlin…” he breathed out, straightening to look at his wife. What she lacked in height and build she made up for in tone and demeanor. Her arms were behind her back, clutching…something. Ioan tried to peer over her shoulders but could see nothing there. His eyes narrowed, wondering where this line of questioning was going. “Out” he responded curtly. “Have the children arrived yet?” he asked as he took a step towards her, the floorboard creaking under his foot, hoping that she wasn’t going to make this into a Thing like she so often did. Perhaps speaking about the children would help re-direct her attention away from himself and what he’d been doing.