Brunch, Announcements and Awkwardness

Avery rolled her eyes pointedly at his question of trust. She wanted to, yes. But it wasn't like they knew each other that well. How could they, like this? If anything, Avery didn't think the vast majority of their trust and communication and feelings would come until after the wedding. Her mind drifted momentarily to the time of year, and how if they honeymooned it would have to be somewhere warm and lovely. Like... The Mediterranean or something.

Robin's continued response drew her back to the present as she looked up at him. He seemed fairly determined to at least help her tell the two in the other room, which almost made her more nervous. When he tried to reciprocate her pointless and awkward hug, though, she brushed it off. He was going to let her tell them.

Avery propped herself up on her elbows as he moved to sit up properly and nodded at him. “Let's see how this goes.” She announced with finality, though she wasn't so sure she was ready. Rather than spending time thinking about it and finding a way to avoid saying anything, Avery flung back his covers, stood, and pushed them back where they belonged with slight chagrin at messing up his bed.

At the doorway, she brushed down her shirt and glanced back at Robin wordlessly before heading into the hallway.

---

Keiran looked down at Millie's hand, slightly confused at her change of attitude. Maybe it was just that they weren't at what they could pretend was called home, back in his rooms at Hogwarts. Either way, he found himself disappointed. They had been getting on so well, all things considered. Especially that morning. Keiran couldn't explain what exactly had come over him, but seeing her so casual and seemingly interested in him had made him ignore the shell he had carefully created. Instead, her change in demeanor felt like a glimmer of rejection.

Ignoring that thought as entirely as he could, the Transfiguration Professor dropped his hand and backed away, letting her cook or whatever she felt up to doing.

The click of shoes on the floor of the hallway from Robin's room got Keiran's attention, making him turn away from the younger blonde who was just confusing him. “Avery.” He greeted simply at her entrance, quickly catching on to her stiff posture and wary expression as her eyes met his.

“Keiran.” She replied tensely, her tone matching her nerves. Oh, she couldn't do this. He probably already knew she was terrified, but didn't know it was of his reaction.

“Are you alright?” Keiran asked, wondering what was going on with the two women in the house. They were both acting so strangely and clearly needed to be given a moment to relax.

“I need to talk to you. Both of you, if you have a moment, Millie. I promise I'll help make breakfast after; it won't take long.” Avery's words were quick and quiet as she gestured to the stools under the edge of the bar in Robin's kitchen. If Keiran was going to jump out of a chair, at least it would be one without a back, which probably would make less noise and be less likely to break or hurt him. Keiran's raised eyebrow made her avert to gaze to the floor but once the two had settled onto chairs – Keiran's hand extended over to Millie in an offer to hold hers – Avery began.

“So I got my letter two days ago, and had a meeting with Mrs. Levski yesterday morning.” She began, holding a hand up at Keiran's attempt to ask something like why she hadn't told them, “And you know my match. Quite well.”

“We do?” Keiran questioned slowly, lifting the other eyebrow as well and eyeing her cautiously.

“Yes,” Avery started, glancing back at the hallway, “Well, Robin and I decided that I should tell you, since-”

“Excuse me?”

That quiet, careful and oddly threatening voice was not what Avery had been expecting. Not at all. Keiran was holding Millie's hand too tightly and quickly released it after patting the back of it gently in apology. At least he could keep part of his wits together. Avery had been matched with Robin? What was the Ministry thinking? Not only did Keiran lose his bet, but now he had to be careful to watch Avery whenever he saw her. Sure, Robin was his best mate, but that didn't mean that a man liked his best friend to date or marry his little sister. Sure, they weren't technically siblings, but they may as well have been at that point.

It was the realization that Avery could get hurt. That Robin had probably hurt girls in the past with his antics and jumping from person to person. It wasn't okay. Keiran narrowed his gaze at Avery before directing an even angrier glare at the hallway as if in doing so Robin could feel his anger in the other room.

“What the bloody hell, Robin?” Keiran shouted down the hall. The man could have at least told him.

“Keiran, listen,” She started at a near yell, wanting to cut him off at the pass. “I forbid you to take anything out on him. If you're mad, get mad at me.” His eyes moved back to her and the ice in them actually scared her enough for her face to fall into one of nervousness.

