Second chances were shit.
This is what Octavius Pepper thought as he marched up the aisle and slumped into his seat, sending the usher away with one succinct and terribly uncharacteristic glare. Octavius was generally very easy-going; it was a point of pride for him, particularly with his infuriating but loving family and the large majority of dunderheads he worked with. Happy as he was for Maggie and this Adrian fellow, the last place he wanted to be right now was at a wedding of a former crush when the former girlfriend he'd kissed and slept with on New Year's Eve had up and left him (in her own home!) the morning after, ignored his attempts to contact her, and then fallen into a coma less than a week later. It somehow put a damper on things. So yes, second chances were shit, and kismet was a bunch of bollocks, and—was that Rose?
Octavius craned his head an unnatural degree, but the blonde head of hair slipped out of his sight too fast. Fine. That was just fine. He crossed his arms in a glower and stared holes into the runner by his feet.
Then, like his black mood had viciously spread, there were people saying the wedding wasn't happening! Looking around with such an expression of guilt, he felt immediately remorseful for his terrible attitude, and yes, all right, there may have been the tiniest bit of secret glee, but he felt even guiltier for that. Just as he was about to file out, he heard Rose's name being shouted from a way's away. Snapping his head around, he saw the witch in question and made a beeline straight for her, catching hold of her wrist as she hurried in the opposite direction.
"'Hi'? he echoed, disbelief evident in his tone and pretty much all across his face. "That's—that's all? That's it?"
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