Pietro Django Maximoff Ϟ Quicksilver (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
superspeeds) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
capeandcowllogs2012-08-19 10:19 pm
superspeeds) wrote in capeandcowllogs2012-08-19 10:19 pm
Entry tags:
you'd be so good to come home to
WHO: Mr. & Mrs. Maximoff
WHERE: Some semi-fancy Italian place on Fulton Street, I don't even know.
WHEN: Backdated to Tuesday night.
WARNINGS: Talk of marital problems, alcoholism, and Pietro being an ass.
SUMMARY: The warnings also work as a summary, tbh.
FORMAT: Para to start and then whatever!
True to his word, Pietro had kept away. Bobbi had been quick to offer the couch in the mansion's east wing (he suspected there was an available room or two, but she found it funnier to force him into one of the more common areas), and one night he even dusted off his old MAC apartment, to find it not much different than the way he'd left it almost two years ago now. He probably could have asked Gemma as well, but it seemed cruel to put her in the middle of everything again. How many times had she dealt with the impending collapse of his personal life since they'd become acquainted, anyway? Too many times for Pietro to keep a proper count, to be sure.
The run down from the school had passed quietly, but not awkwardly. There was enough familiarity in the act of picking Angelica up and carrying her through the bustling streets of the Bronx and then Manhattan that there wasn't much need for conversation. Besides, it wasn't as though anything could be heard over the rush of the wind and the roar of the traffic anyway. As such, the first time Pietro found himself truly at a loss that evening was when it was too late to back out. They were standing, waiting for the hostess to find them a table in the tiny restaurant. Why she had to leave to do that, Pietro would never know, the entire place could be seen from the entrance. However, without her there with a rehearsed greeting, and canned, generically pleasant comment regarding the whether, he didn't know how to fill the empty space. So he settled for fidgeting. First with the two keys in the pocket of his slacks, and then a menu abandoned on the counter. Above all, he tried to avoid considering how long this meant that the night would likely drag on. It wasn't a particularly pleasant thought.
WHERE: Some semi-fancy Italian place on Fulton Street, I don't even know.
WHEN: Backdated to Tuesday night.
WARNINGS: Talk of marital problems, alcoholism, and Pietro being an ass.
SUMMARY: The warnings also work as a summary, tbh.
FORMAT: Para to start and then whatever!
True to his word, Pietro had kept away. Bobbi had been quick to offer the couch in the mansion's east wing (he suspected there was an available room or two, but she found it funnier to force him into one of the more common areas), and one night he even dusted off his old MAC apartment, to find it not much different than the way he'd left it almost two years ago now. He probably could have asked Gemma as well, but it seemed cruel to put her in the middle of everything again. How many times had she dealt with the impending collapse of his personal life since they'd become acquainted, anyway? Too many times for Pietro to keep a proper count, to be sure.
The run down from the school had passed quietly, but not awkwardly. There was enough familiarity in the act of picking Angelica up and carrying her through the bustling streets of the Bronx and then Manhattan that there wasn't much need for conversation. Besides, it wasn't as though anything could be heard over the rush of the wind and the roar of the traffic anyway. As such, the first time Pietro found himself truly at a loss that evening was when it was too late to back out. They were standing, waiting for the hostess to find them a table in the tiny restaurant. Why she had to leave to do that, Pietro would never know, the entire place could be seen from the entrance. However, without her there with a rehearsed greeting, and canned, generically pleasant comment regarding the whether, he didn't know how to fill the empty space. So he settled for fidgeting. First with the two keys in the pocket of his slacks, and then a menu abandoned on the counter. Above all, he tried to avoid considering how long this meant that the night would likely drag on. It wasn't a particularly pleasant thought.
no subject
Angelica placed a hand firmly on Pietro's shoulder to steady him and urge away the fidgets. It was something she'd done hundreds of times in the past, but for some reason the act seemed strange to her now. The lack of real contact between them in the last few months left her feeling very lonely. Even simple things like a brief touch between them or sustained eye contact seemed new and awkward. She hated feeling like that, feeling uncomfortable around the man who knew her best of all.
Most of all she didn't like the nervous anticipation that was bubbling up inside of her. A month ago, before Pietro had sent Tony after her, she might have locked up those negative feelings with a bottle of wine and a night out with Gemma and Felicia. But this last month had changed her. She couldn't ignore her issues with alcohol any longer. Her irresponsible behavior had endangered her marriage, Calvin's well being, and put the school into a precarious predicament. She wanted to do better. She'd been given a second chance when her cancer had gone into remission, and wasting it away in a drunken stupor was the last thing she truly wanted to do. Though, really, a drink did sound like an excellent way to deal with Pietro's overbearing, sometimes boorish behavior.
Looking at her husband through the corners of her eyes, she reached for his hand as the hostess finally led them to their seats.