m a t t i e ❁ (matildas) wrote in valesco,
@ 2009-11-13 23:00:00

Entry tags:

Evan!
It was a rare day in Matilda Mulciber's life. There were no house duties to get done, Johnathan was spending some time with his grandparents, and John was busy at...work. Matilda wasn't sure which 'occupation' her husband actually meant, but she never questioned him when it came to that sort of thing. She would simply wait for him to come home, and that was when she figured out what her husband had been up to.

Not something she really wanted to think about. Today was a free as a bird kind of day, and Matilda was going to use it to visit one of her dearest friends in Evan Rosier. It had felt like years since she and Evan had had a sit down. What with the enormous fight Mackenzie had caused between all of the '77 Slytherins, it felt like, for the first time, they had to walk on eggshells around each other. Matilda had refused to even acknowledge Mackenzie or Emmet, and while she knew Evan had some ridiculous soft spot for her former best friend, Matilda would just blame it on some unrequited love thing he'd had long developed.

"Evan!" Matilda let out loudly as she knocked, "Evan, dear, I have baked goods I need to set down!"

Baked goods that she had bought from a bakery around the corner, but that detail did not matter! She bounced slightly, glad to be out of the house.

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obtineo
2009-11-14 05:56 am UTC (link)

While it was a rare day in Matilda’s life, it was also a rare day in Evan’s….but for much different reasons. It was the kind of day that only comes once in a lifetime…and that’s what worried him. He knew what he had to do that day, where he had to be, who he was meeting with…but he didn’t know what he was walking into. He had no idea that such monumental orders were going to be handed to him. This was…big. Bigger than any other orders he had been given in the past. They all seemed like cakewalks in comparison.

But he couldn’t fail him. He couldn’t fail the Dark Lord, not when he had selected him to do something so important. So…imperative to their cause.

That didn’t mean he handled it well, once he was home. When he was finally alone, and had no one staring at him, expecting so much from him, he started pacing…and it wasn’t long before he started to pour himself shot after shot of vodka. At one point, he had even taken a seat at the grand piano that was situated in his sitting area…something he rarely ever did, but found himself staying there for quite some time.

His slender digits found their way across the ebony and ivory keys. The notes of Fur Elise rang beautifully through the air. He was always an excellent player…but it had been years since he had actually played. His concentration was focused solely on the music, until his finger slipped do to a disruptive yell. He looked over to the hallway that came before his door, shutting his eyes momentarily as he recognized the voice. It was Matilda. And he felt his stomach twist uncomfortably at the thought of her friend seeing him in this shape…but if he knew Matilda, she would break down his door before she just let him ignore her presence. He grabbed his wand from on top of the piano and quietly cleared his throat, unlocking the door from where he was sitting instead of getting up. She probably heard the several clicks and clanks of the locks being undone, and the sound of a few charms fading away. He just hoped she’d let herself in, since he was in no state to get up at the moment.

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matildas
2009-11-14 06:17 am UTC (link)

She stood outside the door for a few seconds, waiting for it to open and to be greeted like she was supposed to be. When that didn't happen, Matilda puffed up in annoyance and pushed forward through the door. What a gentleman Evan Rosier was. It was probably that child he had been dating, ruining all of his good social skills and manners. Matilda wondered when he would get over the little girl, but it seemed to be a lost cause, getting Evan to listen to any word of advice she might have for him.

"You know, I don't think I'm going to allow you to have any of this cake," she said snootily, placing it on one of the long tables of the entrance way. Matilda pulled off her scarf and lazily hung it on a hanger, taking her time with removing her jacket and other winter wear. If Evan was going to be rude and not even say hello, then she was going to torture him with an elongated visit.

Not that anyone should find her visits torturous, but Matilda knew how to intentionally over welcome her stay.

She finally spotted him at the piano, and Matilda stood in the doorway of the room for a moment to examine him. Something was not right with Evan, she could tell that immediately, and it wasn't the typical broodiness she was used to seeing from the man. No, something seriously wrong had occurred, and the look on his face reminded her of John, on those nights where he would come home from things so terrible he could not bear to look at her. Matilda felt her heart clench and she looked at the ground before taking the few steps toward the piano and sitting delicately on the bench beside Evan.

"Tell me," she softly demanded, her eyes boring into the side of Evan's face.

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obtineo
2009-11-14 06:36 am UTC (link)

It hadn’t even occurred to him that Matilda had never seen that look on his face before. She had never been around on those nights; those nights where he would come home and not even be able to look at himself. He believed in what he was fighting for, and would do whatever his Dark Lord commanded of him…but that didn’t mean sometimes the cries didn’t get to him. That often times, when he had murdered women and children, and they would cry and sob and beg him for mercy, scream and plead for him to spare them…but received nothing but a quick death as a sign of pity. They were beneath him, all of them in some way or another…but that sound. The sound of women crying…the sound of people making that noise because of him…that was what got to him.

