Before Alfred could find his voice to try and explain himself Zelda had pushed past him and started talking to Jo herself, which was — crazy and stupid but incredibly like her, and it brought this strange constricted feeling to his chest like his heart was swelling up but hitting something solid. It was hopeless, was the thing, because if Jo wasn't going to listen to him then she certainly wasn't going to listen to Zelda, but he loved her for trying, despite how she felt about Jo. She didn't have any of the context, though, and as soon as she spoke Alfred thought oh, Zelda, this isn't about you at all.
And then Jo said exactly that, and he felt... chastised, a bit, though obviously no one was paying any attention to him to notice. It was just another piece of evidence that they were closer than they ought to have been, that they were thinking the same thing in response to the same statement, and — and he regretted that he'd told her to leave, particularly regretted that he'd phrased it the way that he had, but maybe Jo was right. Maybe it was better if she did leave, because if she stayed, how the hell was he supposed to get through this?
Miss Urquart said something about tea, and Alfred opened his mouth to respond but she was already heading towards the kitchen. He thought maybe he ought to follow her and just pretend nothing was happening, maybe. He could let Zelda and Jo have whatever moment they were going to have on the stairs and not sit here silently witnessing it, and he could deal with the fallout of it whenever he had a chance to deal with the fallout of all the rest of it, and in the meantime maybe at least he could make Miss Urquart feel a little less morbidly uncomfortable about this whole awful situation. So he had decided to go and show her where the tea was, and he had taken one step towards the kitchen when Zelda pulled out her wand. She'd cast before he even fully realized that she'd drawn it, and Alfred was left staring at the girl he was going to marry with wide eyes, a little in awe.
"Holy shit," he said, moving closer to Zelda so that he could try and see what had happened to Jo on the other side of the door.
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER
And then Jo said exactly that, and he felt... chastised, a bit, though obviously no one was paying any attention to him to notice. It was just another piece of evidence that they were closer than they ought to have been, that they were thinking the same thing in response to the same statement, and — and he regretted that he'd told her to leave, particularly regretted that he'd phrased it the way that he had, but maybe Jo was right. Maybe it was better if she did leave, because if she stayed, how the hell was he supposed to get through this?
Miss Urquart said something about tea, and Alfred opened his mouth to respond but she was already heading towards the kitchen. He thought maybe he ought to follow her and just pretend nothing was happening, maybe. He could let Zelda and Jo have whatever moment they were going to have on the stairs and not sit here silently witnessing it, and he could deal with the fallout of it whenever he had a chance to deal with the fallout of all the rest of it, and in the meantime maybe at least he could make Miss Urquart feel a little less morbidly uncomfortable about this whole awful situation. So he had decided to go and show her where the tea was, and he had taken one step towards the kitchen when Zelda pulled out her wand. She'd cast before he even fully realized that she'd drawn it, and Alfred was left staring at the girl he was going to marry with wide eyes, a little in awe.
"Holy shit," he said, moving closer to Zelda so that he could try and see what had happened to Jo on the other side of the door.
MJ made the most Alfredy of sets and then two years later she made it EVEN BETTER