Blinking at Foxwood, Gus wasn’t sure what to expect from him; the ball was in his court, and it would remain there. Trying to figure out where the man’s thoughts and feelings were proved to be an impossible feat - one moment he was sure this was it, this was his Basil from seventh year, the man he’d fallen in love with, and the next moment he wasn’t sure if he was going to be transfigured into a pebble so Basil could toss him into the Black Lake in hopes of never having to deal with him again. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for as he searched the other’s face, although the tiny voice in the back of his reminded him he was just waiting for the disgust that would inevitably cross his face.Revolting.
Impossible.
What good do you bring to any situation, Mr. Lissington?
(The correct is nothing.)
Gus knew then, in that very moment, staying the night in this house wouldn’t be something he could do. He shifted back on the bed to pull himself away from Foxwood, although his body went rigid as the door creaked open. Blue eyes shifted toward it, and he held his breath as he waited for Atticus to burst through the door. Only a fluffy white cat came prancing through before jumping onto the bed, and had Gus not felt his heart beating in his chest so rapidly he wasn’t sure his rib cage would hold it, he may have tossed his head back and laughed. Instead the redhead pressed his hand to his chest.
Basil locked the door as the cat was suddenly in his face, and he pulled in a sharp breath at the proximity, unsure if she was going to bite his nose off - he’d heard of such cats and Gus wouldn’t put it past the man to have found one by accident. Her tail flicked him in the face as she was pulled back and Gus scrunched his nose at the contact before he sat up on the bed and crossed his legs. He eyed them both nervously.
“I didn’t know you liked cats.” He murmured after a moment, his fingers hesitantly brushing against her fur before he curled them against the top of her head. He let his fingers absentmindedly scratch the top of he’d head. She was soft and Gus hummed happily. “She is very pretty. When did you get her?” He tried to recall Basil mentioning a new cat in his letters, but it wasn’t as if he’d poured over them; Gus wasn’t even sure he’d had the energy to read some of them the past few weeks. He pulled his hand back and twisted his fingers into his lap.