“You really want that, Avery? I doubt it.”

Keiran could see the shock and sudden fear in Avery's eyes but at that point wanted so badly to threaten Robin that it hardly registered.

“I know you're protective, but now is so not the time.” She sighed audibly, trying to get him to just calm down at the very least, if not to lay off of them for a bit. This was going about how she had expected.

“No, now feels like as good a time as any. I need to talk to him.” He took a step towards the hallway but Avery shuffled over to stand in front of him, her hands up. “Let me by, Bishop.” He warned seriously, frowning at her. Keiran never called her that, not since they met. It stung, surprising her again.

“You. Listen. Here.” Avery punctuated each word with a rough shove against his shoulders, glaring up at him. Gods, sometimes she wished she was taller. She was glad that she hadn't worn heels that morning, though. Fighting in heels didn't sound appealing. “You're going to accept this, Hayes. Because you have no choice. Just like Robin didn't have a choice in getting stuck with me.”

Her hands fell in awe at her own shouted, angry words. That hadn't come out quite like she meant it. But something in her suggested it was the truth of her feelings. Silence landed on her, hard. Like it was a tangible thing she couldn't push off of her shoulders. With a last, disappointed look at Keiran, Avery turned and left the room, searching for a guest bathroom. She pushed open a couple doors before finding it and locking herself inside. Damn him, making this so much worse. For making her cry.

Avery left and for a second Robin sunk back down into the bed, staring up at the ceiling and processing what had just happened. It did not escape him that three people now occupied his kitchen unsupervised and with a low groan of exhaustion he sat up and slid out from under the covers. The slightly chilly air hit his bare chest and Robin stumbled to the thermostat where he turned it up a couple degrees. The boy had no fireplace but with winter coming he had begun to regret this decision.

Once he heard the heater kick on successfully, Robin turned to the dresser drawers that contained a small portion of his closet. The main storage remained in his room at the Moscow home and patriotically he would bring a suitcase home to exchange his clothes for the seasons and update his wardrobe. Currently his smaller closet contained mostly fall clothes which had been proving not quite warm enough for his tastes. Robin slid into a pair of pants and and pulled a simple tee shirt over his head.

It was brunch. It was morning. They were in his kitchen. Robin could not have been honestly expected to try and look nice or dress up.

He had barely put on his slipper-shoes when the first raised voices could be heard from downstairs. Oh. He paused for a moment, unwilling to venture down to the source of the noise. There were certain things he and Keiran never did - hook up, steal a girl (without a recognized agreement of mutual availability), and fight. The simple rules had never been broken and had avoided all unnecessary drama and conflict between the two men. Robin was sure that they were half of the reason that he had managed to stay friends with Keiran for so long. They understood each other and they didn't cross certain lines.

Now, Robin was not overly enthusiastic about having to break one of the golden rules and face the argument that he could so clearly hear going on. But because of their situation he couldn't help but need to break yet another rule - putting a girl above his best friend. While his presence downstairs probably wouldn't help solve any of the raised voices, the least he could do was try and deflect his anger from Avery. She didn't deserve it.

Without worrying about the rest of his appearance (he figured he probably looked fine anyway), Robin left his room and started to make his way downstairs. He reached the entrance to the living room just to catch the last words of the conversation as clear as day. "Just like Robin didn't have a choice in getting stuck with me.” This froze him from calling out or making his presence known. He wanted to deny it - to say that he was in love or he would have loved to marry her anyway. But it would have been a lie.

He was stuck. There was no way he would have proposed to Claire Bishop's sister without a push from the universe (backed with the threat of prison time). Marriage had never been in the plans and if he was being genuinely honest with himself it still wasn't really that comforting of a future. He knew he could, and would, be happy to have Avery in his life. She was smart, beautiful, and in some ways so completely compatible he couldn't help but feel blessed.

It was just the term 'wife' that would take some getting used to. Maybe they could label themselves as 'super-awesome-partners-in-crime' or 'best-mates-who-live-together-and-shag' or maybe 'like-family-but-not' just until he got his head around what was happening. Jumping from an active campaign against marriage to an engaged man in less than 48 hours had been a difficult transition for him and his brain hadn't really adjusted.

