lied ohne worte • bree

When Santiago offered his co-worker to pick up a painting from an atelier in the middle of Muggle London, the task had seemed easy enough. He would be taking the tube, walking some and then taking the tube back. What would have been difficult for other wizards – or even himself, before he had gotten used to taking muggle public transportation back in Argentina – seemed like the perfect opportunity to make friends with the stern, badly tempered woman who had just been appointed as a consultant in his department. It wasn't something that he would admit easily to himself, how much Santiago sought the approval of people he respected, or even that it sometimes got to a concerning point, but there he was: walking out of the train car as the rain got ridiculously heavier. I should've worn my waterproof cape, he thought, discreetly reaching for his wand that was currently hidden inside his sleeve and pointing it to the heavily wet garment, murmuring an Impervius charm that just didn't seem to take.

Hijo de puta; why the fuck did it have to start raining like this just now; I'm gonna catch some kind of super muggle bug and die, carajo – he cursed internally. It would be impossible to charm his shoes against the rain while keeping his wand hidden, Santiago had realized, and now they were also very close to being soaked through. That was, until he reached the crosswalk, where a good twenty centimeters of rain water had pooled up, making it impossible for anyone who did not have plastic boots on to keep their socks dry. That's it, Santi. You're forbidden from offering to do things for people from now on. No more helping others. You're now going into pajero mode for good. Grade-A asshole it is – he swore some more, swiping a strand of wet hair from his forehead as he tried to look up and see the numbers on the buildings, looking for the one that Mrs. Twatface had given him as the address he was supposed to be picking up the parcel from.

– Ehrm, hello? I'm here to pick up a painting? – He finally told the intercom, very politely. It hadn't taken much for someone to answer once he had rung it, anyway, and the woman's voice on the other side was also extremely agreeable. Definitely not someone he wanted to yell at, or be an asshole to. Well, mierda, Santiago told himself again. So much for being a dick. With a buff, then, he looked around to see if there were any people close enough to see him pull out his wand once more and began trying to get his feet dry.

It was a big, open apartment, the kind of place who seemed to suit better a small start-up than a home. But the rent was cheaper and Bree needed the space. Also, she had done a great job making the industrial-looking room feel cozy. A nice carpet took most of the living room, with a grey couch covered in colorful pillows bringing a pop of color to the room. Just by it, closer to the big window, it was Bree's atelier, which consisted in a stool, three easels - two of them with unfinished paintings -, about 10 canvas leaning against a wall and a wide variety of paint and brushes in the parapet. Next to the canvases, the closet with her finished works. There was an open kitchen, directly to a dining room, that fused with the living room, and the sleeping area was divided from the rest of the space by a curtain, open at that moment.

Bree was sitting in the tall stool looking at a half-made abstract painting in front of her. The contrast between blues and reds on the canvas, with the paint in a slight relief, made for an interesting combination, but in her eyes you could see she wasn't satisfied. Well, she wouldn't have to stare at it for much longer. The bell rang and a male voice said he was there to pick up a painting. I thought it was Mrs. Thomas... Well, maybe she just asked her husband to pick it up. But he had a nice, soothing, quite young voice. Or a son.. She picked up the interphone.

- It's on the third floor. Unfortunately the lift is broken, but it's not such a long way.

Bree reached for a pair of loose ripped jeans Vincent was sleeping over, on the couch, along with a few more scrunched pieces of clothing. He wasn't amused. She put the pants on and took off the over-sized, paint-stained shirt she had on to reveal a white tank top. On her way to the front door, she put on a pair of black flats and took a printed kimono from the hanger next to the entrance. Bree left the door open and went to the closet where she kept her finished paintings, taking a big wrapped one, on top of all the others. As she went back in the direction of the door, she reached for her wand, on top of the dining table. She waved it at the couch and all the clothes went to the laundry basket. Vincent was almost carried along with them. If he wasn't amused before, now he was on the verge of being seriously moody. Bree waved at the curtains that separated her bedroom of the living room/studio and they closed. She put the painting leaning against the living room wall and waved her wand at the moka pot on the coffee table. A smell of coffee invaded the air.

She took a couple of cups from the cabinet between the living room and kitchen and put them over the coffee table. As she was leaning back up, Bree realized her hair was still up in a bun, kept by a brush. She took the brush off to let her hair fall on her shoulders and back, quite wild. Bree heard a light knocking on the door as she ran her hand through her hair, trying to make it look a bit better, to some success. She turned.