As she sat down on the bench beside him, he let his fingertips graze along the tops of the piano keys, although he didn’t play anything. He just let her stare at him, looking down at what he was touching before he finally spoke.

“…I can’t remember the last time I played…”

The words weren’t what she wanted to hear, but at the moment he was sort of in his own little world. He didn’t care about what she wanted to hear. His voice didn’t even sound like his own. It was quiet, low, and a little gravelly.

“…it must have been…years ago.”

He paused before he finally turned to face her. His eyes were pretty glassy, since he was fairly drunk by this point. “...do you play?” He asked before he turned back to look at the piano. “…I thought I’d forgotten how…”

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matildas
2009-11-14 07:08 am UTC (link)

It was strange to not have any words, but Matilda found herself making an odd sound as she attempted to formulate a response. Even though she was sitting right in front of it, the piano was the last thing she thought Evan would speak about. Did she play? Yes, any proper young woman did, and she nodded slowly, twisting her body as her hands rose to the keys. What did she even know how to play? Lullabies for Johnathan, really, and she only did that when John wasn't anywhere within earshot.

She took in a breath through her nose and began a version of "Ode to Joy" she'd learned a long time ago. It was quiet and pretty, something that the silence of the house seemed to need. Matilda didn't know if this is what Evan needed, but he seemed intent on speaking about the piano so...she'd play. It couldn't do much harm, could it? Whatever as on his mind, did not feel like it could be fixed with a simple bit of piano playing, but she had found him sitting there, so...

Matilda silently wished that she knew what to do. She was terribly good at listening to people because she loved to absorb every last detail of everything, but actually giving advice and helping was not her forte. No, that was Mackenzie, but Mackenzie had abandoned them all for her mudbloods. Even if Evan managed to somehow look past that, Matilda could not, and she wanted to be the one that helped him because she was the friend who chose her initial loyalties over everything else.

She finished with little flourish and dropped her hands to her lap. "Johnathan stops crying when I begin to play." Usually.

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obtineo
2009-11-14 07:42 am UTC (link)

The wordless response was unusual, especially when it came from Matilda. There wasn’t a female amongst their tight-knit group who just let things slide, but Matilda…she was the pushiest of them all. She was the one who would sit there and keep slinging questions in your direction until you just caved in. But this time…she didn’t even question him. She didn’t say a word, but lifted her small hands, causing him to slide his away, dropping them down to his lap as he watched her digits dance gracefully along the white and black keys. The song she started to play was completely different than anything he had been playing so far…but in some way, maybe because he was so drunk, it made him feel…something. It was indescribable, but he was feeling something other than pure misery. He was sure that was her intentions, so he just sat and listened, not saying a word until she had finished, though it took him a few moments before he started speaking again.

“…what I wouldn’t give...to have no worries, like a child. To have it only take a song to make everything better again.” He let out a humorless laugh, looking at the spot on the instrument where the music would be. “…nowadays, it takes much more than a song.”

Tilting his head down, he set his hands on the keys again, moving his fingers onto certain chords. “My mother was who taught me how to play…” They pressed down on the keys, and started playing the beginning of a much more…eerie sounding song. It was Chopin’s Nocturne no.20, though he started out a bit slow, just to try to remember what he was doing. “I had tutors, when I was older…the first, she put a hex on the keys, so that I would feel a prick every time my finger slipped…” he continued on with the song, “…my fingers bled through most of the first session…but my father was more worried about the stains…and the tutor, of course…” More of that beautiful music was heard, and it was a while longer until he spoke of course. “…my father never thought I knew why I was to practice for at least an hour a day on my own.” For him to be talking about this, he had to be pretty shit faced…but it was better than talking about what he was trying not to think about. “…they’d always disappear…but they didn’t know I knew.” Another long pause between words. “That I knew that each new tutor meant a new toy for my father to play with…”

The words lingered out in the open before he yet again let out another humorless laugh. “…I find it ironic…that I learned to play because of his wife…and his whores.”

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matildas
2009-11-14 08:00 am UTC (link)

Each note that passed was another second that Matilda held her breath. She was intrigued and terrified at was was going on, and she couldn't find a medium that would allow her to absorb it all. Evan was doing everything he could to avoid what was really happening, there was no way that he would let slip, accidentally the stories about his father. Matilda had always found the senior Rosier to be charming, overly so...and now she understood why, and her heart sank deeper into her chest.

For Evan to tell her something of that magnitude...Matilda knew she wasn't the brightest of their circle of friends, or the most trustworthy because of her penchant for gossip. For him to divulge such things meant that he simply did not care who knew anymore. He did not care if his secrets were slipped and talked about, Evan Rosier did not care. His cold exterior often gave the impression that he was heartless and emotionless, but Matilda knew first hand of the things he would do for those he kept close to him.