But the moment of panic passed as Robin watched Avery practically flee the room and down the hall. He entered where she had just left, his eyes on Keiran as he absorbed the bits and pieces of the argument he had just overhead. The rules of their brotherhood were quickly slipping. None had been written about wives or girlfriends. This had never been in the plans and had effectively flipped their entire relationship around into new and uncharted waters.

He shook his head quickly at Keiran, pausing only for a moment to say, "Don't take this out on her. You know it isn't anyone's fault." before he continued on down the hall after Avery. "Prick." he mumbled under his breath as he went. Her sudden disappearance worried him but the house was quite small and there were only a few places she could have gone. Sure enough, the bathroom door was shut and he stopped before it. Robin knocked and called in,

"Ave, it's me. Can I come in?"

As soon as the words had left his mouth he realized how completely weird they sounded. He suspected that even married couples didn't exactly barge into the bathroom whenever they wanted and it was extraordinarily strange of him to ask entrance now. But he could hear the muffled sounds of a crying female and Robin would have bet his broom that having a pee was the last thing on Avery's mind.

Guilt had never felt so tangible. Like it was hitting him in the chest where Avery had pushed him. Her loud, emotional last sentence left him speechless. Keiran couldn't tell if his mouth was hanging open until Robin walked in and leveled him with the worst, most painful look Keiran had ever received from his best mate, effectively closing Keiran's mouth for him.

Not anyone's fault? Keiran knew that. He wasn't a complete tosser, honestly. But he couldn't bring himself to voice the fears that Robin and Avery's match brought. Keiran didn't think his friend would ever forgive him for them. Once Robin left the room – his insult stinging as it punctuated Keiran's ears – the professor moved to sit on one of the stools, setting his head in his hands. Why did Millie have to be there to see that? He didn't know how he would explain it to her. Bloody hell.

After taking a minute for himself, Keiran looked over the bar at Melissa, pain etched across his face. He didn't have the right to feel badly in that moment. He was the one who caused the problem. Dejected, Keiran began drawing nonsense designs along the top of the bar, unable to look her in the eye. The Slytherin in him was showing, and he was sure she wouldn't be okay with it.

--

If there was one thing Avery hated above everything else, it was admitting to her fears and problems. Especially in front of people who she couldn't help but need in her life. People she loved. Footsteps sounded outside of the door and, sure enough, Robin's voice made its way through the cracks between the door and the wall and floor. A gasp fell from her lips at his nickname and she rushed to wipe her face before moving to the door.

She braced herself against the door for a brief moment before unlocking it and quickly moving away from the door. “Of course.” Avery replied finally, lifting herself up to sit on the counter and ignoring the chill that the material brought.

Much like the Slytherin sitting in the kitchen, Avery had trouble bringing her eyes up to meet his when the door opened. Instead, she continued to brush the backs of her hands against her cheeks, though the tears were no longer flowing.

(OOC: I've been reading Bronte. This got very fluffy. I'm proud of it but even so. LOL)

Whilst unable to dance on false pretences or feigned feelings of warm affection, the hurt in the eyes of the woman who absorbed the utterances of her peer’s explosive temper was enough to still the distaste that had permeated the younger lady’s reception of the former. Her hands wobbled over their ministrations, her figure having elected to steal away and worry over their meal. Her eyes closed briefly, the mere fluttering of her eyelashes kissing at her cheeks enough to see them retract once more to the light and to the world around her that was familiar in its contents but not so in their arrangement or their hues. Whilst it could have been anyone’s abode at all it was distinctly becoming of its owner and within it their strangeness and hostilities rose until it abated and washed away with the rushing in of the waters of conscience of which they were all subject to regardless of implication in the matters.

The rush of feet and ingress and egress that followed left the last pair ultimately to their own devices but for the crackling sound of eggs sliding into the griddle hot on the stove. The fat began to spit absently to its own tune and as she went she cleaned clear the kitchen of its clutter, watching with equal tentative fervour both the meal-to-be and her husband whose passions had waned and were reduced in stature. Within herself, Melissa could not find the desire to take sides for she knew none of the offending parties well enough to establish loyalties; though she knew where they were required by love and law to lie. Thus, while she said nothing in the prefacing moments post the retirement of Robin, her allegiances were set in carefully shaped precious stones, glinting in the early morning light sliding through the panes of glass.

