[social club] our lovers quarrel, hurts more than i can say

The West End was exclusive and wealthy. The elegant row houses there commanded millions of pounds in muggle currency to own. One of these row houses, on a quiet corner had been the home of an exclusive wizarding social club for centuries though. It's dozen of rooms turned into intimate parlors, bars, and dance floors for the wealthy, established, and prominent of British society. Originally the decadent 19th century mansion hosted a social club for the elite young people of society where they could mingle, meet, dine, and run their realms. Over the years the purpose of the social club became more and more abstract and with the fall of The Dark Lord the once exclusvie club was open to anyone that could afford the large membership fee. Now a large Gringotts account and a wand got you and your closest friends in the doors. While many still used the club for it's intended purpose and met here with friends under normal circumstances the only time the most elite of members joined the fun was for their infamous and raucous parties.

The four story home was host to the best parties in Europe and getting in was harder than passing any NEWT exam. It made sense though. The luxurious town home was host to a dozen parlors offering various delights within their mahogany paneled walls. Behind plush tapestries lay a dozen delights from an intimate library with plenty of dark corners, a cozy room full of elegant plush sofas and chairs for comfortable socializing, a dining room set with dozens of intimate tables serving gold star dining, a room magically expanded to hold a dance floor and modern DJ, and half a dozen other over the top possibilities.


On the fourth floor was the most exclusive of the rooms, the VIP room, reserved for original members and guests. With the membership most recently opened to mud bloods it became essential to provide a place for those of higher caliber to meet. Thus the original members floor was created. A main parlor with bar served as the main room of the floor. Trendy, sultry music pulsed through the dimly lit room where antique furniture was decorated with the most important young people in Europe dressed in couture and sipping the most expensive bottles in the house. Tonight was a special night for the club. Not only was it the 200th anniversary, it was one of the only nights the most elusive of the clubs members joined the fun.

Among the glitz and glamour of the VIP room the queen of the floor sat on a gilded stool holding court. It took a personal invitation to get her in the door but despite some hesitation Farren had decided to attend the party under the condition that there were no photographers allowed past the lobby. It was a good excuse to show that she and her family were not as stuffy and bloodist as the world thought and though she usually preferred to party in Paris all of Paris had come to London for the party. After months, years even of depression, suffering from the war and the subsequent consequences of it the former darling of London was slowly starting to regain her place in society. Of course it helped that she was one of the richest women in the country but it seemed that slowly but surely her efforts to remold her image after so much bad press were working.

Never one to miss an opportunity to make a fashion statement Farren had chosen an especially daring couture dress. Her intricate black and gold accessories were simple but her sky high heels made an art deco statement to match her elegant beaded bag. Her long brunette locks were straight and parted unevenly giving her hair a slightly sultry, unkempt look. After months of looking depressed and nearly emaciated she had started to fill out and regain her natural glow. Her honey tinged porcelain skin was flawless and her make up, carefully applied, accentuated her blue eyes, full lips, and cheek bones. There was no doubt that she was physically flawless from the presentation she put on for the party.

Perched on the edge of her stool her long legs crossed enticingly to show off their long, perfect form she was surrounded by peers. Flanked by handsome boys in designer tuxes there was a coffee table full of top shelf bottles before her along with golden plates holding the finest designer drugs any party goer could ask for. The group was laughing and chatting animatedly. Though there were a couple women sitting with them most just fluttered up to the group to talk to one of the boys and flutter away again. It was obvious that this circle was here for Farren's entertainment and anyone interested in diverting the attention from her was not welcome.

"Well Mr. Mason it's a wonder you ever got back from Italy," she trilled reaching for the champagne flute offered to her by one of the men over her shoulder. The handsome man she was talking to smiled and laughed commenting on the new found freedoms in a Voldemort free world. Farren smiled her usual coy grin and shrugged him off with a comment about how she felt no restrictions as long as she could have her beloved champagne. The group laughed and the Mr. Mason in question agreed with her and led the group in a toast. Around the room little pockets of people drank, laughed, and indulged in the flickering candle and fire light. Below them the other rooms raged with their various diversions and somewhere in the house a grandfather clock struck midnight and no one cared. 

Though she was enjoying herself Farren had to remind herself that this party had three purposes. Exposure, she'd have to pull herself away from the comfort of the VIP section and go mingle with the new money and mud bloods at some point. Then there was the surveying, who was here. Whom were they with, what were they talking about? If she was going to be the queen of society she needed to keep tabs on them all, especially the ones she didn't know well. New money was repulsive and crass but with the muggle loving government they had now it was necessary. Her third reason was completely speculative but probably her most motivating factor.

From her seat at the back center of the room she had a decent view of the room so she could scout for her third reason. The rumors were frequent enough to probably be true. It had been months since she'd seen him and she wondered if he'd even recognize her here. Last she'd seen him she was a grief stricken shell of her normal self. It was forever ago it seemed now and no matter how long he stayed away she still wasn't sure why he left and why he never wrote. She'd gone to Paris multiple times since he left and while here chose her party locations based on where she thought he may be but it was futile, it had been at least eight months since she'd seen him and it was apparent he wanted to stay hidden.

The months he'd spent with her at their family home after her mother's death and subsequent public death announcement and burial months later had solidified in Farren's mind and heart that he was her dearest companion and one of the few people she actually trusted in the world. He listened to her, he held her when she hurt, he was patient and supportive, he made her laugh, and late at night when the demons that haunted her came to life he cradled her and protected her from the horrors in her dreams. His departure had in its own way broken another piece of her but she'd healed enough to weather the storm fairly easily. Now it just confused her. What was more confusing was that for two weeks she'd heard rumor after rumor of his return to London and yet he hadn't called on her and the guest apartment he had inhabited at Dalemain was untouched.

One of the men in a chair beside her reached out and lay a hand on her leg and she remembered that she was at a party where she was supposed to be social, not in her head. Sighing she took a long swig of her champagne. She was already fairly intoxicated but she was a chronic drunk and thus capable of handling herself, so far. They all spoke about the new monuments to war victims going up around Wizarding villages and a few of the men started working on the pile of designer drugs on the table. Farren's attention drifted from the group to the crowd around them and just as it'd nearly slipped her mind she saw an unmistakable clump of hair in the crowd. Immediately her pulse quickened. He was in the crowd near the main door, it had to be him.

Struggling to see more than a swath of hair she stood up and craned her neck to see more of him but his back was to her. One of the girls in her group glanced in the same direction and then back at Farren shoving a shot into her hand and pulling at her arm to sit down again. Shaking the girl off Farren threw back the shot, her eyes still glued to the dark, wavy hair she was sure was him. He was moving in the crowd, across the front of the room, towards the side corridor. She followed him with her eyes and then, for a split second he glanced over his shoulder at something and she saw him. Her heart stopped and the shot glass in her hand clamored to the floor. Before anyone in her group could say anything she was gone. Her little bag pressed to her chest for safety she pushed through the crowd towards the side corridor he'd disappeared to.

By the time she got to the doorway she'd lost sight of him but she hastily pushed away the curtain and click clacked into the long, dark hall. Halfway down was a man was walking towards one of the smaller private parlors. His swagger was painfully familiar and for some reason she felt overwhelmingly sad. He was back. He was at a party he surely knew she would be at and he hadn't so much as written to her. For a moment she debated if she should bother at all but a second later she knew she had to stop him. Watching him retreat away from her, again, she knew now was no time for pride. Taking a couple steps into the hall she glances around at the people loitering near the entrance that seemed to mostly be ignoring here. "Terr!" she called stopping in her tracks her heart hammering in her chest.

“Well if I was capable of actually wanting to be monogamous for more than a couple of minutes, we might have lasted.” He spoke over the rim of the glass in his hand before he looked over at Dorian, who in the group of men was the closest and the only one speaking. How the talk had gotten on his sudden return home and equally sudden ending relationship?  He knew questions would arise, that people might be curious. “Please most women are only faithful because they have to be. Social graces don’t allow some to indulge in a night with a man like me, so they have no choice but to be good.” He had more than a few examples of this, some in which involved him directly. Taking a sip from his glass he allowed himself a moment to simply look around. There were people doing various things and it seemed that even in this room full of people he was alone.