- Oh, hi, Mr... - Bree noticed who was in fron of her. - Santiago? Oh my God, is that really you?

In his urge to get his shoes dry, Santiago took longer than would be expected to make his way up the stairs. On top of being extremely uncomfortable, the sloshing sound his trainers made as he climbed the stairs was unnecessarily embarrassing; not to mention the fact that he would be making a mess at the artist's apartment if he walked inside leaving wet footprints everywhere. The deserted hallway of the small apartment building was much more secluded than the muggle street had been, and he was able to contain the situation. Next time I'm taking sodding taxi he groaned, cherry wood wand pointed at his calves, where the dirty rain water had left some ugly colored stains. This time it was his paternal grandmother's voice that popped into his head, oddly enough, making a distinct kind of shame creep up his neck. That's what you get for going near those filthy muggles at all – his gran's pompous tone rang in the back of his mind, and Santiago shook his head, willing it away.

When he finally got around to knocking on the door, his appearance was much more decent than it had been a couple of minutes prior. He'd managed to charm his hair dry, and even though it still felt stuck to the top of his head, it was much more presentable than before. His long black coat was rather wrinkled, though not unattractively so, and the plain cornflower blue button-down he wore underneath looked almost the same as it had when the house elves had delivered it to his flat, straight from the Manor's laundry station. With a last dismayed look at the stained hems of his grey trousers, he watched as the door before him was opened – revealing a young, wild-haired woman he did not expect to see in a million years.

– Bree? – he asked, one eyebrow cocked for a second, before his manners kicked in and the startled expression was replaced by one of polite surprise. – Are you the artist? I offered to come pick Mrs. Twa- Uh. Mrs. Thomas' painting. We work together at the Ministry... – Santiago explained, from his place by the door. Unsure of how to greet his brother's ex girlfriend (if he could even call her that, really, after everything that'd happened and especially the reason why Ignácio had even dated her in the first place...), he settled then for offering his hand for her to shake. – She really spoke wonders of your work. Her niece is at St. Mungos with a bad case of Dragon Pox, though, and there was no one to come get her package, so... uhm. I volunteered. 'S great to see you, though, naturally. – He finished, peeking inside her place now more out of curiosity than anything else.

Bree shook Santiago's hand, as she blushed a bit. It was sure an awkward situation. The last time she had seen any del Arroyo was years ago - before even the war broke stronger and she was forced to run away to Germany, as a matter of fact - and it wasn't in the best context one can imagine. Not only Muggleborns were in danger for obvious reasons, the encounter wasn't long after Bree had found out Ignácio was dating her under his parents instructions, so his precious Pureblood family wouldn't stain their bloody reputation. I mean, if their treasured little prick boy was dating a Muggleborn, sure they could not possibly be Death Eaters, right? To make matters worst, said meeting happened because Bree had gone to Ignácio for a favor - although it wasn't so much a favor as it was something he owed her for the fake relationship he put her on. In any case, the whole thing made for a very confusing situation for Bree in the present moment: the del Arroyo had been completely out of line by using her for their benefit, but Bree's parents were alive because Ignácio fulfilled his promise of protecting them. So, they were even. But it didn't mean she liked them.

Bree recovered herself from the initial confusion while Santiago said a lot of stuff she didn't really paid attention to. But there were some words she recognized there. And she'd heard he worked at the Ministry, so it made sense that he knew Mrs. Thomas. Anyways, Bree was just trying really hard to come up with something that didn't express the deep despair she felt towards his family. After all, if we're being fair not that I am, I hate the posh bastards, Santiago was always the least heinous of them.

- That's a... interesting surprise - Yeah, that didn't sound awkward at all. - Oh, so you know Mrs. Thomas from work! I guess it makes sense, I've heard you work in the Ministry. - good recovery - So, I have her painting here... - Bree touched the canvas leaned against the wall.

She was hoping he wouldn't be able to stay, but she noticed some spots of his clothes were still a bit damp from the heavy rain outside and he peeked inside the apartment, for sure he'd seen the fresh coffee over the table. It would be just rude to not invite him in. Also, as I said before, he was the least abject in the family, after all. In fact, most people would say Santiago was rather nice.

- But why don't you come in? I have some fresh coffee here and we haven't talked in years! - maybe a bit too much? - I mean, if you have the time, of course. - better.

Bree closed the door after Santiago and led the way to the couch. As soon as she sat down, Vincent jumped right beside her, looking at Santiago not so friendly. Bree took the cat out of the couch as he meowed in protest.