Reaching finally for a fish slice, Melissa carefully turned onto their heads the bubbling eggs and with a flick of her wand she set the bread knife to attend to its ward, fresh and cheese topped, gooey, still, in the middle and peppered though it was. Once the first pair was finished, the eggs were tipped onto buttered cuts of bread and after setting her wand on the counter she brought the two plates to the kitchen counter, pausing only in her motions to take from one of the drawers a set of cutlery each. It was without malice that she set the plates down, pressing his directly into his eye-line without reservations. She met him with pointed directness, handing over the cutlery at her will before, electing to stand, taking up her own.

“We are meant to love those we hold dear to us,” she projected, carefully. “You were wrong just then,” she studied him, “but you realise that.”

He was forlorn, like a puppy scolded from the joy of play but in a far more critical, wounded manner. What struck her other half was the wounded realisation of words committed to the wrong endeavours. Words, regardless of the adage, hurt far more than sticks and stones and while Avery could heal herself from the cuts and scrapes of the physical world, Kieran’s words would wound and bruise for an immeasurable amount of elapsing time; but he was privy to that fact, also.

“Eat,” Millie insisted, bearing for that moment a striking resemblance to her predecessors. Her lips curled into a slight, half-smile but it was one that did not reach her eyes, such was her constricting neutrality.

“Then,” she paused, allowing her fork to cut into the yolk of the egg, “we will wait and see what happens but you will apologise.” Her eyebrows rose, climbing her forehead for a brief moment before her expression changed, resuming placid contentedness as she explored her breakfast. It was not a fight she was willing to take up and make her own passion. She did not wish to howl at him in some manic form her mother would delight in. Rather, instead, she kept her silence; such was the sudden way of her.

Without much argument or pause the door was unlocked and opened, revealing a slightly red-eyed Avery. She stepped backward and he mirror her movement, closing the door behind him as he entered. "It's okay" he offered as some lousy form of encouragement. "I mean, he's going to get over it. Just shocked is all." Robin leaned against the counter, close enough to Avery that they would have been seated side be side if he lifted himself up. He glanced up at his fiancée, a slight grin playing at the corners of his mouth despite himself. "I mean, you did kind of spring it on him."

Robin refrained from making any comments along the lines of 'I told you so' even though he was thinking it. While the Russian boy assumed he could have kept the situation more under control it was probably not the case. He lacked Avery's tact with words and subtlety and if she had been yelled at for her words, Robin's probably would have been met with fists. Keiran's extreme reaction to the announcement puzzled Robin and unless he was about to confess his undying love for Avery there was no real excuse for it. Friends didn't ruin friend's engagement parties.

Robin's hand moved to Avery's knee and he turned to look at her. The blonde's eyes were already returning to normal and he was slightly surprised to see her cheeks were dry. For a moment he had been worried about her tearful tendencies but Robin was significantly impressed with the way she was pulling herself together. From headstrong Claire to self-reliant Della to buisnesslike Elijah, a lack of emotional neediness had always been a turn-on. It was only now that Robin was seeing that Avery wasn't entirely the confident, whiskey-drinking, flirtatious girl that she had always shown him.

But sitting here in the bathroom, her red eyes dry of tears, Robin couldn't help but think of how beautiful she still was. Or course there would be time later to ask about the troubling things in the argument he had heard but now was not the time or place. Because even though the tears put Avery in a new light it did not have to a bad one. Hadn't Della always come to him for help? And Elijah for an escape? While insecurity and demons could be undesirable there was also no doubt that Robin had a weakness when it came to playing hero.

"So what do you want to do? I can go talk to him to give you a minute if you need." He reached up to clasp her hand and squeeze it once. "Or together." He let his hand fall back to his side as he stood up from the counter and turned to face the door, glancing to Avery to see if she would stay or go.

From her perch on the counter, her head was about even with his, if not a little higher. Avery found herself leaning towards him like she intended to set her head on his shoulder. His almost joking attempt at comfort actually made her want to laugh, but instead she pursed her lips in a near-pout and finally looked at him. “Maybe I should have stayed in your room and let you tell him.” She replied with as much snark as she could manage.

