But I don't wanna go there and fuck up your night
No, nothing's wrong, I just want to take a walk
Feels like you ask me every time we talk
Do you really wanna know what I'd change about myself?
Do you really wanna know who's been messing with my health?
1st November, 1894 — Lestrange residence, Wellingtonshire
He hadn’t seen the notice in the Prophet until late in the day yesterday, once he’d gotten home and Cee had said something like I didn’t know that.... She wasn’t alone; the news had thrown Theo completely. He had shut himself in his room, his head reeling. Nothing. His owl had come home the night before with nothing in return. (Nothing since the flowers – Christ, had those even been him?)
The newspaper notice had said very little, besides that it was a boy, and he had been born nearly a fortnight ago. Theo hadn’t made up his mind yet whether to be hurt and infuriated by the silence, or just extremely worried about what this must mean for Cash’s state – he had been swinging between both extremes all day, to no resolution yet.
He had stopped by their house first thing that morning, restless and impatient, but the staff at the door had coolly reiterated the line about not accepting calls. Had they actually gone to tell Cash there was someone to see him, or not bothered? Was Cash in no fit state to see anyone, or was he just ignoring him? Theo wished he even knew.
The fears and the restlessness kept climbing in him, so later that day he scrawled out a note and sent his owl back with it, to Cash directly. Ten minutes came and went: he was waiting at the front door. If Cash didn’t let him in now – well, he would just have to figure something else out, because he wasn’t leaving until he saw him.
The newspaper notice had said very little, besides that it was a boy, and he had been born nearly a fortnight ago. Theo hadn’t made up his mind yet whether to be hurt and infuriated by the silence, or just extremely worried about what this must mean for Cash’s state – he had been swinging between both extremes all day, to no resolution yet.
He had stopped by their house first thing that morning, restless and impatient, but the staff at the door had coolly reiterated the line about not accepting calls. Had they actually gone to tell Cash there was someone to see him, or not bothered? Was Cash in no fit state to see anyone, or was he just ignoring him? Theo wished he even knew.
The fears and the restlessness kept climbing in him, so later that day he scrawled out a note and sent his owl back with it, to Cash directly. Ten minutes came and went: he was waiting at the front door. If Cash didn’t let him in now – well, he would just have to figure something else out, because he wasn’t leaving until he saw him.
