[ Printer Friendly Version ] [ Report Abuse ]
Chapter 1 : Prologue
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 12|
Background: Font color:
When Amelia Winifred Bones woke up on Saturday, September 3, 1968 in an unfamiliar apartment, Fabian Godfrey Prewett was sitting at his desk, just a few feet away in front of the open window. A breeze came through, bringing with it the voices of Diagon Alley and the smell of baking bread and cinnamon as shoppers ate at outdoor cafe tables in the late summer sunshine.
Fabian, however, was oblivious to all this as he was busy pretending to be working on the bookkeeping accounts of Flourish and Blotts. For a few minutes, Amelia just watched him there, from the bed. He was already dressed in a white, v-neck t-shirt, that looked a little thin with age, but still nice and clean, with a pair of brown corduroy pants. Amelia quietly appreciated the movement of his shoulderblades and the muscles of his back and he scribbled in the little notebook. The sunshine lit up the edges of his dark hair, as his desk faced the window. It was rather a pleasant scene, and if Amelia had managed to find her way into it in a way she wasn't so embarrassed by, she would have been content to drift back to sleep, happy to have company. As it was though, Amelia was growing more and more eager to get out of there by the moment.
Not particularly wanting to say anything but desiring her awakening to be known all the same, Amelia yawned as delicately as she could muster, as hungover as she was, and stretched her arms, conscious of how Fabian’s old, baggy, National Potions & Poets Society T-shirt (when had she put that on? She simply could not remember) made them look especially slender and feminine. God forbid, that anyone think that she wasn’t put together at all times: even after a night of drinking and poor decision-making, Amelia didn’t want to appear at all vulnerable. At the sound of this fake yawn, Fabian paused in his fake work and the few inches of his neck above his shirt and below his wavy hair turned a deep pink. He slowly turned around in the old wooden chair.
“Hey,” he said, softly, awkwardly. “I made some coffee. If you'd like some.”
Amelia could not find it in herself to meet his eyes. Staying over at a guy’s flat! And a guy she hadn’t talked to on a regular basis in several years! Someone she had only ever known as a family friend with whom she traded chocolate frog cards.
Had she really gone all the way through Hogwarts and law school without doing one irresponsible thing, only to tarnish her carefully maintained, and squeaky clean conscience once she got home? In her studied avoidance of his eyes (why had she yawned? It would have been so much better to slip away without his noticing!) she saw a few dark bruises near his collarbone. Had she really done that? Amelia had never known herself to be so obnoxiously public about kissing.
“I should really be getting home,” she said suddenly, getting out of bed. “My brother will be up in,” she glanced at her watch, “Merlin’s pants, an hour and a half ago.”
A/N: Hey there here's just the prologue to the start of Breakoff Altitude. It's our first story so apologizes for the cliched start, we promise it was the best way. This isn't going to be a romance novel of just Amelia and Fabian, we promise! We're thinking about concentrating on those two, along with both of their families- especially Gideon. Please come back again, we're already working on the next two chapters!
Hanknittedsweaters - R & M
Other Similar Stories