Sure he knew some of the party-goers but he was in his own bubble with his friends as they all seemed to be. This routine grew old after awhile. Pretending to want to be in the company of someone he truly didn’t wish to be all for the cover of papers. The parties where he’d stand around listening to some holier than thou prick tell him of his meaningless vacation. A vacation which Terrence knew he lied about getting laid, and probably spent the days in his room like the coward he truly was. Oh he loathed that guy, he wanted to punch him in the face, but couldn’t because social graces wouldn’t allow him to. It was getting old, and things had changed with the outcome of the war. A lot had changed. He was pulled from his thoughts by a tap on his shoulder as more drinks were sat on the table. “Be right back guys.” He stood and left without a word of protest or acknowledgment.

He needed to be alone, there was a lot on his mind and he just needed a moment alone. As he walked through the crowd he ran a hand through his hair. He was back in London, at a party and all he wanted was to be home. But as he promised his mother he would go, only because since he’d come home he had not been out of his room. This apparently was unheard of in human history because his mother fussed about his falling ill. So to ease her worries he came, but now he wished he’d opted for the smaller gathering his mother had offered. Glancing back over his shoulder he to one last look at his friends. They seemed ok now occupied by a few girls; they would be just fine without him. Sliding his hands into his pockets he slipped into the small hall.

He nodded politely to those he passed on his way to his private parlor. His feet came to a stop as her voice touched his ears. There he stood in a hall with his back to her, body tense. He turned to look and gave her a slight smile. Slowly he headed to her, lifting his index finger to run along his eyebrow as he did so. “Well….well..well don’t we look absolutely ravishing tonight.” Farren. There was nothing more or less to say on the matter. His eyes took her e=in for a moment before his hand rose to run down his vest to his pocket watch which he pulled to look at the time. He was at a loss of words, he knew he had been wrong in his haste departure but it was needed. He needed to get away from her, just as he had Jessica.

“I didn’t know you were here…” Only a half truth, he knew the likely hood of her being there was big. He knew he might run into her, but he didn’t know how she would be about how he’d just left. His eyes traveled the length of her body once more as he ran a hand through his hair slowly. “But you do look stunning…so where is the man on your arm...” As he asked his blue eyes rose as if by saying so her date might show himself. “I know you can’t be alone dressed like that…unless you were hoping to run into someone tonight?” He shifted to lean lazily against the wall beside her keeping just a bit of distance between them. “I’m sorry…” his voice was soft as he uttered the unfamiliar words. He only hoped that his sorry would make things somewhat better…hopefully.

He stopped and turned and the hammering in Farren's chest didn't stop, it got louder. Suddenly, with his eyes locked on her she wasn't the commanding queen bee she had been two minutes ago. She was fourteen again looking up at her older, wiser, handsome cousin that was always doing something more interesting and more adult than her. For a moment she felt uncomfortable in the tight, revealing dress, suddenly self conscious about everything from her angular features to her lack of womanly curves. Just like when she was a kid around him she felt like he'd caught her trying to be an adult when she wasn't.

The feeling lasted but a second and then she realized that this was Terrence and no one that was still in her life knew her better. If she faltered he would know, she had to remember who she was and more importantly, who he was. His comment made her smile and as he walked towards her she took a couple steps towards him as well just to accentuate the curve of her hips and the long, perfect legs she had. A little smirk crossed her features as his eyes took her in from head to toe. She had no idea what she was supposed to feel but the way he looked at her quickly restored her faltering confidence. "It's couture....a friend picked it for me," she said her eyebrow arching slightly hoping that the vague implication would get his mind reeling.

When he reached her she stared at him for a moment taking his familiar, handsome features thoughtfully. Her heart was still racing and she figured there would be no stopping it so long as he was within arms reach. There was just too much unresolved to feel settled around him now. Or was it that despite all that she was elated to see him? Whatever it was she ignored it as best she could and it became a lot easier when he continued addressing her. She couldn't help rolling her eyes when he said he didn't know she'd be here, that was a load of bollocks. All of Europe was at this party. So he was avoiding her. The reports of him being home for weeks must be true. Her chest was getting hot, he was upsetting her already and he'd literally just walked back into her life.

"I left my loyal subjects in the VIP room, thank you," she said curtly when he inquired about her date. It was then she realized her champagne flute was still in her hand. Narrowing her eyes at him she knocked the glass back and sat the glass on the edge of the wall sconce beside her holding a flickering candle. "Oh please, you know I don't dress -for- people. I dress for Farren Abercrombie, the brand," she said with a tight lipped smile. All of this felt very awkward, tense, maybe forced, she wasn't sure what was happening but her heart was hammering and her temperature was rising and she was growing frustrated with him by the second.

Glancing at him anxiously she opened her mouth to speak but faltered. Looking away from him she ran her fingers through her hair. "You know, since I'm so changed now...open minded and whatever. Of course I'll come to a party that allows new money mudbloods in," she grimmaced and leaned back against the cool wood paneled wall ignoring him as he moved closer to lean against the wall.  A waiter with a tray full of red shots walked by and Ren sprang forward and grabbed two shots so quickly he didn't even have to stop moving. Her back against the wall, not even looking at Terrence she downed the first shot and set the glass on the sconce next to her champagne flute. It wasn't until he apologized that she slowly turned her head to look at him.

Her eyes locked on his for a moment, her face stony as she tried to decipher what exactly was happening here. It had all happened so fast from staring down each other in a hallway for the first time in 8 months to an apology in three minutes. "Terrence..." she said softly furrowing her brow as suddenly the heat in her skin and the hammering in her chest slowed. She looked down at the other shot in her hand and then back up at him.     Suddenly, as it always was, her mind was switched off from her stream of regular consciousness and consumed with the memories. Typically she filled herself with as many mood and mind altering drugs to stop these things from happening. Tonight with all the press and people she'd taken it easy and only downed a few things before she left the house. She wasn't expecting or prepared for this. Turning away from him she stared, scowling at the wall across the hall from them as the images tumbled into her minds eye like water flowing past a burst dam.

The dark bedroom was cold, so cold that despite the fact that it was summer she was shivering. The canopy bed was shrouded in it's usual lace drapes but heavy black curtains had been drawn over the usually sunny windows. A man, her father, sat on the edge of the bed slouched over something in the center of the bed sobbing softly. She was exhausted and terrified but she approached him. Her hand was on his shoulder, she was saying his name, she looked down at his back refusing to look over his shoulder at the figure laying in the bed. She was crying silently shaking his shoulder harder, almost yelling his name. He deftly coiled away from her grasp. Farren was shaking but she reached forward and forced his shoulders around so he was at least half looking at her. "Father!" she bellowed as white hot tears stung at her cheeks raw from a week of crying. "It's been a week...we have to....The Capps even said...it's been a week we HAVE to bury her!" The man bellowed something incomprehensible and tried to push her away. Farren held onto his suit jacket and gave him a good shake pleading with him to hear reason. He'd ignored the Capps who prepared the body, he'd ignored her Grandmother and Grandfather, he'd ignored his brother and his father and now he was ignoring his daughter. They argued in a frantic whisper as if raised voices would wake her from a deep sleep but it wouldn't. She was dead and they both knew it and he refused to accept it. She begged and pleaded trying to take her father in her arms to comfort him and finally he reached up and grabbed her shoulders staring up into her face with a look of such maddened grief it scared her. "How can we bury her? How can we leave her alone in the dark when that's when she's in so much pain. The terrors come at night, she can't be put in the dark, she'll never find peace!" Her father bellowed before breaking down into a sob and retreating to a crumpled pile on the bed beside his dead wife.

The excruciating pain of the situation was breaking her and she felt her legs giving way but before she could fall to the floor something warm and strong engulfed her and her tiny, broken body was craddled and amidst a stream of tears she saw the dark of her mother's room growing smaller in the distance. She felt herself being lowered into a warm, soft place. The person saving her was climbing onto the bed with her, not letting her out of his hold. Sobbing she reached for the soft, plush duvet and pulled it to her as she felt the strong savior encapsulate her body with his. He was making soothing cooing noises and stroking her in an attempt to soothe her. "He won't let us bury her. How can this ever end if he won't even let us bury her? She was sobbing. The gentle man holding her leaned closer carefully wiping her tear soaked hair away from her cheeks and saying something softly to her trying to calm her. It was Terrence, she could make him out through the tears now, though she knew it was him all along. Taking his hand she squeezed in tight as she tried to calm her sobs. He pulled her into his body holding her tightly gently shhshhing her and apologizing. "I'm sorry Farren, I'm sorry....we will make it better I promise...I'm sorry....

