(no subject)

[clumsy_auror]

Distractions are a positive thing.

Books are somewhat helpful, but her attention keeps wandering; the television or music are even less effective. Doing something with her hands is a definite improvement, so Nymphadora's sitting on the couch with a scrap of fabric, a spool of thread, a needle, and her wand in her hand. She's practicing the sewing spells Molly taught her.

As a concession to Bernard's nerves, there's a blanket tucked around her legs, and a cup of tea on the table in front of her.

Comments

[clumsy_auror]

The demon's outright gestures of affection are rare enough, but they're familiar to Nymphadora all the same. A tiny smile pulls at her mouth, a genuine one, and she curls closer, her hand reaching up to briefly catch hold of his where it rests at her shoulder.

"So tell me something cheerful."

[aj_crawley]

"Cheerful," he muses. "Cheerful..."



"Damn, no, okay, I'll think of something in a second..."

[clumsy_auror]

For a moment Crowley might think that she's crying, from the way her shoulders shake. But then 'Dora looks up at him, and she's laughing too hard to make much of a sound. "We're pathetic," she finally wheezes, thumping her fist affectionately into Crowley's thigh.

[aj_crawley]

"It's the season," he insists, his own mouth twitching at the corners as his bemused (but pleased) grin fights a losing battle against 'Dora's infectious laughter. "I can't be expected to be a harbinger of joy and fucking good cheer at the best of times, but especially not when it's cold and pissing rain all the time."

[clumsy_auror]

"Now how can you resist the good cheer wrought by this fine cup of holiday gingerbread tea?" demands Nymphadora with mock indignity, pointing at Crowley's mug.