(1939-09-16) What Sort of Apology
Details for What Sort of Apology
Summary: Angelus and Evelyn run into each other. While Angelus apologises and explains that family should get along and watch each others back, Evelyn has a hard time believing he's genuine.
Date: September 16, 1939
Location: Training Grounds, Hogwarts

It’s another early start to his day as Angelus takes off in the morning. He’s just finished sending a letter with his owl and is now stepping out into the training grounds for a bit of air before breakfast. Lifting a hand, he flicks his fingers delicately through his blonde locks.

At the other side of the training grounds, opposite her cousin, Evelyn sits with her back resting against one of the archway. Her bag rests against her feet, her gaze toward the sky as she just stares. She needed some alone time. Time to just collect her thoughts before the hustle of the school day starts.

It’s kind of nice to walk along the grounds when no one is really outside. It gives Gel some time to think. His head is lowered, eyes on the ground, as he strolls along. His direction takes him towards Evelyn, but as he sighs out, he turns around to tilt his head back up at the castle, putting his back towards his cousin. The youth doesn’t really think to look behind him as he stares at the castle thoughtfully, walking backwards in the direct line of Evelyn’s bag.

With her gaze finally lowering, deciding she should eat something before class, Evelyn notices a familiar back walking backwards toward her. Clearing her throat, she raises an eyebrow. "Um…you uh…you should pay more attention to…well, where you're going." She says, just loud enough for him to hear.

The voice reaches his ears and Angelus blinks, surprised that anyone else was outside. As he arches a brow, turning around with a conceited look on his face, before he can say anything his foot tangles with the strap of the bag. A sound that sounds as if it could have been an actual word changes mid fall into an ‘ack,’ and Gel trips and thumps to the ground on his behind. “Ah, blimey,” he complains, lifting his hands from behind him as he rubs the grass and dirt from them. “You bag’s in the way, Evie. What are you doing out here?” he asks, frowning at her.

Blinking at her cousin, Evelyn tilts her head. "Do I um…do I know you?" She says in a mock tone of confusion. In yet a mock whisper, she says, "You're umm….well, not a muggle-born who'd dare break the rules by uh…um…well, seeking out a Ravenclaw in an attempt to…well…beg them to teach you some real magic, are you? Because nobody here wants to break the rules." With that, she glares at her cousin and looks away from him.

Angelus stays seated for the moment, his eyes down on his uniform as he works at straightening out his robes, cleaning a spot. He arches a brow and turns his gaze onto Evelyn at her words, craning his head a little to the side. “Blimey, listen to you, you sound just like a blood traitor.” A smirk flicks over his lips, eyes focused on his cousin. “You seem to be fitting well into that role.”

-Refusing to teach a muggle-born magic is to become a blood traitor? Do you ever listen to yourself speak?- Evelyn asks of her cousin, using sign language. And yes, she does seem a little pleased that he fell down. -I got a letter from Uncle saying to keep you and Elet apart. How do you think he'd respond if I told him you called her a mudblood? On one hand, he might say that it doesn't matter. On the other had, he does have businesses to run that, on occasion, require sales to people from all walks of life. He can't have word spreading that one of his children is a purist bigot.-

Angelus’ eyes lock onto his cousin’s hands when they begin to move, frowning as he studies the movements with a concentrated look. Before she finishes, Angelus smirks and speaks out, not falling into sign language himself. “Good,” he states smugly with a roll of his eyes. “She’s absolutely mental; you keep her away from me.” He frowns at her, narrowing his eyes at her in annoyance. He stares at her for several seconds before the expression eases and he releases a heavy sigh, giving his head a shake. “Why are you letting Rosen push you away from family?” He turns his head, looking away from her. “Because as much as you’re being a blind jerk right now, you know I still love you.”

Nudging her cousin with her foot, to make sure he's looking at her, Evelyn waits to sign, making sure he's paying attention. She's not going to speak verbally. Not today. Not if she can help it. -Me? Blind?- The look of disbelief is evident on her face. -I may be many things, but blind is not one of them.- She's not going to say one way or another whether she is a jerk or not. -I'm not doing the pushing. Even if I were, it wouldn't be Elet making me do so. I still love you all. I still enjoy spending time with Megan and Uncle and Auntie and Lan and Dryden. If anyone is pushing anyone away, it is you.- The look of annoyance and anger is evident in her features, not only are her hands moving to speak her words, but her body is moving to express the emotions she feels as she says them. -You essentially insulted me. You insulted my friend. Worst of all, you insulted my parents. Which would be bad enough if they were alive, but that they're dead? That makes you even worse of a human.- It's evident that she's actually tearing up, little pools over water threatening to pool over her eyelids should she blink. -I would NEVER have done that to you. Not in a million years. Not if the end of the world were near.-

A grumble escapes Angelus, but he turns his head back reluctantly to watch her hands. This time he doesn’t interrupt, studying the movements of her hands. He grimaces now and then, or shakes his head, but he doesn’t respond with any words even when she finishes. Instead, he looks away from her again when she’s finished signing, drawing a heavy sigh. “I know,” he murmurs out eventually, frowning. He shifts his royal blue eyes back to her. “That was wrong of me and incredibly disrespectful.” He shifts his position, one knee pulled in and against the grass while the other is lifted. He brings his hands in front of him to sign the rest in a slow sign language, occasionally pausing as he stumbles on a word. ((I knew it when I said it, but then she came in and I wasn’t thinking. She makes me angry when she butts her way into a conversation she isn’t meant to be a part of and you knew it was supposed to be private.)) Angelus sighs again, pausing, and then circling a single fist near the front of his chest in a ‘sorry’ sign. Aloud, he says, “Do you really want to fight with me? Because I don’t want to fight despite our disagreements.”

Evelyn sighs heavily, finally blinking and allowing the few tears to gently fall down her cheeks, sorrow as clear as day falling upon her face, and evident in her now slightly slouched posture. -Don't you see, Gel?- She signs. -I don't WANT to fight. But it's not easy. Besides, Elet came in to defend me. Against what you said about me and my parents. You would have done exactly the same for a friend. Or if someone had said that to a person that you hold dear. She is my friend. And I am hers. Friends who care about each other defend each other.- She shakes her head, frowning. -If I can't trust you to speak even cordially about my parents and my friends, if you can't show that kind of restraint about it, how can you expect me to not butt heads with you?-

Again, Angelus locks his gaze on Evelyn’s hands, watching the words being signed, slowly following along. He frowns deeply, sighing out as he shifts, pushing himself to his feet even as he stays crouched. Eyeing his cousin, he reaches into his robes to pull out a piece of soft cloth and holds it out to her. Either she takes it, or he’ll try to wipe her tears himself, but then he’ll move his hand to rest a hand on her shoulder. “It will never happen again,” he says gently. “I promise you, I’ll never speak about your parents like that again. As for Rosen…” A sigh escapes him. “You defend your friend, but do you defend me against what gibes she sends at me? Evie,” he lets out on a sigh. “Just for you, because I love you and I don’t want you to be hurt, I’ll try harder not to let her comments bother me.” He’ll lean close to his cousin, intending to kiss her cheek. “I’m headed for breakfast. Evie,” he repeats, “you’re my /cousin/. It hurts me when you get hurt.”

Accepting the cloth, Evelyn dabs her cheeks softly. Once she's decidedly pleased that she has dried them enough, she offers the cloth back to Angelus. Her gaze, however, looks away from him. She doesn't know what else to say to him. She wants to believe him, but he's used pretty words before and still fallen back on harshness. She'll have to wait and see. For the time being, however, she remains silent, staring off into the distance.

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