Swallowing a lump in her throat Farren blinked the memory fading out to the moment, his current apology lingering in the air over them. Her expression was stone cold and she was still leaning back against the wall, shot in hand as if she was the coolest woman in all of London. Furrowing her brow she looked over at him and shook her head disapprovingly. Her eyes were trained on his for only a moment longer before she stood up and smoothed her dress.

Stepping away from the wall she reached up and tousled her hair casually and glanced at the shot in her hand. A group of people were walking down the hall in the direction of the VIP room the men in the group eyed her, their eyes soaking her in from head to toe as they offered her caddish grins and nodded towards the VIP room. She offered them a coy sideways glance only to annoy Terrence. Looking back at him she arched her eyebrow and held out the shot for him to take. "You shouldn't have left," she purred in a tone that made it clear she wasn't talking just about abandoning her in an emotional time of need. She was quickly getting back on top and despite the traumas of the memories of the past two years she'd made huge progress since he disappeared and she wasn't going to let him live down that while he was off screwing all of Paris the broken little girl he'd once known was all grown up and religiously tried to cover her bruises and scars with a thick layer of glamour, confidence, and sexuality he'd missed before.

“A friend…” His brow arched as he eyed her as if waiting for her to say more on the matter. His mind ran through who she may have been speaking of, and why she had not said their name. Maybe the friend was a guy and she didn’t want to reveal this to him. “Well, tell him I said he has excellent taste.” From the look of the dress it was clear that a man had to have picked it out. Women had good taste but he had found were sometimes less inclined to help another woman look sexy. Cute they could do, but sexy wasn’t something usually shared free between women.

He looked faintly amused as she addressed him about her date. It was cute to see her upset even by the slightest of things. He knew he had a way of pissing her off and he enjoyed doing so more than he cared to admit half the time. “And a brand it is, I’m sure you have a flock of groupies somewhere close waiting for the chance to sing mountains of praise.” His hand moved lazily causing his pocket watch to swing within his grasp. His eyes swept the hall slowly before coming back to rest on her as she spoke again causing him to laugh softly. Farren a changed woman was amusing no matter the truth to the words.

“And here I thought you were incapable of such a thing…but conformity is always good in light of past events. The public eye is on you, dear cousin. It would be a shame for it to shine in a disapproving way…” There was a hidden meaning to his words as his voice dropped. He knew a few ways that could happen, oh and did he like the ideas. But the choices she had to make were harder without his influencing.

Nearly as soon as the words had left his lips to settle in the silence around them, he regretted them. I’m sorry. Was he stupid, sorry didn’t fix things? Sorry made the face that you messed up more apparent. Sorry brought about tempers and harsh words. Sorry was not a word that was supposed to be in his vocabulary. As she said his name he knew that saying them had been a mistake. Maybe he had said them because had had not known what else there was to say. He had left unexpected on the journey to save himself. Searching for who he was supposed to be rather than who he was told he had to be. It was hard to know when and where the road ended, but he knew it had to.

She looked lost in thought before she was shaking her head at him. The way she did it made him feel like a small boy again who’d done something to upset his mother. He watched as the group walked by following her gaze in the process. His gaze didn’t falter until her voice touched his ears. His hand rose to allow long fingers to wrap around the glass before taking the shot. His glass soon joined hers as it was discarded. “So I keep hearing…was there a major event that would have been far better in my company?” His lips twitched slightly as he threatened a smile before he took a deep breath. “But really, had a stayed you wouldn’t have had the time to miss me.”

With that he pushed off the wall and turned to take a few steps before entering into his private parlor.  Walking over to the bar he began to make himself a drink. He didn’t turn to see if she had followed him, the chances she had were great. She had after all followed him to the hallway to begin with hadn’t she? If she wanted to test his well and play games she could. He was used to Farren, though he had not been accustomed to her for some time. He remembered her like a well written book.  Lifting his glass to his lips he sipped the liquid before going to sit lazily on the couch.

His answer didn't surprise her. Evasive, cocky, and unapologetic. It was what she'd come to expect from him after knowing him her whole life. Sure it annoyed her but it also intrigued her. Maybe because it was so similar to herself in some ways it made it more frustrating to deal with. He was much like their family in that way, something that was always a problem for the Abercrombies: dealing with eachother.

The way he moved away from her, casually dismissing her, taking control, making her follow him - again annoyed her even more. He disappeared into a nearby parlor and it seemed that the rumor that he held an exclusive, private parlor at the club was true. That annoyed her even more. He knew well enough if he walked away that she would follow him, if nothing else than to start a fight. He also knew that now that she'd seen him here she likely was going to either spend the night tailing him or spend the night throwing her many admirers in his face. Depending on his mood either one could be extremely annoying. What was worse that if she chose to snub him now and return to her party he could just as easily show up at her home uninvited whenever he wanted but she may not be able to find him so easily outside of the club. If he wasn't staying at his parents house she would have a hard time of that.

So almost obediently Farren followed him into his parlor and made herself at home. If he was going to control this situation she was going to at least charge at it with her fangs bared.  Instead of joining him on -his- couch she sat herself in a brocade wing back chair caddy corner to the sofa around a ridiculously ornate coffee table. Now she hated this table because it seemed to be somehow mocking his authority over her behavior. Casually draping one long, bare leg over the other she looked at him expectantly and cleared her throat, "Whiskey please," she said as if it was obvious he should be offering her a drink. Her perfectly and intensely shaped brows shot him a warning look at her suggestion but after her point was made she settled back into the chair and sighed as if she was relaxed or even bored by all of this.

Ruminating on the question she'd posed in the hall she drummed her slender fingers on the arm of the chair. She'd had her nails filed into gentle points like little dulled talons and they were painted dark red to great effect with her dramatic look of the evening.  "Yes, you missed quite a lot," she lied just because she couldn't admit otherwise. Now she had to give him an answer. She began to process through all that had happened after the incredibly staged funeral of for her mother in October of last year. For two months after that she'd hardly left the house apart from mandatory public appearances. "Well there were a great many lavish parties," she said her mind drifting to boring but overdone fundraisers for muggle awareness and regrowing limbs for Hogwarts veterans and other stupid shit she didn't care about. Then it occured to her that she should get her own drink. Afterall he did like her dress. Not that she cared what her cousin, distant cousin, thought of her dress but...she liked compliments. Besides he'd hardly had time to react to her request so she might as well.

Giving him a quick scowl she got up, "I'll get my own beverage if you're going to be so....impolite," she said in a tone that was either triumphant or scolding but impossible to tell which. Rising in her typical elegant fashion she slinked to the bar, her body moving in a way that made it seem like she was somehow preparing to leap onto her prey and slink down a runway simultaneously. For a moment, her back to him, a warning went off in her mind. This was a dangerous game. He was her relative and not a very good one at that. His Grandfather had been disowned over politics decades ago and while his parents always wanted back in the good graces of the family and he had grown up with her as much as any of her other friends and Bennett cousins had this was pointless and dare she say it a little sick. Terrence had always been that older handsome boy next door to her. He was just by chance a relation.

When they were little their mother's had made a game of encouraging them to be close for the sake of cuteness. But as they aged and their relationship did little to change the family just turned their heads. It was natural for young people to be flirtacious and curious so what  was the harm in a boy and girl holding hands and playing games? When her mother died everyone was too worried about Farren and her father mentally surviving the war and the death to pay much attention to what the teenage girl and her twenty something cousin were up to as long as she was in fact surviving. Everyone was glad Terrence was there with her. Who else could deal with her nightmares that woke her and the whole house? Who else could manage her when she'd drunk herself into a stupor? Dealing with the whole situation was a nightmare and having someone trustworthy around to calm and contain the heir was welcomed. In those days it didn't cross Farren's mind that what they did was perhaps not exactly appropriate given that he was supposed to have a girl friend and maybe due to the fact that they were related. Life was in turmoil so what if falling asleep in his arms kept her terrors away? So what if the way he gently kissed her tear stained cheeks was soothing? Only now, here, when she suddenly was not distraught and instinctively resorted to more standard ways of getting his attention did it dawn on her that this may not be normal.


