These rules are meant to break us all. {For James}

[chasingtwisters]

Moira shows up to James' cottage with a peace offering of wine and the undisclosed item of interest she'd promised to bring tucked away in one of her old school bags. For once, her hair is pulled back in a tight bun, and she's dressed in slacks and a sweater, a sure sign that whatever she has to discuss with James, it's of a most pertinent and significant matter.

Early evening casts the woods in a slightly dimmer glow of sunlight, giving the area around James' place a rather ethereal glow. A good conduit for magic, she notes, taking in the wildflowers and brambles framing James' yard. It's dangerous, letting herself relax in the nature of this place. Someone might see her and start asking all sorts of uncomfortable questions. She shakes her head, dispelling the last of her curious gaze as she sets her face to a more determined, less open expression.

She hesitates a minute more, wondering what the hell she's getting herself into, before she knocks.

Comments

[jamesthorn]

For two hours, James has been undeniably fretting over Moira's visit. Part of him wished he could take back the words he whispered to her last night as now in the light of day, with fresh eyes and less wine, he believes inviting a Coombs into his home on purpose was a mistake. The other part is fretting over the idea of company in his house unable to stamp down the Thornton propensity for dinner parties even though he himself hates them.

Should he clean something? Straighten the books on the shelves? Probably. None of these things though, he is actually capable of doing because he is on crutches and exhausted by just getting up and down the stairs. Plus he also feels ridiculous because Moira is coming over for business matters. Not consorting.

But he still changes his t-shirt into a half-decent looking pullover that June had bought him last Christmas. And he sends for the kitchen staff at the main house to bring over food--something simple he'd said. So there was a vinaigrette salad on the counter and a tomato basil penne pasta keeping warm in the oven. As the delicious smell of Italian permeated the house, he started to feel idiotic for the food too.

It's a really good thing Moira finally shows up when she does or he would've lose it. Despite the energy zap, he is getting around better on his crutches. So it doesn't even take him long to grab the door. He takes one final breath before opening it, knowing that what he meant to tell her, he'd never told anyone else. But he it was time, and he hoped that something good would come of it.

He opens the door to allow her in. "Hey," he says. "Um. I didn't know if you'd show up or not."