lestrange, gaultier.

cocktails, dress robes & babies, oh my!

2008-05-31T19:43:57Z

Any and all correspondence with one Cygnus P. Black had come to an abrupt end shortly after the arrival of Cygnus' last owl. Gaultier no longer wished to hear any news in regards to the family he now swore were lower than scum, and Sabine quickly learned to avoid any sort of topic that might turn into a confrontation.

Though Gaultier's anger subsided in the weeks that followed, his focus on his work wavered much more than he would have later liked to admit. And instead of spending hours in front of a desk wrapping up paperwork that desperately needed signed did he seek out his wife -- the ultimate distraction.

Sabine kept him entertained enough, much more than Cygnus had in the previous weeks, and it came as no surprise to either of them when they later learned of her pregnancy. Ecstatic wasn't quite the word Gaultier would have used to describe how he felt on the topic, but it was close enough for him not to care: a son was on the way.

A celebration was needed, and using the guise of a late New Years party, were the invitations quickly dispersed. Sabine was showing by now, and Gaultier was thrilled with the prospect of spreading the important news. Subtly, of course.

lestranged @ 2008-04-16T00:48:00

2008-04-15T22:50:32Z

Rabastan had become the very source of several heated arguments between Gaultier and Sabine: yes, he had fought tooth and nail to get his son through school with the promise of several hundred galleons to the professors who passed him but that did not a man make. All attempts to point this out to his youngest, however, failed and rather miserably so; neither Sabine nor Rabastan would hear it and his son's rigorous (childish) actions continued, in much more force than they had previously. Sabine strongly believed the boy could do no wrong.

With another argument ending with slammed doors and distance between them, Gaultier found himself drowning away his thoughts in a rather giant glass of whiskey. The golden liquid slowly disappeared as the glass was tipped further and further back, one sip after another until it was entirely drained -- drained, a feeling Gaultier was aware of much more recently than he would have liked to admit, a feeling overwhelming him even now.

This is where he'd spend the remainder of his night, seated now behind his desk with a stack of paperwork and another filled glass, as far away as possible from the constant drama that befell both his wife and child.

lestranged @ 2008-03-13T03:03:00

2008-03-13T02:06:18Z

With the time and date agreed upon, a perfect plan had now been set into motion; it was simple really, the gift of a home he and Cygnus could call their own, a home that would give them both the means and opportunity to visit each other more than they had in the past. The gift, however, seemed to be much more thoughtful and caring than Gaultier had anticipated, and not being a man of romance, he spent the day attempting to convince himself it was only a means of privacy, a place hidden away where the fucking could continue for hours without disturbing the neighbours. Of course, in the end, there was no denying the fact Cygnus had grown on him, had become an important part of his life, and perhaps this was a way of showing the man precisely how much he meant.

A heavy sigh escaped slightly parted lips as Gaultier collapsed (rather dramatically, mind) into the nearest chair where he took another long sip of the golden liquid of whiskey that currently filled his glass. It was a gift, from Cygnus, and perhaps that was why Gaultier found himself drinking it. The vile alcohol would have otherwise been locked away with the rest, and left there for an emergency. But this, this was an emergency -- Gaultier was feeling anxious, like a teenager, his stomach twisted into knots. As if Cygnus would deny him, reject the gift .. but still, the thought was there, and it was all Gaultier could do to keep himself from growling out in frustration over the subconscious nagging.

Is it even seven yet?

lestranged @ 2008-03-02T01:27:00

2008-03-02T00:29:05Z

BLACK

I'm in need of ~~your attention~~ some advice, and am hoping you find yourself free enough to give it. Seven tomorrow, yes? Don't be late.

LESTRANGE