"Oh and I was very, very, very ill. It was quite serious. Our new family mediwizard, you probably know him, he was in our house, maybe your year...." she rambled on trying to wind him up a bit as she poked around the bar for her liquors of choice, "Anyways he had to come to Dalemain in the middle of the night and save me or else I would have died," she said seriously as if he should be very worried and upset he missed the event. Sure all of that was true but she wasn't about to tell him it was because she'd overdosed on recreational and medical potions and magical drugs. Finding her liquors of choice she pulled them to the top of the bar and began mixing her own drink rather skillfully. Muddling an her in the drink she dropped down, crouching on her feet in front of the bar well aware that her shape was being highlighted and reached for a glass in the back of the shelf before slowly unfolding her long legs and leaning forward against the bar to pour her drink. All the while she was talking, "There was Paris fashion week. I went of course. It was amazing, even more so than before the war, I think everyone really went all out. So many lovely people," she prattled on happily not mentioning that her eyes had been peeled for him the entire time she was there.

Drink in hand she sauntered back to her chair and sank happily into it taking a sip of her drink, watching him over the rim. She licked the sweet nectar off her lips before she leaned forward towards him offering him a demure little smile. "Oh," she added almost as a second thought. The thing had just occured to her and she didn't like where it was coming from. The little warning in her head about this scenario went off but it was too sweet to not throw at him. "There is one other big thing...." she said taking a slow sip from her glass. She glanced down at her glass giving the ice in it a little shake, "Memphis came back."

It was cute, her need to be defiant even now when he clearly had the upper hand. His cool blue gaze washed over taking a moment to linger on her exposed leg. She was good he had to admit, she knew how to sell her sex appeal. He doubted even a natural born monk wouldn’t have snuck a peek at those long flawless legs of hers. She knew from many drunken talks that he was in fact a leg man. So he knew he display was probably a teasing tactic, and so he sat sipping from his glass. Blatantly ignoring her drink comment he shifted as if to rise to rest his glass on the rather large table in front of him, before removing his vest to lay next to his jacket that had been discarded in the room some time ago. There he sat looking as dapper as ever, running his thumbs along his suspenders out of habit as he watched her as she rose to make her own drink.

He smiled despite himself as he watched her walk towards the bar. It seemed the Farren he knew had grown into a woman who was aware that she had something that men wanted and she displayed it in a manner that intrigued him. Though he knew drinking in her form was bad on some level, he did it anyway. They were related, yes but distantly so giving him the reprieve to look as much as he pleased. After all it had seemed that their mothers had wanted the two to be close, though he doubted inappropriate actions had not been in their initial plan. “Me impolite, that’s unheard of, we both know I can be more than polite if given the chance.” He waved his hand towards the door before speaking again. “As lavish as the one we’re attending now, if so I’m happy I was away. I’m sure the elves could throw a better attended party..”

Though he was a crazed purist as most, he didn’t like to mix company with spoiled blood unless it was necessary. Yes, he had a few friends whose bloodline was questionable but it wasn’t as if he was inviting them into his home for dinner. His eyes snapped to her as she spoke of being ill and for a fleeting moment he felt guilty. Almost as if somehow he had failed her by not being there. But he knew that being there would have been bad for her, he would have been an excuse simply not to try and get better. It was no excuse for his absence but it was a valid reason as to why he had not been there. Thoughtfully, seeing her in a state that was less of who he was used to, was something he would have rather not have done. He’d seen her at her worse and even in those times he had wished that the pain she had felt had vanished so she could have a sense of normality.

“I wasn’t aware that you were ill my mother never mentioned to me when we spoke…” Well that was a lie, she had hinted to Farren’s shattered state vaguely. He had chosen to stay away even when his mother had spoke of it being best that he come home. His brows came together as she spoke of a late night visit more at the mention at her near death but partly because of the male visitor. There was no need for him to feel a sense of possession of her. That was unacceptable, but her being his family made him feeling his protective nature over her was simply because of that fact alone. His eyes grazed over her body and he nearly rose from his seat to walk over to her. He had played this game of cat and mouse enough to know that this game was dangerous. This game would lead to possible regret in the morning. “Well apparently he knew exactly what you needed a dose of to be here tonight, it would seem.”

The agitation was clear in his voice as he spoke, even as he drank in her from. Shifting to reach for his drink he took a sip before chuckling softly. “I know I saw you there. Shame that you didn’t see me though isn’t it..” His voice sounded slightly amused as he spoke. “You know why I was in attendance, beautiful women in on spot full of energy and excitement…” He leaned back in his seat not caring to go into farther detail. As he recalled he’d got a little more than acquainted with a few women that night two being models. His gaze didn’t move to her as she returned to her seat instead it rested on a picture in the far corner. “Otherwise those are rather boring if you ask me..” And then she said it, so casually that it took his brain a moment to process what had been released into the air.

Almost instantly his disposition changed from laidback to annoyed and it was clear in his expression as he looked at her. Memphis came back. His jaw clenched a he moved to rest his arm on the back of the couch. “Is that so?”  He twirled his glass in his hand as he spoke running his tongue over his teeth slowly before full lips were pursed as if he was considering this news. “Well it must have been nice for the lost boy to find his way home, was it not? We all need someone to follow us around like a lost puppy…but then again he followed you like a dog in heat.” Taking a sip from his drink he eyed her from a long moment. “Maybe you finally allowed him a taste, since his return was something big as you claim.”

Thoughts of her and Memphis rolling around in her bed were as unpleasant as the thought of him never having sex again. “Oh…” He sounded as if he had a bright idea as he rose his glass in the air slightly. “We should double date, Jessica would enjoy London and it would be a chance for me to chance up with him. Since he’s back...” He eyed her before standing to walk over to the bar to top off his drink. “How is he these days, still following you like a dog in heat?” He spun slowly to look at her as he pressed his glass to his lips not bothering to take a sip. “And here I thought you had far better taste in men…but we can’t all be uncompromising…though he would be good for your good girl image..”

He paused and tilted his head slightly finally taking a drink from his glass. “I wonder have you finally allowed him a taste or is he still sniffing the main dish…” His brow arched. “because we all know how much of a tease you can be dear cousin.” He knew he was entering dangerous waters and didn’t care o hear her answer. But a woman of Farren’s caliber wanted anything but a scandal associated with her name. The thought of doing something as wretched he was implying in most cases would get a woman upset enough to lose her cool. He watched Farren wondering how much she had actually changed in his absence. “But that’s not any of my business now is it?” Walking back over to the couch he sat, resting his feet on the table in front of him seeming relaxed despite his annoyance of her declaration.

It was difficult to keep a straight face when he so suddenly looked completely annoyed by what she'd said. His cool, smarmy, upper handed act had been shattered by three simple words. She wanted to laugh at him and sit there haughtily looking over at him watching him lose this game. But she didn't. She didn't make any movement or expression at all. She was cool and composed, quietly sipping her drink as if she had said the weather was going to change or some mundane fact.  "Yes it is so," she said casually as she gently shook the ice around in her glass. Her blue eyes slid to him when he called him a lost boy as it was an extremely accurate statment but she wasn't going to give him that little victory and so she just shrugged and gave a little smile at the thought of Memphis and said, "I have seen him," and glanced over Terrence like she wasn't sure he could be trusted with more information. She finished off her drink and glanced at the bar debating fixing another.

She looked back at him when he suggested a double date and was amused that he just assumed she was dating Memphis. Of course he would mention Jessica...his on again off again something. Seemed like poor Jessica was only employed when he wanted her around to kill time or make someone jealous. When he'd stayed with them after the war she barely heard two peeps about the girl. Now they should double date she laughed gently and shook her head. "I don't think that's a good idea," she said as he walked past her to the bar. "Remember, I have a brand to sell now, for all our sakes as Grandfather says.  I'm supposed to be out in public with impressive people that will bolster the family image. While you naturally belong in my life and Memphis is a sign of my nostalgic love for simpler times, not to mention a former Hogwarts Tri-Wizard Champion, I'm afraid someone like Jessica wouldn't fit in the equation. I think she's just an average middle class pureblood is she not? " She was completely talking our her arse but she just wanted to annoy him by rejecting his idea and simultaneously calling Jessica lesser than.

