happilyeverbeginning | There's a strange exhilaration / In such total detestation (scrooge x magica)

Entry tags:

There's a strange exhilaration / In such total detestation (scrooge x magica)

Magica's fingers strummed on the desk. Without her phone, she was bored as sin. Her long nails made clacking sounds on the desk, echoing in the empty classroom. Once she got her phone back, the school would pay dearly for this. You didn't give detention to Magica De Spell! So what if she was texting in class? It wasn't like she was learning anything important. They should feel privileged she was there.

But nooo, miss whats-her-face actually reported her to the principal, and here she was. She grumbled, glaring at the clock - time moved way too slowly when you were being punished. How could this get any worse?

The door opened, and she straightened up - maybe someone had used their few brain cells and knew to get her out of there. Nope - instead, things did indeed get worse as she saw one of the teachers shoving Scrooge McDuck into the room.

Great. Fantastic. Add to her punishment, why don't you. She rolled her eyes, leaned back into her seat and propped her legs on the desk.

"What did they send you in here for?" She sneered. "Is being a buzzkill a crime now?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He stared at her for a long moment, gauging her intentions carefully.

"...Let's see how long it takes to get you back to your house first. That way you don't have to go to any trouble over putting me up for the night if it's not too late to catch the bus. Deal?"

"Deal." Just enough time for her to hide the photos, which she began to do.

"But it's not exactly an inconvenience. We have more guest rooms than we know what to do with, my parents are out at some party, and Poe only comes home when he needs to crash from a hangover."

"How do you not get lost in a house that size?" Scrooge asked. For once, it wasn't a snarky question.

"By only going to rooms you need." Why visit areas she never needed, like guest rooms or the trophy room or the home theater?

Scrooge had no response to that one other than to sigh and shake his head. He had goals to become one of the wealthy's number, but he had a feeling he would never understand how they thought.

Instead, he folded his arms on the back of the seat in front of them, resting his chin on his arms.

The bus ride continued in silence, with Magica thinking how it could go. She could bribe the snottier servants to forget what they'd seen, and have him leave early with the chauffeur. Scrooge wouldn't tell anyone - and, if by some circumstance, he did... who would believe him? This could actually work.

So could "accidentally" forgetting to lock her door and "accidentally" forgetting to wear anything to bed. Just in case.

"...I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that's your house up ahead."

Scrooge pointed at the mansion with "DS" on the front gates. The house was massive...and kind of an eyesore if he had to be honest.

Magica glanced up.

"Ah, yes. Home sweet home." She reached up to let the bus driver know to stop soon. "So are you coming or going?"

"Unless you've got a people mover on your driveway that can just carry you to your room, I'm coming with to make sure you get settled in, remember?" Scrooge said dryly as he got up from his seat. He reached out a hand to help her up and off the bus.

"It's in the repair shop."

It was dangerously difficult to tell if she was kidding or not. She leaned on him as she got up, hobbling along off the school bus.

Getting her down the steps was the trickiest part. Luckily, they both knew he was more than strong enough to carry her if she hopped off the bus into his arms. It would look weird but at least it wouldn't be putting much stress on her bad ankle.

She would have to unlock the gate, of course. It wasn't as if he had access to this...palace.

At the gate, Magica pressed a button on the intercom.

"It's Magica... and a guest."

"Yes, Miss De... a guest?"

A roll of the eyes. "Just let me in, Jeeves."

After a moment, there was a loud BUZZ, before the gates began to swing backward.

"You want me to just carry you or would you prefer leaning on me to walk?" he asked, feeling that he should at least give her the opportunity to save some of her dignity.

Ugh. Dammit. Of course she wanted to be carried by him and feel like a princess, but she couldn't afford the help seeing that.

"Leaning is fine. Let's go, the door will be open when we get there."

"Leaning it is."

It would be slow-going, of course, but at this point there was nothing to be done about it. At least this wouldn't be like the path at the park.

Every step was another disgusting display of how rich she was - luxurious gardens, a fountain, he may or may not have seen some peacocks roaming about.

At last they made it to the door, and it almost looked bigger on the inside than it did the outside. But it was... quiet. Disturbingly quiet. As if there was barely any life to it at all. Bare, too - too much room for a small family. The footsteps echoed across hallways.

Scrooge didn't say anything at first, taking everything in and trying not to shiver. This place felt...unnatural.

"Does it always feel like there's an axe murderer to be stalking the halls somewhere or is that just something you get used to?"

"You don't get invited to many people's houses, do you?" Although she had no right to think he was being rude, considering who she was.

"My room's down the first hall, to the left, third door."

"What was your first hint?" Scrooge retorted dryly as he started moving in the appropriate direction. "In any case, I've never been in a building this big without hearing at least Ms. Rochester on the second floor screaming at Mrs. Johnson to make her twins stop crying."

As they went along, Scrooge had plenty of opportunities to glance by open doors. Trophies, fancy silverware, books that went unread, gigantic TVs...

"You make it sound like you have no friends at all." Which was depressingly plausible.

Scrooge didn't respond which in and of itself was an answer. Why spend time around a guy that the "royalty" of high school didn't like? If you wanted to survive the high school social ladder, you followed the crowd.

His fingers itched to crack open one of the pristine hardbound books. You didn't need friends when you had those to take you away from everything. Besides, these were just decorations sitting around. Nobody would notice if he just--

He shut the thought down, killing it before it could take root. Make it square.

Magica didn't press the issue further, which was probably the best for both of them. She found herself not wanting to talk about her own friends... which were few and far-between. Bonds were easily broken in the fervent game of popularity. How many people did she actually trust?

At last, they arrived at Magica's room, which was only open by a crack. It was too dark to see what was inside, but there was a smell of incense - and a quiet flapping of wings.

"... Time to make your choice." She said, offering him her phone again if he wanted it. "Stay the night, or trek back home?"

He checked his watch and sighed, taking the phone and punching in his home number. He held the phone to his ear, listening to it ring.

"It's me, Hortense," he said when she picked up the phone on the third ring. "I'm borrowing someone's phone. My partner for the day got hurt at the creek, and I helped them get home, but the bus isn't going to be back in this area until late so I'd have to walk back from the station after dark. They're letting me stay the night in their guest room so I can hit up the bus first thing tomorrow. Let Mummy and Daddy know?" He paused, listening to the response, giving a bland stare forward. "Trust me, my social life is nowhere near that exciting." He paused, listening again. "Yeah." Pause. "Yeah. I'll see you all tomorrow." Pause. "Love you, too. Bye."

He ended the call and held the phone back out to Magica. "Thanks."

Mummy and Daddy. How old was he? Sheesh. And "love you"? Gag. If he wanted anyone to take him seriously, he'd really need to watch his language in front of others.

Not that she found it cute or anything. She didn't. Really.

She yanked her phone back quickly. "Guest rooms are around the corner. All the doors should be open... we don't bother locking." No servant was stupid enough to steal.

Ah, hmmm... what else did people need when they slept over? She hadn't attended a sleep over herself since she was a child. "... Kitchen's fifth door on the left in the second hallway, if you're hungry."

"Maybe a bit later unless you want me to grab you something." She needed to stay off her ankle, after all.

He paused. "Is it all right if I borrow one of those books in the study to read?"

He felt uncomfortable, like he wasn't welcome in this house. (Would he ever feel welcome in a place like this?)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject