He could feel his heart sink at her words. How could that child do that to her? Ruin her perception of anything that could – should – be positive and throw it to the dirt like it was some unwanted gift. His parents weren’t like that and if they were anything to go by, emotions were a strange and wonderful thing. They were also, as he was experiencing, dangerous and destructive.

“I need some rum,” he said quietly as he moved to one of the kitchen cabinets and opening it in search of a bottle, “please don’t say there’s no rum in this house.”

---

  

Again, he was catching Emmline off guard. One minute he'd been all but yelling at her and then he was going through the cabinets and asking about rum. She didn't know what to think.

"I don't know," she said with a shrug, "I was never a drinker until that night either, remember." She watched him for a few moments before motioning to one of the cabinets on the ground nearer to the back door. "Check that one," she said quietly, "It's the one my father's in most often."

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#LovelyLadySet

Opening the cabinet without so much as responding, Charles looked and pulled out a small bottle of rum. He then moved over to another cabinet and opened it, looking for a glass. It took him a moment but he’d found one and no sooner as he did, did he slump on one of the chairs at the table.

Staring at the table as he poured the drink, Charles downed it in one and poured himself another. And then downed that too. At his third, he practically slammed the bottle down and spoke without turning his head, “Why are you so infuriating?”

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Emmeline could do nothing but stare at him in shock as he slammed down three shots of the rum he'd found in quick succession. How in Merlin's beard to people manage to do that? She'd nearly fallen out of her chair after the ones she's taken. But then his question caused her to frown at him.

She didn't move though, she stayed were she was leaning against the counter. She at least stopped fidgeting with her hands somewhat and crossed them over her chest instead. "No one's making you stay," she said with the same quiet voice as before, "No one's making you put up with me."

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#LovelyLadySet

Charles looked up at her and downed another shot of his rum, his eyes drifting down to her crossed arms and then back up to meet her gaze, “I never said I want to leave. And there’s nothing to put up with,” he tried to say as dismissively as he could.

He still hadn’t figured out what exactly he was feeling toward Emmeline but he knew, at this point, he didn’t want to be too far from her. Even if they were arguing.

“You’re just being pouty.”

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Emmeline laughed. A short bark of laughter if it could even be considered that as she shook her head. She still wasn't going to come closer though. She didn't know what the hell was going on but she needed to stay back for the time being.

"I'm pouting?" she asked, a mocking tone to her voice, "You're the one downing a bottle of rum." If that wasn't pouting, she didn't know what was.

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#LovelyLadySet

Charles smiled a little at her response. At least, despite her tendency to annoy him, she had a nice smile.

“That’s not the same as pouting,” He smiled with a slight smirk and slid the bottle across the table, “It’s a lot better than firewhiskey.”

Drinking was one of his only releases and he knew it could spiral though, in her company, he felt he could drink and not allow that spiral to take root. He was still in control for the time being. Perhaps it was her that was making him feel somewhat grounded. Perhaps not. Whatever it was, Charles thought, at least he was with her right now.

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Emmeline raised a brow at his response. "Sure looks like pouting from where I'm standing," she said though shook her head slightly as he said it was better than firewhiskey. She didn't really care to try.

"I'm sure it's not hard being better than firewhiskey," she added, still watching him from where she was standing, "I don't really care to find out. Alcohol has caused plenty of problems for me in recent weeks. Who is to say it won't cause more?" And she truly believe that. He may not be Mr. Whitledge, but she didn't like the feeling of not being in control of herself which was exactly what had happened in the Three Broomsticks.

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#LovelyLadySet

“From where you’re stood with that pout on your face, Ems?” He smiled softly. She did have a nice pouty face, though.

Though Charles couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by her rejection of alcohol, he wasn’t going to press. If she didn’t want to have a drink, she wouldn’t. But, he didn’t want to let it go that easily all the same, “I won’t let it cause more,” he shrugged and reached for the bottle, pouring another.

This time, however, he slid the glass to her instead of the bottle. Perhaps he was going to press just a little more.

“If he tainted those things, then I’ll… untaint it.”

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Emmeline couldn't help but to smile as he called her Ems. It was refreshing and comfortable despite the full blown argument they'd just had. It was almost as if, with that one word, the slate was wiped clean again. She did, however, raise a brow once more when he poured the glass and slid it in her direction.

She pushed away from the counter and closed the short distance to the table. But, instead of sitting in the chair, she pushed herself up onto the table, crossing her feet at the ankle and swinging them slightly from where she sat. "I'll hold you to that," she said simply before she grabbed the glass and raised it to her lips. She stopped to sniff it first though, crinkling her nose.

"This smells awful," she said, looking to him with a grimace but yet to actually drink the shot.

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#LovelyLadySet

“I hope you do,” he said with a more upbeat tone than he’d had a few moments prior. It was nice to be calmer once again and to see her smile. It was more than refreshing; it was comforting.

He watched as she sniffed the drink and commented on it, “Tastes terrific, though,” the Hit Wizard said as he placed his hand on her leg briefly – with the intent of reassuring her. After a few moments, he’d moved his hand to grab the bottle and took a swig off it.

“Just drink it all and you won’t taste it, anyway.” Charles spoke with a sort of tease as if he was trying to challenge her.

Once she was finished with the glass, empty or not, Charles lulled his head slightly to the left; his eyes moving briefly to watch her legs swinging before he looked back up at her, leaning back in his chair, “Have you had any more thoughts into your career then, Ems?”

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Emmeline's nose was still wrinkled as she considered the drink of rum in her hand. She didn't believe him. The firewhiskey had been awful even when she had drank it all in one fell swoop. But for whatever reason, she was a glutton for punishment and she did as he'd said. Mainly to try and avoid the way she had felt when he'd reached out and patted her leg.

She grimaced when it was done, nearly gagging at the taste, as she quickly set it on the table and shook her head. "That's awful," she said quickly shuddering slightly.

Once her composure was regained though she gave him a bit of a shrug in response. "Not a lot," she said simply, "A lot depends how I do on my NEWTs and that won't be until next summer."

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#LovelyLadySet

Charles chuckled lightly at her blatant disgust at the drink. She was young, he’d surmised, and so couldn’t appreciate what real alcohol was like. What good alcohol was like. He didn’t bother commenting – he thought it best to allow her to savour her drink. And so he did; he poured another the moment she was done and took a swig from the bottle.

“You’ll be fine in your NEWTs, Ems. You’re a lot smarter than me and even I came out of Hogwarts with some,” of course a huge factor of it was money though he didn’t mind too much. He was kind of in his dream job and kind of was more than not at all which was something he was more than happy to live with.

“I’m sorry about my outburst,” Charles said, frowning a little. He was sorry though if there wasn’t alcohol in his system, he likely wouldn’t have apologised or even mentioned it again.

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[Post]Emmeline's fingers wrapped around the glass after he had filed it again. It was something of a reflexat that point but this time she didn't down it in one drink. It wasn't a small sip but it also wasn't enough to finish it.

"I guess it could be worse," she said after though still with a crinkled nose, "At least it doesn't burn."

She glanced at him as he apologized. He was frowning but she felt as if he at least meant it. "And I'm sorry for calling you stupid," she said, still looking at him as she finished the last of the drink, "But you're still confusing as hell."

  

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#LovelyLadySet

“Exactly!” He said, slapping his hand on the table and taking another hearty swig of the rum. He then smiled one of the softest smiles he’d managed in a long while. The way she crinkled her nose had his stomach in knots, and not in any way other than a comfortable and assured kind of way.

“So are you,” He said, the smile unfaltering on his lips, “I just don’t like that…” He sighed, taking another swig before putting the bottle back down, “you know, Miss Woodcroft, it doesn’t matter. When are your parents expected to be home? Hopefully not for a few hours,” He shrugged a little, looking at the table, “I rather enjoy talking with you.”

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Emmeline jumped when he slapped his hand on the table simply cause she hadn't expected it. She ended up up laughing as a result. A carefree and sweet sort of laugh that made her eyes water a little and resulted in her wiping at them with the back of her hand.

She let go whatever it was he had planned to say. She didn't want up argue anymore. With anyone. "I'm not sure," she said with a shrug, "When I turned seventeen last year they quit telling me everything they did and haven't really bothered with making sure I'm chaperoned. I'm expected to get a job Like any other working class girl."

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#LovelyLadySet