Annoyed that he didn't ask her if she wanted a drink she set her glass on the table loudly and turned to look at the bar holding out her hand to silently summon the bottle of her favorite vodka.  Pouring it lazily over her remaining ice she didn't care that some splashed on the pompous table.  "He's fine, getting back to normal really," she said simply watching him beside her out of the corner of her eye. Of course she had no idea what Memphis was doing. She'd not seen him since he left her house in shame but that didn't matter.  "Good girl image?" she asked before laughing softly at him. "Which part of my recent past did you forget? The bit where I poisoned a girl my 6th year, became the only girl at Hogwarts to walk in a Paris fashion show, left school to be with Declan and train to fight with my mother, broke up with Declan and went on a bender in public, or that bit where my mother was a violent DE, how about the family side business of dismantling and selling corpses, oh or falsifying my mother's death? Which one of those things make for a good girl image?" Chortling to herself she shook her head, "I daresay the good girl ship sailed some years ago and that's fine. I prefer the confident, self aware, cunning label."

Sitting back in the chair she sipped slowly on the smooth vodka in her glass listening to him whine about Memphis. Scoffing she rolled her eyes, "Don't be vulgar you cad," she said at his mention of 'the main course'. Sipping her drink she completely ignored him as he returned at sat down. Of course he didn't want to know the truth, he'd hate it. So she just let them sit in silence for a moment, letting him really think about what he'd asked and the answer he wanted to hear. After a moment she slid to the edge of the chair, sitting her glass on the table and looked square at him.

"No..." she said silkily, "It's not your business." Cocking her head to the side slightly she considered him. He knew her very well but as far as he knew Declan had been her only partner and she preferred that that was the general opinion about her love life. She held his gaze for a moment and she could feel her mind slipping to that dark place it did when she was idle too long. Alcohol exasperated the graphic memories but was essential for clearing her mind at the same time. Without the potions it was difficult to focus on the present when she was with anyone with ties to the past. So to distract herself she stood up, glass in hand, looking down at him.  "Some privileges are reserved for those that are my intended," she arched her eyebrow and added cooly, "I think you are familiar with that little rule."

To stave off unwanted memories she walked over to the bar and aimlessly slung a couple of lime slices into her glass and began swishing them around in the vodka rather furiously with a stirrer. She wasn't sure what happened next. What was she supposed to talk to him about? Did she even want to talk to him? Usually things were so easy between them but all she felt now was tension. There was a lot of issues between them stemming greatly from his run away and her uncertainty about where to draw the line in the sand regarding their relationship. How close was too close? They clearly were having a pecking contest over jealousy but why? What they had was friendly and easy and casual. There was no danger because they were on the same team fighting the same fight and it was in their best interest to keep secrets and protect eachother. Yet this felt almost hostile.

Drink in hand she began walking in a slow circle around the sofa and chairs in the center of the room trying to distract herself. "Why are you back?" she asked watching him as she circled. "When did you come back and why didn't you tell us? Does Spencer know you're back?" she was of course referring to her Grandfather, the head of their family. "There is a lot to be done you know? I've been helping father with his work alone. Not to mention baby sitting a corporation."  She paused behind him stepping up to the back of the sofa looking down at him. "I don't even know if I'm glad you're back or just annoyed with your disappearing act."

Blue eyes washed over her as she sat there contemplating every possible angle in this little game of hers. She was a socialite and he knew with that came potential manipulation. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Memphis; actually he had known him in school. They may not have been the closest of friends but Terrence considered him a friend. What he didn’t like was the thought of them together, maybe it was because he considered him a friend or because she was his cousin. He honestly had no clue why he cared so much about the situation, but regardless it rubbed him the wrong way. He lifted his glass to his lips and took a rather large sip from it before shrugging his shoulders. So what she had seen him, that didn’t very well mean they were together now, did it? It was the way she said it, the look after that sent his mind reeling. She was good with the mind games and because she was he would have to throw the flag in. Well, maybe not just yet.

Twirling his glass in his hands his eyes dropped down to watch the tented liquid rise and fall with the motion. Jessica was complicated; everything that surrounded her was complicated and harsh. From the moment he’d met her, his life began a slow spiral downward. She was his first everything it would seem, included heartbreaker. But she was a habit he couldn’t kick for the life of him. He didn’t know if the hold she had on his was dangerous or not but he knew at times he wished it wasn’t there. She was his weakness because she knew him better than most people cared to. She knew what made him tick, and she played off the weaknesses like a true socialite. They were alike in that sense; they were women who knew what they wanted. Not getting their way was something neither had ever been accustomed to because no one ever had the heart to say no. He became less aware she was in the room with him as a memory drifted through his mind.

The room was quiet, too quiet for him to find comfort in it. The tension had been there for a while and there was no denying that they had never really been serious. But still it felt as this was about to be a harsh ending to something they both needed. Had he expected to get so drawn in by her? No, but she had been intoxicating in the best ways. Their relationship, if one would call it that, was complex and chaotic all at the same time. She didn’t mind his constant bar hopping, he guessed from her guilt of cheating to begin with. This didn’t make his actions better or ever fair, but she had been the one to say they would be open to see other people. He happened to take that as an invitation to do so and so he did, as much as he possibly could. But this, this was something far more earth shattering. This was something that was about to change the dynamics of their relationship.

“I won’t be a place holder, I can’t.” The emotions in her voice did something to his soul and suddenly he felt solely responsible. “I’ve been here…maybe I was waiting but I know what it feels like when a man looks at me and sees someone else..” He had never known he was doing something like that. But if she was saying it now, in the quiet of the room then it had to be true. He had known love, but that love was something he denied himself because it was the right thing to do. Yet, now that Jessica had made it known that those feelings were still there, he didn’t know what to do about anything anymore. He couldn’t speak, there was nothing to say. She had said it and he had to accept that it was time for him to stop running and face it head on. Grabbing his bags he walked out of her life, because he felt it was the right thing to do.

The sound of her glass touching the table brought his mind back suddenly and his gaze shifted to her. He wouldn’t comment on Jessica because they weren’t together anymore and there was no need to. He gave her a slight smile that didn’t touch his eyes. “Well at least some of us have that capability.” He commented on ex answer to how Memphis may have been. “I meant to the public’s eye, since they all happen to be on you at the moment. We are both well aware that you have never really a good girl…” A smirk played on the corners of his lips which some seconds later turned into a smile as she spoke again. “Me vulgar, never.” But really he was when he wanted to be, it was all a part of the image he had built over the years. His face was in the papers more than it should have been, and mostly with rumors of scandalous relationships and affairs.  Some which happened to be true.

But honestly he could live without the answer to his question and welcomed the silence as he got more comfortable in his spot. There were certain things would rather keep at an arm’s length and her sex life was one of those things. He could only imagine that she would feel the same of his, though his was far more colorful and vividly diverse it might cause her to blush.  “You’re right, it’s not.” His gaze followed her as he took another sip from his glass, images flashing through his head. “I’m well aware, a small fact I doubt I’ll ever forget.” He watched her as she moved before looking out the window towards the sky for a few moments.

“I’m back because it was time for me to come home. Paris had lost its glimmer and shine so I came home.” His gaze shifted back to her again and he pursed his lips. “Three weeks ago…and I just needed time alone away from distractions and complications. It had nothing to do with anyone personally just something I needed at the time.” He shifted to rest his glass on the table before leaning back on the couch. “I think my father spoke to him. I was caught up on the events I missed. I now you have a lot on your plate…” And she did there was no denying that, but as he looked up at her he wanted to cross the invisible line between right and wrong. Maybe he had been drinking too much, or maybe he just didn’t care but he had a sudden urge to kiss her. A not a peck to the lips but a kiss that was both real and passionate.

Clearing his throat he shifted so he could stand and walk over to the window, putting space between them. “Maybe it’s a little bit of both…I know I just vanished. I know it was the wrong way to handle things and maybe I should have said I left and that I had come back. But Ren some things I can’t always do because it’s good for everyone else..”  It had been a while since he had said the nickname yet it didn’t seem that way. “For what it’s worth I checked in on you a lot.” His brows came together and he decided to just to tell the truth. “I’m not sure but I think we broke up…Jessica and me before I came home.”