She really should have waited, or perhaps just stuck close to Robin until Keiran asked what was going on and why he and Millie had been called for Brunch. Then they could have suggested that it should be obvious, regardless of the lack of engagement ring. Eventually the professor probably would have figured it out. Maybe. Either way, she had tried to tread lightly, but in the end they had riled each other up to the point of an all out yelling match, and Avery found herself rather ashamed of it.

When his hand came to rest on her knee, Avery shifted so she nearly faced him, though she still claimed her spot atop the counter. She found herself hoping in the back, dark part of her mind that this would not actually become a spot she needed to visit very often. “I'm sorry... It was my fault as much as his. I don't know why he yelled like that. I thought he would be, you know, confused. Or concerned and think we were pranking him, which would end in him getting angry anyways. He hates pranks. … I just can't see what would make him so mad.”

After the silence fell and he released her hand, Avery found that she wanted his hand back. “Wait,” she began, pushing herself off of the sink top and brushing down her shirt - a nervous tick she hadn't noticed before - in an attempt to come across as still being put together like before she had mentioned their match. “Yes, together.” She agreed, nodding firmly to assert her preparedness.

- -

Keiran felt very much like the guilty child, or the pet that knew they were in trouble with those in charge of them. Millie, in this case, was acting rather like his mum would have, and he somehow found that both comforting as well as concerning. He decided he would make it a goal to never have to be so ashamed of something he'd done. Sometimes, contrary to popular belief, he just didn't think. If his temper took over, he knew he would probably be angry with himself after.

His hand nearly lifted of its own accord in an attempt to touch her, but he had to actively focus on eating and keeping his mouth shut. Apologizing to her wouldn't help any of the parties involved, even if he wished he could sometimes put away the parts of him that shouted “Slytherin.” Eventually, he had stopped questioning his house placement. By now, of course, it was a joke to even wonder.

Rather than actually eating too much of what she had given him, Keiran nudged the food with the silverware provided and tried to eat as much as he could of it. He didn't very well want to insult Millie as well. At least, not outright.

Shoes clattered on the floor, catching his attention again. Avery was following Robin back into the room, avoiding eye contact. To someone like Millie, who didn't know the dragon trainer, Keiran figured she probably looked about like she did normally. But he had seen the aftermath of her moments of doubt or being hurt, and knew the look in her eyes well.

- -

Avery glanced over at their plates, registering that she had promised to help make breakfast. At that point, though, she wondered if perhaps Melissa did not like her – the other couple were on their way to eating (though Keiran seemed to be avoiding it) without sign of plates for herself or Robin. With everything going on, though, she hoped it was just by accident or Millie not realizing it hadn't been done.

So, without a word to anyone, Avery turned to the cabinets and started opening a couple in search of something she could use to mix up pancakes. Many post-finals mornings had involved Keiran coming over so they could eat pancakes, rant about their tests, and basically just spend the day being lazy and reveling in their short-term freedom. She ignored thoughts about what happened after Graduation with Keiran, and instead turned to Robin and asking, “Do you have a mixing bowl?”

Even as she asked, though, she was turning to open the fridge. Keeping busy would keep any emotions from surfacing. Besides, she had promised him food and wasn't about to go back on that and suggest he fetch himself some cereal or make himself toast. Surely that wouldn't be a good sign in his opinion.

A shadow over her shoulder nearly made her jump, though, before she turned and realized it was Keiran. His arms wrapped around her without warning, causing Avery to squeeze her eyes shut to keep from backing away. She couldn't bring herself to hug him back, but knew that they needed to be okay, even if it meant letting him try and fix what he could. He muttered an apology in her ear – something he wasn't very good at doing, sometimes – and promised a full-length explanation the next time they went out drinking. Avery wasn't sure how soon she would want to do that. Something told her it wouldn't be until after the wedding; until he had come to terms with everything.

Her eyes opened and searched for Robin's over her friend's shoulder, grateful when Keiran pulled away after her nod at his words. After he had returned to his seat, Avery blinked a few times and returned to the refrigerator in search of the right foodstuffs to make the pancakes as promised.

Arguments had always been her forte: her reflex. Every single conversation she’d ever had with her mother had always brought with it an undercurrent of quiet battle. The woman dealt each other blows with forked tongues. It had been something she’d grown used to since she’d been old enough to understand that was how she and Lavender communicated.