- He's a bit possessive, sorry. - she threw a toy that was next to the couch to Vincent, but he was not amused. Bree turned to Santiago again - It is, indeed, good to see you. How have you been?

As a deeply observant person, there was no way Santiago wouldn't have noticed how Bree blushed once he'd offered her his hand and she shook it. There was also no way he wouldn't feel responsible for it, trying to figure if he had been rude, or disrespectful. That was the proper etiquette in that sort of situation, wasn't it? To be polite and hope for the best? – Yeah, I– I've been working at the Ministry for three years now. Foreign relations. – He explained briefly, again trying to be as nice as he could. Bree had not deserved the whole ordeal that his family had put her through, and Santiago couldn't help but feel responsible for her troubles, even though he had not had an active role in the whole story. In fact, he had been the one to tell his brother to end the charade, urging him to consider her feelings and whatnot. Even though they had drifted apart since the war, Santiago and Ignácio had been close before. He would never forget how happy he had been the night Ignácio got sorted into his House, how proud he had been of his little brother and how he'd caught himself remembering that night years later – trying not to think about the whole minute that the Sorting Hat had taken to decide. Perhaps Ignácio had belonged in Slytherin, after all.

– I really don't want to impose, though...? – it was his turn to look a bit put off. She hadn't really sounded like she wanted to invite him in, and he was not about to trouble her further, if he could help it. – Though... well, I'd love to drink something warm? The weather is dreadful out there. – He decided to accept her invitation, wiping his feet on the welcome mat just for good measure.

The flat was very nice – Santiago appreciated the way the floor-plan was laid out, as well as Bree's taste in decor. It looked nothing like his own home, he thought, with the old furniture he had brought over from the Manor – all carved wood and ancient polishing spells – and the antiquated art pieces that had come from the family's collection. Bree's flat looked cozy, like a place one would like to spend time at – as silly as that definition might sound. The town house he had moved to once returning to Britain had none of her studio's charm, and it was definitely too big for one person with too little weekend plans.

– He's brilliant. – he took his seat, smiling at Bree's cat. Santiago had always been a cat person, even though his father wouldn't allow animals in the house. Seeing that the cat had not seemed too interested in the toy Bree had thrown for him, Santiago took out his wand, making it fly around to try and get the cat's attention.

– And... well. I've been alright. Like I said, I've been in the Ministry for about three years now. Most people go in straight after Hogwarts, but I guess I was lucky not to be there at the time, you know. With... everything that happened. – The war was not exactly a light conversation topic, but it just seemed to come up all the time. It was still too fresh in people's minds, or so it seemed. Every single acquaintance had had to deal with it in some form, though Santiago already knew that Bree hadn't been in the country at that point – he'd been the one to make sure her family would have a way to flee the country, after all. – So... well. I had to get some recommendations, take a year of training. Not exactly what I imagine I'd be doing with my life, but here we are. – he smiled again, shrugging lightly. – What about you, though? Have you been here for long?

Bree smiled at Santiago's reaction to Vincent. Maybe she was too quick to jump into her idea that his family would determine his character. Santiago was indeed a good person, at heart, she knew that already. It was just very hard for her to dissociate him from everything that happened before the war... And of course the war came into the conversation, it was pretty much inevitable. But Santiago was sensitive enough to not let the conversation really start on that direction, which was just great - Bree really didn't want to get into the whole "your family save mine but I still kind of hate their guts" thing.

- You were always fitting for the Ministry kind of job. Can't say I'm surprised that you're thriving there.

She poured some coffee in the cups and got one for herself. She took a sip of the coffee.

- I've been here for half a year now. You probably know I was in Germany for a while... -  Bree was decided to ignore the war talk as much as possible. - So, after I came back, I went back to live with my parents. It was good seeing them again, but I am definitely not made for the life in New Castle... Or with them, for that matter.

Bree started to feel more comfortable around Santiago. He seemed genuinely interested in the conversation and she didn't get a lot of company in her apartment. Truth be told, most of her friends had fled London for good or died during the war, except for one or two who remained, but then adult life got in the way and they didn't see one another as often as they would like. On top of that, Bree was relatively fresh back to London, so she still didn't have many new friends. More like none.

She looked back and Vincent was playing with the toy Santiago had made fly around.

- Mate, you just scored one with him. Two more, and you win his heart for good. - Bree said as she turned back to Santiago, smiling. She remembered Santiago had a boyfriend when her and Ignácio were together, and they seemed in it for the long run. She looked at his hands and a nice silver band on his right ring-finger. - By the way, how is Henry?