Not even his comment about Jessica struck a cord with her. Why would it? Terrence was never particularly good to the girl. He was always carousing and partying with other women. Jessica always seemed to be an after thought for when he'd come up dry after a night on the town or when he wanted a synpathetic ear to whine to. For nearly 5 months he'd stayed at Dalemain with her and the family after the death and Jessica was never once mentioned that she could recall.

Farren just let him talk though. She turned to face him at the window, leaning her hip against the back of the sofa. Her expression was blank and she quietly sipped at her drink before finishing it and levitating the empty glass lazily over to the nearest table. Her mind was turning things over. How would she respond? Just flat out tell him he was being a useless, whiny, rich boy? That was harsh but true.

Finally she decided the gap between his statement about Jessica and her response was going on too long. "I see," she said having nothing else to say. Something inside of her was hardening towards him. This was all so stupid. He had a duty to their family and he'd failed. Though she was just the heir her Grandfather was never one to deal with these matters. In his mind Terrence and the other Abercrombies like him were to be kept at a very long arms length.

Afterall it was his grandfather who had started dismantling the family tree. It had started small, one female cousin, disowned for marrying a mudblood. It then moved to others that married halfbloods. Then a cousin here or there that opposed bloodist politics. By the time her Grandfather was a young man all of his own siblings had been disowned amd one direct line of succession remained. Those that left for political reasons were never cut off entirely. They were always kept sheltered and employed in the family business but at a low level. Many chose not to participate  at all but Terrence's father had. The man had been hell bent on getting back in the family and thus Terrence had been raised close to Farren though his father was always kept on a short leash as punishment for his Grandfather's politics. They were well off and housed in an Abercrombie home that was nice but not grand. Terrence was unofficially being melded into a position in the family second to Farren. The direct line after Farren consisted of two children bourne by her aunt to her uncle Nyxon. Inheritors by birth they were far to young to be of use to the family now.
Without another word or glance at him she walked back to the bar. She pulled the largest glass she could find from the shelves and began dropping ice one piece at a time into the glass. "Here is what I don't understand," her tone was cold but not angry. It was matter of fact.

"You claim to want to be apart of this family. You have been given more opportunity to do so than anyone else. We came to count on you. We trusted you. This war has thrown our family into great peril. This is an all hands on deck type of situation."

She had filled her glass to the top with ice and was now fishing a silver bowl of limes out and squeezing the slices over the cup. She spoke of the war as if it was still happening because in many ways for her it still was.

"You were immensley helpful over last summer. We all thought you were a critical link in our chain. I know you want to be in a position to have influence in the family. You know it is your birth right. Then what?"

She reached for the bottle of vodka and filled the glass to the rim carefully raising it to her red lips and taking a sip. It was so delicious she didn't bother to set the glass down until it was half gone. He was making her reckless, she wanted to be very drunk now. She didn't want to think about any of this.

Glass in hand she sauntered over to him stopping a pace from him. Standing about a foot from him she considered him for a moment sipping from her glass slowly. "You leave. No warning. No notice. No discussion. Nothing. The only reason I knew you were alive was from gossip columns spotting you with women in Paris. You spent almost a year there amd when you come home you need three weeks to gather yourself?!" She was getting aggitated. Her words were venemous, biting.

Scowling at him she downed the rest of her drink and turned her back to him walking back to the bar. "Forgive me if I can't possibly understand your need to recuperate from a year of whoring in Paris," she slammed her glass down on the bar and flung the bottle of vodka back onto the shelf reaching for something stronger. "Oh Rennie....understand...I couldn't possibly let you k ow I was home for almost a month because I need to recover from doing nothing amd shagging strange women for a year," her tone was whiny, mocking him. Pouring a class of whiskey she made a whining noise directed at him and continued her mocking, "Reeeennnnn you have to understand....I'm so upset about my stressful year whoring around Paris and now my not girl friend and I broke up. That girl I never bothered to ever bring up or visit when I was at Dalemain and wasn't even enough to keep me away from all the women in Paris awwe poor me we are over!"

She downed two shots of whiskey now starting to feel properly intoxicated she walked back over to him, her tirade continuing though now in her normal, angry voice. "I don't care about Jessica and neither do you....clearly. I think we've both known that for..hmmm...what? Five years now? When did all -that- start? Pretty sure you didn't care then or now since last I saw in the papers and you just told me you were shagging a model or seven. I don't want to hear what you can and can't do for others. You think I f***ing care about that? My mother died. My cousin died. My best friend died. Two of my ex boyfriends died. At least three of my friends died. My father is barely capable of leaving the house. Our lives and legacy are on the line. Grandfather, Father, and I could all go to Azkaban tomorrow if someone in the Ministry did enough digging. I am single handedly representing the family and the business and doing it alone. No one is there to help me. I can't f*** off to Paris because I can't handle it all. I don't have the luxury of choice. So forgive me but I don't pity or empathize with you."

She was seething. A livid energy was coursing through her and she was nearly twitching with rage. Her veins were pulsing and her lips were drawn in almost a sneer. Looking dead at him she glared at him with such a rage of there had been a match between them it might have ignited. "I resent you. How dare you leave? How dare you leave no word. How dare you be there the whole time then just vanish? What was I supposed to do when you'd lulled me into security and dependency then suddenly all I'd built my survival on was gone?"

Pursing her lips she turned and looked towards the door. She knew what she had to bring up. What was missing from this tirade but admitting it aloud was more awful than she remembered it being. Not that they talked about -it- ever but anything alluding to the evil things that possesed them when they were emotionally charged and alone. It was wrong and pointless but for years they'd been letting slips in better judgement happen and sweeping it under the rug. Now was the time to bring it up because maybe it somehow mattered though knowing him she speculated that anything she read as affection and attachment was a lie. Given that he'd walked out on what they'd started to build she assumed he was displeased or indifferent as he was with everyome and surely moreso her given she kept so much just out of his reach.

"I tried to give you everything you wanted. Your father could only have been pleased with how far you came up in the family. Power, influence, money...there is only one thing I cpuldn't give you. That I couldn't even if I wanted to. So of you were so unhappy with what'd you'd earned you should have had more realistic expectations. Don't punish me because you can't have what you always knew you couldn't have. You lulled me into a place I could survive in without hurting myslef and then you disappeared."

She softened and for a moment looked almost vulnerable, broken, and scared but she turned away from him looking back at the open door. "I can't feel bad for you...you failed me."

“You think I don’t know what type of situation this is?” His voice rose faintly in his agitation with her. How dare she think for one second that he was unaware of the affects of this war on his family? His jaw flexed softly before he ran his hand over his chin. “I have eyes, I can see just like you can. I can understand the whispers and the snide comments just like the best of them. Just because I wasn’t in the line of your precious vision doesn’t mean I lost sight on what’s important.” He moved from the window a bit before walking back over to look out at the skyline. “Who the f**k do you think you are to assume something like that..”It was safe to say that she had hit a nerve. A nerve that would have ended in a fist fight had she been a man. For her to stand in his face and claim he betrayed his family was like a slap to the face.

He could feel his temper boiling as she continued to mock and rant at him. His jaw flexed slightly as his hand ran down the length of his vest. She was losing her cool and in doing so she was forgetting who he was. Sliding his hand into his pocket so he could twirl his keys between his fingers he took a deep steady breath.  “Really? You’re really going to stand in my face sprouting all this bull…spare me the theatrics their very unbecoming of you, cousin.” He shifted to lean against the wall next to the window as he stared at her. “You want me to say I left because the pressure was too much? That I was weak and instead of fighting I ran off to Paris to distract myself with women?” He scoffed softly as he shook his head. “I said I was sorry but I’m not going to stand here and beg to be forgiven. We all make mistakes its apart of being human.”

He couldn’t very well tell her the truth as to why he had left, now could he? It was all in the grey area of what was acceptable and what wasn’t. There was a certain shame as to how hard things actually seemed to be when someone put you on the spot. He watched her as she looked toward the door and in that instant he wanted to let her leave. To watch her walk out of his life so to speak. She had mocked him and ranted about things she couldn’t very well understand. He moved slowly almost deliberately over to the bar to make himself a drink as she spoke more about what he couldn’t have.  Oh he could have it she was just too afraid of that precious image of hers. “You want to know why I left..” He turned to look at her as he lifted the glass to his lips. “Okay…”

“I left because of you.”  His blue eyes were locked on her as he stood there, taking a moment to let what he had said sink in. “Maybe you can sit around and pretend nothing happened but I couldn’t sit in your face denying the truth. You’re so afraid of what people think…so scared that you’ll disappoint someone or ruin that image you’re trying so hard to maintain.” His glass came down hard on the bar as he took a deep breath. “It was like I was out of control of my own actions..” His gaze shifted to the bar as a frown crossed his features. “But you could never look pass your own emotions and feelings.” Was he calling her selfish, maybe in a way. It had dawned on his that Farren had always been for self. Out to ensure that no matter the situation she came out on top. Even now she had somehow turned him into this monster who destroyed her world. But what about his world?