After her father had died they’d lost their whiles and their addiction. All scuffles ended in tears and in emotional agony. Lavender was it, the last and the only. Skirmishes with her resulted in conflict with Elliot and at the end of that, Millie always wound up alone. So it had become natural now for her to shrink away from vipers and harsh words. She was loathe to rise to any of it. Hence her silence.

In truth, she found no solace in the food she’d prepared. Contrary, she had done some for the others, the rest of it languishing in the pan she’d stowed away in the oven to keep it warm. It was fine, edible and all the rest, but she’d lost her appetite on more than one level. She was livid, really, but no amount of calm could quite quell that. If anything, she was angrier with herself for the sheer fact of being angry.

She shook her head, finally, and set down her fork, only just managing to not childishly throw it down with a clatter onto the plate. She scowled openly, throwing her mental anger into the plate of food before her before slipping down off of the chair and shoving off into the living room, thoroughly finished and done with the brunch that had barely begun.

It didn’t take her long to find what she was looking for. Robin was typical. Almost a cliché – though she doubted the menthols were his. Rather, a lady friend of his that liked a peppermint edge to her tobacco – or whatever it was that the menthol did; Millie didn’t pretend to understand considering she didn’t smoke them.

There weren’t many left but Millie was past chain-smoking like a chimney. Instead she took one and removed the pink lighter – definitely a lady friend – tucked into the box also, making a mental note to replace them whenever the opportunity arose. Then she left the house, slipping out onto the porch to dump herself down on the steps.

Her fingers remembered exactly want to do. She lit the cigarette with expert finesse and took the first drag with some reservation. She sighed out the smoke, tossing the lighter away from her body, and frowned out at the world around her. She tapped the ash away when it burned to a point at the end and brought the cigarette back to her lips again, releasing the smoke this time through her nostrils like a dragon.

“Bastard,” she muttered under her breath with a mouthful of smoke.

How dare he try and convince her there was some normal to be had? How dare Trent treat her like he’d never be enough when it had always been her? It was so stark, now. She was just a little girl throwing a tantrum and unsuccessfully playing with the big kids.

Millie threw off her shoes and watched them tumble down the steps with quiet glee. She flicked away some more ash and then she was done, finished and free. She finished her cigarette, exhaling the last breath of it, and stubbed it out.

She realised after a moment she’d not enjoyed it. That it meant she’d not changed. Regardless of the menthol addition or whatever else she had going for her in that one little stick of nostalgia, she’d not enjoyed it. In fact, she half-wished she hadn’t have bothered at all. Certainly, it hadn’t solved anything. But then, had it ever?

Millie coursed her fingers through the front of her hair and shook her head fervently, dropping her hands into her lap to tug at the dress, wondering where the pretention had come from. She hated dresses. She loathed them with burning passion. Whatever had happened to the jeans and the drugs and the easy smiles and the free love?

When did they make some semblance of a wife out of her?

He could hear Avery placing things along the counter as she needed them, then pausing as she found what Millie had left on the stovetop. Keiran felt her eyes on the two of them as he finally tucked into the plate she had given him after the fight.

Keiran glanced up in surprise at Millie's clearly frustrated exit. His eyes finally met Avery's straight on as she looked up in concern at the clattering of silverware as it hit his wife's plate. He barely registered that he had just addressed Melissa as his wife in his mind before running the idea of following her into Robin's flat through his mind.

“Maybe just give her a second?” Avery asked. Keiran knew she was trying to tell him he was at least partly forgiven, as his friend knew little to nothing about the younger blonde. Although they had nearly had a moment of bonding earlier with their jumping atop Robin to wake him, or protect him in Avery's case, Keiran knew there was something between them that didn't quite work.

He didn't understand. He had listened to her, kept his mouth shut after making a mess of things by talking, and done as she had said. All in all, he'd played the part of husband decently well, he thought. Had he missed something? Who else could she have been mad at? Sure, he had decided that she and Avery weren't getting on. But he didn't see how she could be so angry at Avery that she stormed off like that.

He shook his head, finally deciding that if he waited around, he would probably be in more trouble than if he didn't. Millie probably didn't want to see him, if he was the cause as he predicted, but he couldn't go back to the school with her angry with him. Keiran wasn't very fond of the couch in his rooms, but feared that he would be using it as a bed for a while.