God, what had happened?

Feeling useless once again, because she could no way find the silver lining in any of his words or current situation, Matilda chose to show Evan that she too knew the betrayal of a loved one. To show that he could trust her, because she knew exactly what it was to feel that pain.

"I used to play for my brother, not...Thorfinn," she said, staring down at the keys. Matilda knew that only her family and John knew of her eldest brother, and she felt her heart begin to speed up as she had never found speaking of Mattias easy. "He was Kissed long before I was born, and my parents had him...living, if you could...say that, in an empty wing of our home."

Feeling utterly depressed for so many reasons, her shoulders slumped. "I'm sure Thorfinn killed him a few months ago, to get his part of the inheritance."

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obtineo
2009-11-14 08:32 am UTC (link)

He never looked away from the piano as she spoke…but he was listening. Even if it didn’t seem that way, he was hearing every word she said, and it was only when she dropped that last bit of information did he pause. His fingers rested on the last chord he had played, and shifted slowly into the position required for the next. “…no matter the reason…after being Kissed he didn’t have much of an existence…” The next chord was played.

“…they were just holding on to a corpse with a beating heart…”

The sentence left his lips before he could even comprehend how much they might have hurt her, but once he realized what he had actually said, he looked over to Matilda, now sitting in silence. “…I’m sorry.” For Evan to apologize anything, instead of just insinuating it, was another rare thing. He had to truly mean it to say it.

Before they could sit in silence for much longer without going crazy, he started to idly move his fingers from key to key, playing a minor scale. He let the last note linger for quite some time. “I never knew you had any other siblings…although I’m sure that was intentional. When you have information you’d like to share…it travels fast.” He started to play another song, focusing on that for a moment before his mouth twitched into a small, crooked smirk. “You’ve known things about people before they knew themselves…” He continued to play the new song, which was just as dreary if not more than the first. It was Moonlight Sonata, and it sounded flawless. Sad, eerie…and flawless, thanks to all his piano lessons.

“…sometimes I fear you’ll discover something about me before I’m ready for you to know…something about my family, something about…what I’ve done.” His thoughts drifted away as he continued to play…but his finger slipped. He stared down at the keys, and instinctively started over. He couldn’t mess up. He had to play it perfectly…didn’t he? That’s how it had always been…so why should that change now?

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matildas
2009-11-15 06:49 am UTC (link)

The anger she once had at people (Thorfinn, it was only ever Thorfinn) reminding her that Mattias had 'died' long ago didn't have a chance to resurface as Evan apologized. Matilda quickly wiped a few loose tears away and she felt herself slumping even more. It felt like a dream, being so happy just a few minutes before. Matilda felt like she could never be happy again, and she still had no idea what exactly it was that seemed to be sucking the life out of Evan.

Maybe it was nothing, and because Evan was so used to hiding his feelings, having been caught in a state left him vulnerable and confused. Maybe he and Cecilia had broken up, maybe this was his first real heart break. Matilda wanted to believe it was something simple like that, she was nearly forcing herself to get rid of all the terrible thoughts that were swarming through his mind, to make herself believe it was simply the end of a relationship. That she could do, that she could help with.

But even in her oblivious mind, Matilda knew it was something more. Something so terrible that Evan was scared she may find out and tell people about, if she felt the need. Matilda had the strong feeling that this was not going to be something she'd ever want to speak of.

Her hand rose quickly and she stopped his from continuing over the keys, "Tell me," she said again.

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obtineo
2009-11-15 07:50 pm UTC (link)

Feeling her hand against his own made him freeze up, although there was a momentary look of genuine confusion that crossed over his features; like he couldn’t figure out what caused the music to stop. His eyes focused down on their hands, quietly thinking about what he was going to say. What was he going to say? What could he say, without her getting more upset than she was now? What if he was just…overreacting? He knew he wasn’t, but he wanted to think he was for Matilda’s sake.

How was he going to explain to someone who had been by his side through thick and thin, that this time…there was absolutely nothing she could do to help? That this time, he was completely on his own? Even in his highly intoxicated state, he couldn’t bring himself to be nearly as blunt about it as he had been with all of the other bits of information he had revealed to her. It was partially because he hadn’t talked about it to anyone yet…and doubted he ever would, had Matilda not shown up when she did. He was caught off guard, and hadn’t the time to prepare for a situation like this…he didn’t think anyone would question him about it so soon.

His eyes met hers for the first time since he had last turned to face her, and as soon as he saw the tears in her eyes, his stomach dropped. Seeing the women he cared about crying was something that cut through him like a knife, especially when he was the one responsible…and often times, he was.

“Even if I wanted to…I wouldn’t know how.” He continued to look at her, his mismatched eyes staring into hers, even though he seemed to be a million miles away. His hand remained where it was, trapped beneath her smaller, more delicate one.

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