The faint scent of alcohol clouded his senses and his consumption impaired his judgment just the same. This was a bad idea even in his drunken state he knew that it was, but even so he couldn’t stop himself. He had never wanted to stop himself. Why hide behind the labels of society just because everyone said it was the right thing to do. Skin as soft as the finest silk, nails buried in his flesh. No she wanted this as much as he did, only he was able to admit it without shame. Well maybe not entirely true, but he wasn’t afraid of what came next like he was sure she was. He could tell by the pause in her breathing that even intoxicated she cared what someone might think. She worried more about the hushed whispers than her own happiness.

The room was dark and empty of prying eyes. The only sound was that of their breathing, somehow it seemed urgent. Maybe it was the mixture of excitement and alcohol but whatever it was he welcomed it as his lips found hers. There was no hesitation, not even the slightest pause as he stepped into her frame to deepen the kiss. In that instant it didn’t matter what he had been told, what he had been groomed to do. In that moment what he had chosen to do had been for the better good. Maybe the next day he would feel differently, but in the current he had not regrets. Yet, even though he knew she was afraid she seemed to forget about her image. She forgot about the possible whispers and the judgments that would surely come. She forgot all worry it seemed as her fingers dug into his body, as her hand found its way into his hair.

As quickly as it had occurred it was over. He found himself backing away from her, adjusting his clothes as he did so. What had he just done? This had been different from a curious childhood moment. It had been raw and passionate and marred by liquor.

His laugh was low as his hand rose to allow his index finger and thumb to run over his eyes. Maybe he had had too much to drink…maybe he needed more sleep. Whatever it was here he was with her in a small room arguing about things that neither of them could change. “You’re right I didn’t care about her…probably never did. She knew it even when I couldn’t see it.” For a moment he simply let the air around them settle before his gaze rose to her and he moved to walk towards the door. “At the very least she made it very clear she was not a place holder for someone I was afraid to admit I wanted..” He shrugged as he closed the door gently before leaning against it. “How about we talk about why you’re really mad instead of playing this game of back and forth…how about you finally be honest with me. There is no one here to put on the façade for so let’s just be honest…”

Nothing he could say would change her mind about being upset with him. If he was going to have a temper tantrum about it then he was just proving her point. He had made himself into something in her life. He'd stepped into that role, he wasn't forced. Then he left, for nearly a year, with no work or reason or nothing. To compound it he'd come back and avoided her under the guise that he had to recover from a year of literally doing nothing. If he didn't see the huge problem with all this then he was never going to win another argument or favor from her again. He was making her angry and she was having trouble holding her tongue.

Finally, she hissed at him, "You know exactly who I am to make these accusations and no one is making you beg for forgiveness. However an absent minded 'I'm sorry' doesn't really cut it in this situation." She knew that would piss him off even more but she didn't care. What was he going to do? Walk out of the room? He'd been gone for 8 months, she assumed him leaving again would be bearable now that she was used to it. She was so mad at him all of a sudden she didn't care what happened.

He moved to the bar, angrily of course, because how dare she be upset that he had been a huge let down. Had she not been so mad at him she would have laughed at his reason for leaving. Of course, it wasn't him it was her. Of course at the most inappropriate place he was going to bring this up. She didn't say or do anything, just stared at him. Sure, it was her fault for being selfish, being selfish when the entire fate of their fortune, reputation, and safety was resting on her. How selfish of her to not be in tune with pleasing him. She was fuming it was a wonder there wasn't literally smoke coming out of her ears but she didn't budge from her spot by the window, she just stared at him, her face stuck in a very dangerous looking scowl.

Was this what he wanted? To play with fire? To come at her with some kind of riddled confession of feelings or frustration at least? To back her into a corner, to start a fight. He was insisting that they go -there- of all places right now? She sighed heavily, obviously exhausted already, with this fight.  She did everything she could to ever let her mind go -there- which was fairly easy when he wasn't around. Now though, with him here, and the booze, and him just straight up bringing it up as nonchalantly as planning a party, there was no avoiding it. For a moment her gaze softened, she looked confused and then turned her back to him stepping forward to lean her forehead against the cold pane of the window.

She didn't know what the hell was going on. This wasn't particularly like him. What did he want her to be honest about? She was being honest. Why was she so mad? Because he'd left. For a long time, for no obvious reason, with no contact. Her mind wandered to those months they spent together after her mother's death. The way he became much more than a distant relation hanging around to try and grab up some of the pieces that were falling from the top of the family. Maybe he'd always been much more than some distant relation. The booze was clouding her mind and taking her to places she knew were dangerous. Memories, feelings, emotions. Suddenly it seemed her anger was melting into something more complex. Maybe this was his confession, maybe she had been missing something very obvious for some time now.

Before she knew what she was thinking or saying she was speaking and she assumed it was the fault of the booze. "Remember when we were little. Our mothers would bribe you to kiss my cheek?" she wasn't facing him but she was very obviously addressing him. "I used to love seeing my mother laugh over that. I never understood why it made her laugh, but it was one of the few things I could do to make her laugh." She supposed there was some kind of twisted psychology behind the act of being pleased your mother liked your boy cousin kissing you as a five year old and secretly liking what she liked with the same man now. It was twisted, all of it, that's why she refused to think about it.

He was there to support the family during a crises. Yet she'd become reliant on him in an entirely different capacity. It'd started innocently enough he'd been a shoulder to cry on. He sat in silence with her as she grieved. He held her hand when she couldn't fathom the strength to stand up and face the world alone. Then slowly but surely they'd digressed. Supportive hugs were emotional embraces. A greeting went from a polite and friendly brush of cheeks to a lusty brush of the lips across the cheek and perhaps along the jaw if circumstances allowed it. When she'd stopped crying he'd held her still. There were no tears to wipe away and his touch had become something else, a caress. She'd grown accustomed to falling asleep in his arms and then there was that...The booze clouding her mind was all too familiar and what happened then between them when they were both intoxicated and alone was what she refused to think or speak of. She'd grown accustom to it. She may have even gone out of her way to make sure it happened but she didn't talk about it. They didn't talk about. She knew that they had been pushing his breaking point and yet she couldn't allow it but she couldn't stop herself. So what? That was it then? He left to stop them.

Turning to face him she took a few tentative steps towards him, "You want me to be honest?" She slowly cocked her head to the side, studying him quietly. Her mind was racing with memories she wanted so badly to suppress.

A soft moan escaped his lips as his hands slid up her body and he leaned down and pressed his lips against her pulse.

"This is neither the time nor place..." she shook her head, faltering for a moment but continued, "for this sort of inappropriate discussion but if that's what it's going to take for you to treat me with some respect then fine."

She closed her eyes and his lips slid down her neck, his hands sliding over her bodice, a soft gasp escaped her.

Slowly, silently she walked over to him and stood about a yard away from him, her arms crossed over her body as her only remaining source of emotional armou. She was too tired to muster actually fighting him anymore, she was going to be honest. She stared into his eyes wondering if this was going to be a huge mistake and suddenly the memories were too strong to hold back.

He looked down at her adoringly, his eyes alit with passion, his fingers buried in her hair and furrowed his brow as a desperate moan escaped his lips and he trembled in her arms. Tenderly he scooped her into his arms and kissed her lips and face, rocking her gently against his body, his gaze so tender and adoring.

"I have never felt so damn foolish as I did the morning you left," she hissed softly. "I never asked you to become that. I never made you do any of it. I thought that was what you wanted...I know that was what you wanted,"

His hands moved over her skin so softly it was as if he was wearing silk gloves. He kissed her so tenderly. Their lips stung of alcohol as they always did but neither cared, he leaned over her slender form and enveloped her in a kiss that was so powerful it made her woozy.