After a bit of searching, he remembered the patio and moved to look out the window. She was smoking? He couldn't remember her doing that in the time he'd known her. Keiran wondered if she had carried the lighter and cigarette with her the whole time. Pulling the door open, he stepped out onto the porch just in time to catch her quiet insult – which he now knew had to be directed at him. She finished and looked down at her dress as the door closed behind him.

As much of a man as he was, Keiran was loathe to wait until she looked up and saw him. He wasn't sure what she would do if he did. He tossed back and forth the idea of sitting behind her and tugging her into his lap but settled on walking up and leaning against the rail of the stairs instead. Kneeling next to her, he ignored his will to live and extended a hand to touch her hair. “I'm sorry.”

He wasn't sure what he was apologizing for, but it felt like his job to take the defense on this. Whatever he had done must have been pretty bad for her to react like this.

Lifting her shoes up off of the floor, Millie slid the little blue pumps back onto her dainty feet. She rubbed away some of the dirt with her index finger and pursed her lips absently before reaching for her bag which she’d set down beside her when she’d left the apartment. She opened it up and took out a mint, slipping one onto her tongue before packing it back up again and sitting steadily, half-paying attention to and half-ignoring her husband.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing, apologising to me?” She inquired idly, twisting her fingers in amongst themselves in her lap. She sighed, fiddling with the ring on her thumb and frowned again before swivelling around to shoot a pointed look at Kieran, her eyes flexing upwards over her blue-eyed gaze. She shook her head and turned her body after so her feet were up on the same step as her bum.

Ridiculousness that had already afflicted in her set in two-fold then and Millie lowered her gaze, shame pricking pink at her ears. She looked up after a moment and dropped her hands to her sides.

“Sorry,” she mirrored Kieran, an impish, embarrassed smile. “Just can’t be dealing with the distress.”

It was a poor, sorry explanation but she wasn’t even entirely sure of the real one. She wasn’t even sure she could adequately and justly return to the house without feeling even more foolish than she already felt. In fact, she wasn’t entirely sure if she would – or whether she would instead apparate into Diagon Alley and get herself something to do that would fix her mind into a state of comfort. She’d sit in the bookshop perhaps, or help out Elliot in the shop. That would help.

Millie leaned forward and brought her hand around Kieran’s cheek. She smoothed her thumb past his nose and over his eyelid before leaning forward to place a kiss just to the side of his mouth.

“Sorry,” she repeated.

The pair re-entered the kitchen but Avery barely had time to reunite with her friend before he had gone outside after his wife, leaving Robin to question what they had missed while in the bathroom. The absence of the Hayes couple put a slight awkwardness in the kitchen air but he couldn't deny he was fine with another few moments of just him and Avery. While Keiran had been enough of a man to make some form of apology towards Avery, Robin was sure the causes for his anger were as present as ever, whatever they might be.

"Yeah." Robin mumbled somewhat vaguely, opening up a cabinet and producing a mixing bowl. He handed it across to Avery before pulling assorted fruits out of a basket on the counter. Though he often didn't prepare it until noon or later, breakfast was Robin's favorite meal of the day. The fixings for pancakes, eggs, and sausages were always readily stocked even when the shelves lacked more basic foods like pastas or soups. While it would be an event for Robin to attempt and cook chicken but he could whip up crepes in his sleep.

Avery returned from the fridge with arms full of pancake fixings and the pair stood beside each other at the countertop, Avery mixing and Robin cutting. After a moment of work and silence Robin began to laugh lightly to himself. He set down the knife, still chucking like he had gone mad. "I'm sorry." he said with a grin at Avery. "It's just that, well, we look almost normal don't we?" He couldn't help but admire that besides the laws, the fights, and their entire situation they were still making breakfast together. To an outsider they could almost be a traditional couple.

Robin wrapped one arm around Avery's side, rubbing her arm and planting a kiss on the side of her head. "It'll be fine" Robin mumbled into her hair, unintentionally echoing his words in the bathroom. He wasn't quite sure what he meant by 'it' - Keiran? Their match? The fact that their entire lives had been laid out by a few Ministry officials? Maybe all of it. Because even though they were only pretending right now, standing here domestically making breakfast, Robin was still glad it was her who was standing next to him.