❝In which the girl who feels too much gets close to the boy who wants to feel nothing.❞
━━If one would ask Regulus Black to give his opinion on Alera Abbot, he would unhesitatingly tell you that she was a walking hazard to society.
But in his defenc...
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---------------------> AT DINNER, SURROUNDED BY THE CHATTERING AND CROWD of their fellow students at the Hufflepuff table, Pandora trained an accusing glare on Alera, like she'd committed a crime worthy of capital punishment. Alera ignored the waves of irritation being directed from her friend towards her in favour of admiring the dressing on the rainbow salad on her plate, which bounced off the light. Picking up her fork, she pierced through vegetables. As she chewed, she played with a lone cherry tomato.
Registering that she wasn't going to be acknowledged through mere staring, Pandora loudly tutted in disapproval, accompanying the sound with a shake of her head.
Alera sipped her water.
Pandora cleared her throat pointedly and sighed deeply, like the exhaust of a furnace.
Alera ate a third bite of her salad and wrinkled her nose. "The dressing is too lemony. It tastes more like tea than dressing."
"And I know how much you love drinking tea," said Pandora, plate and utensils untouched as she leaned forward, like a predator trapping its prey. "And hey, speaking of things you love, didn't you think it would be a good idea to give me a heads-up before you adopted a bowtruckle? Whenever we played with dolls when we were little, I told you that I wanted to be the wine aunt."
"You could still be the wine aunt."
"I can't compete with Iola fucking Avery for the wine aunt position. She's the embodiment of it," grumbled Pandora, placing her elbow on the table and perching her chin on her knuckles. With her free hand, she twirled her butter-knife like it was a baton. The Junior Cheerleading workshop the two of them had attended when they were seven paid off at times. "And now, I'm stuck with being the cool, fun aunt."
"Isn't that a good thing?"
"If it was a good thing, I wouldn't be complaining about it."
Alera's mind had to perform gymnastics to connect the dots, to try and understand what Pandora claimed, to try reasoning why being the cool, fun aunt was a bad thing. A futile effort. "Perhaps you could aim for being the favourite aunt," she said instead.
Pandora gave a noncommittal hum before pinching the bridge of her nose. "I can't believe I left you alone for a day and a half to study, and you're co-parenting a child with a man who behaves like one." Despite the exasperation colouring her tone, Pandora's eyes glimmered with amusement at her own words.
"Cinnamon isn't a child. He's almost a teenager if we're going by bowtruckle years," informed Alera.
"Out of everything I said, that's the part which struck out to you?"
"It's the only part that you said incorrectly," said Alera, shrugging.
"And yet, you actually agreed to such an arrangement." Pandora's voice was painted with disapproval. "The least you could do was give me a heads-up before I was dragged to be your representative in the custodial agreement. I'm too young to be a godmother, dammit."