Pursing her lips she scowled at the memories inhibiting her. With a shaky breath she continued, "I thought you wanted fun and games. That's all you ever seem to want from anyone, fun and games and that is what I thought it all was to you. Some sick twisted game of taboo cat and mouse put into our heads by our silly mothers....I knew nothing could come of it it. I knew sooner or later you'd get bored with my limited offerings and move on. Yet when I woke up and you'd left the house....and your apartment was empty and your mother didn't know where you were....it was like...like all the lights had gone out inside me."

Shaking her head slowly she looked at him curling her lip in disgust, "I was a pawn wasn't I? You just got bored and fluttered off to something that could fulfill you. That's fine I knew it was coming but it was like....how worthless was I to not even deserve a good bye? Not even an explaination. NOTHING! YOU LEFT ME WITH NOTHING!" She was growing heated so much so that her cheeks were flushed. "I thought we had something special, I don't know what but I thought I could count on you. I needed you! You were the only one there for me. You made me feel safe when the world seemed so terrifying. You made me feel wanted when the world rejected me, when my own father rejected me. It was the only way I'd survived those months and you left! You took it all away and I came crashing down like a jilted fool for it! I'm FARREN ABERCROMBIE....you can't do that to me. I'm not one of your cheap tricks. You can't build my world around counting on you being there and then run away! You can't! I won't stand for it ever again!"

She was yelling at him, her skin flushed and glistening with a tinge of sweat her hands now moving sharply as she spoke. "You expect me to just be OK with some half ass apology and a sexy saunter from you? That won't cut it, not by a long shot. You don't have to beg for forgivness but you do have to act like you actually want it."

He watched her as she leaned against the window and his eyes closed slowly.This was turning into something he didn't want it to. He knew that when he finally saw her again for the first time that things would be heated, but nevertheless he hoped that they could at least be civil. He knew that she had every right to be upset. After-all he had just left without word after a night that had been on his mind every night since. He could tell by the way she now looked at him that was about to come was going to be worth listening to. He wasn't sure he would like everything she was about to say but he knew he wanted to hear everything she had to say. He watched as the distance closed between them and how guarded even now she seemed. He had broken through that shell, had gotten behind the invisible wall that had protected her from the world. It was strange to be back on the other side of the wall, almost in a painful way. Maybe he had had too much to drink, after all he had lost count

"I know that the way I left had been the wrong way...maybe I was confused and shocked still by what had happened.." He had been. It still hung on his mind now, but he knew that there was no denying it now. "But...I started to care.. I can't tell you when because honestly Farren I don't know. One day it started to feel natural just to hold you. And I found myself wanting more from you then I should." He had to have drank too much. "I can't excuse my escape to Paris...but it was something I needed to do. I had to do, because wanting you in a capacity that was so far what was right scared me." He swallowed softly because he deserved her anger. She had not asked to feel any kind of way about him, she had not asked him to come by and spend so much time with her. No that had his own doing. He had done it to them both. But he had always loved her, she had always been something important in his life - even when she was annoying him.

"I couldn't stay...I felt like I had taken advantage of you while we were drinking..and that the drinking had caused me to do something that would make you look at me differently." His jaw flexed softly as his looked down at the floor. "I knew that leaving the way I did was wrong, but at the time it seemed like my only choice. Now that I look back on it I think I should have rethought that decision. I came back everyday...well every night to check on you. My mom felt the need to give me constant updates on your well-being as well. Even though I had to distance myself from you it felt like I still couldn't. I wanted to be around you...it felt like the world was heavier while I was away. I thought about you constantly and in all honesty I don't care if people know. Before I was afraid...because it different that time."

His eyes rose to hers as he too a slow deep breath. "I started to care and that was different for me. I wanted more from you then I knew you were capable of being able to give..so instead of ruining our relationship with a drunken night that made me feel like I was madly in love with you I left to clear my head.." He had grown tired of the fighting, he fought enough with Jessica as it was. Even now they were fighting, always fighting. But he couldn't be mad at her because she had a right to be, he could only assume.But now he had to deal with the matter at hand. "So...I am sorry for just vanishing, it was a terrible thing to do. I really am sorry that I made you feel any way but loved....it was never fun and games. I'm really sorry I hurt you, it was the last thing I wanted to do..."

Farren was so mad it took her a moment to realize what he was saying was sincere and not some kind of joke. The alcohol in their systems was not good and she was not sure how she should take his words but she was still angry and still confused. He seemed to have softened somehow, probably all the booze but it seemed like her hostility had softened him. It was difficult to listen to but at the same time somehow exactly what she'd wanted to hear. But yet she didn't want to hear it at all. It wasn't right. It didn't make sense. It couldn't be.

Frozen in front of him she stared, her expression growing ever more confused as he spoke. He cared? Was that true? He'd cared for a long time and suddenly it mattered? Part of her wasn't sure why he was so torn up over one night, it wasn't like anything that had never happened happened. It still didn't justify his actions. It was almost excusable this...if he had just said anything at all about it. Even a good bye, anything would have sufficed. She shook her head trying to clear the jumble of thoughts that were clouding her.

"You what?!" she roared when he so non-chalantly mentioned that he came to check on her nightly. "You came into my HOUSE? You WATCHED me EVERYDAY?" she made some motion like she was about to lunge at him before growling and pulling herself back taking a couple of steps away from him shaking her head. Now she was seething. "What is wrong with you? Why would you do that? You sick or something? Disappearing like that and knowing how hard it would be for me then sneaking, uninvited into my home to check on me like some creepy big brother?" She scoffed and shook her head pressing her palm to her forehead. "What if I had been with someone? Would you just watch?" She scowled thinking about her night with Memphis and very much hoping for Memphis' sake he hadn't seen that. "How could you just watch me suffer and say nothing? What kind of sick, cruel man are you?"

Sighing heavily she turned her back to him staring at the opposite wall. This was utterly absurd and inappropriate. What was he saying really? He had started falling in love with her? Love in an actual way that he cared about her and how she viewed him. Cared enough to not try and take from her what he knew she couldn't give? It was all somehow kind of, almost, sweet in that light. But no. She wouldn't entertain that thought. That was booze talking. No matter what fuzzy feeling he may have given her when she was in the throwes of grief and panic at the end of the war there was no doubt that this man was the most selfish, self serving opportunist she'd ever met. Preying on his own family, his beloved younger cousin who'd cherished him her whole life. Who'd opened up to him. But he'd left to stop himself from pushing her too far....

"No!" she bellowed to herself and inhaled sharply closing her eyes. Not now. Not here. Not ever. This was all not going to happen. What had happened before was over. They were silly children then. After the war she was broken and vulnerable and longing for emotional and physical connection. That was all it was. The end. Opening her eyes she turned to look at him her lips pursed. She stared at him her eyes flickering with a multitude of emotions but her face was stony and cold.

"I've had far too much to drink tonight," she said forcing an apologetic smile. "I appreciate your apology but I'm sure you can understand it will take some time for me to...process." She was so stiff she seemed almost uncomfortable and she anxiously raked her fingers through her hair. "Now that your back I'm sure I'll be seeing you at the mandatory family dinner meetings on Sunday so....maybe over coffee we can take a turn around the parlor and reflect..." she paused pursing her lips and glancing away from him for a moment. It was awkward being so formal with him. She wanted to reach out, grab his shoulders and shake him harshly until everything made sense. Smiling weakly she licked her lips nervously, "We can reflect on how foolish people can be when they lose their heads and such silly things...and perhaps we can come to an understanding as to not completely ruin our relationship. You know...for the family."

With a curt nod she stepped forward and grabbed hold of the door knob he wasn't blocking. "So I suppose...tomorrow I'll see you. We should sober up...Grandfather won't be pleased if I'm tanked for family meeting," she tried to smile at him but failed and bit her lip looking at the door infront of her. "I hope....I hope you enjoy the rest of the party. I'm sorry for disrupting your evening. Good night." she was so curt and quick she had shut the door behind her as soon as she finished. With the door closed between them she sighed heavily and leaned forward pressing her forehead against it closing her eyes tightly. Swallowing hard she bit her lip and looked up pressing her hand to the door where she knew he was standing. Her heart was racing and she could swear she could feel his through the door but she refused to think that and turned to return to the party.