|Harry Potter and the Terrible Houseguest|
|Location||Alexandra and Ciel's Apartment - Avenue B Apartments|
|Summary||Lexie wakes up to a surprise! Yay!|
| This two-bedroom apartment on the seventh floor of the Avenue B Apartments would be a bit more desirable if not for the fact that the fickle building elevator often turns it into a seventh-floor walk-up. The apartment actually opens to the moderately professional environment of ABC Investigations, which the living room is dedicated to with a large desk, a couple chairs, and various other items. The overstuffed sofa on one side is the homiest piece in the room.
The kitchen is a bit cramped, sacrificing space to the living room, but has all the necessities of fridge, oven, stove, and a very few cupboards. Two doors off the living room lead to the two bedrooms, both on the smaller side but serviceable enough. A third leads to a bathroom a little overstuffed with hygiene and beauty supplies.A scribbled sign on the apartment door announces it as home to ABC Investigations.
Sometimes, Lexie has very weird schedules; private investigation kind of calls for it. Also, sometimes Friday nights involve a lot of alcohol. Either way, she managed to totally miss the message from her roommate informing her of a certain visitor on the couch -- she might have been asleep before he even got here -- so when she drags her bleary-eyed face and crazy morning curls out of her room it's in an oversized t-shirt of Maxim's and a pair of panties and nothing else. She almost misses the fact that the couch is occupied, but does a very slow double-take. She peers at it squintily. Is it a person, or is it just the hangover.
Christian's face is pressed into one of Ciel's bedroom pillows. Both powerful, bare arms are wrapped tightly around it, causing it to punch up at his awkward bent neck. His muscular chest and stomach are heavily furred. The massive amount of white body hair disappears beneath his jeans that, while unbuttoned at the waist for comfort, have remained on. He doesn't open his eyes but is still aware that he is no longer alone. Pouting into the pillow and grumbling, the couch surfer acknowledges the person he believes to be his sister in a stream of tired, silken French before cracking open his eyes.
Christian's glacial gaze slides up Lexie's bare legs, settling for a fraction of a second on her panties before climbing up her body to settle on her face. With slow, predatory grace, the young man pushes himself up onto his elbows. Tentatively, his eyes pinch as if to offer a faint smile. "Excusez-moi. ...Bonne matinee. I ...thought you would be my sister." He scratches his chest.
"N -- o," Lexie says, just shy of a squeak. Her gaze catches on the slow grace of him as he stands before she remembers herself and snaps it to his face. "Wow. You got, like -- tall -- er." Not tall. Her boyfriend is tall. Christian is just taller. "Sorry, the most French I know is, like, 'bonjour' and 'au revoir' and some dirty words."
"Have we?" Christian offers the slow shake of his head, "My memory is not--ahh-Ahhh--" His mouth opens his a great, vocal yawn and be stretches his right arm high over his head. As he pats down his messy white hair, his scar-battered body bends and twists. He does not know to cover his mouth, nor does he appear apologetic in the least. "We have met before?" His eyes twinkle, "I think I would have remembered."
"Well, I, like, stalked you for a while?" Lexie scrubs at her scalp, peering at him. "Oh my God. You were literally like sixteen the last time I saw you and now you're trying to hit on me. This is fundamentally weird. You got so /hairy/. Oh, also I was totally in the weird space universe with you."
"Yes, I did." Panting as if to laugh, Christian cracks a fleeting lopsided grin, "Well, I am glad to hear that you made it back." He says coolly, planting both of his (comparatively) larger hands on either hip. "I hope you do not count it against me that I do not remember. My stalkers are usually ...not so..." He slides his hands off of himself to gesture in grandeur to well, all of Lexie.
"I was actually tailing you," Lexie does think to say. She tugs at the hem of the t-shirt she's wearing a bit. "It was after you sent that letter to Ciel. I was just -- you know, checking you out. Because she's my best friend and that's kind of what I do." After a beat, she adds, "Just FYI my boyfriend is like seven feet tall with super strength."
"You're very loyal, to do that," Christian turns slightly away to button his trashy, oversized jeans. They're the kind with pre-placed 'distressed' spots. C'mon, his mom got them for him. Leave him alone! Lapsing in the conversation to accommodate another audible yawn, Christian raises his eyebrows in a casual nod, "Sounds very made up, but I understand." He bends forward to fish around the makeshift bedding on the couch for his shirt, which he peeled off in the night when it was suffocating him.
"Oh my God, he is not made up!" As if Lexie has had past compunction about flirting with guys while she's dating someone, but being accused of LYING?! "He is a giant Russian who is big enough to be the owner of this shirt that I stole." Which definitely looks it belongs to a big guy.
Lexie’s raised voice prompts Christian to glance around, as if checking the area for any predators she might unintentionally attract. Oh, right -- they’re in an apartment. “He must be an excellent provider ...to get so big,” shaking out his soccer polo, Christian motions around his stomach in a wide motion. There amused hitch at the corner of his mouth before his head disappears under the shirt as he pulls it on.
"Oh my God." Lexie rolls her eyes with a huff and twists around towards the kitchen. "You're weird. Do you want coffee?"
Turning away just as she does, Christian looks up into the corner of his eyes in devious thought. Coffee. A familiar, mischievous glint appears as his mouth stretches into a clumsy grin. "Coffee. ... Ye-esss." His eyes bulge before shrinking into thin, diabolical slits. He has not been exposed to coffee in a very, very long time. Scratching his stomach through the fabric of his shirt, he saunters clumsily to the apartment's bathroom.
As Lexie putters about the kitchen in the business of making coffee, she also flips through her Eye to find, yes, there it is, the message Ciel left her when she was drunk and/or asleep and/or something like that about the homeless half-brother on their couch. Swiping it away again -- old news now! -- she glances surreptitiously towards the bathroom doorway where Christian has disappeared.
Although he has retrained himself to close the door behind him, the obnoxious sounds that soon follow may not be those that the walls of Ciel and Lexie's apartment are accustomed to. From the slamming and reverberation of the porcelain toilet seat cover to the unnecessarily loud urine stream, to other sounds that need not be reproduced in text... The overuse of the sink, which causes a small overflow of water onto the floor. Christian should be categorized as some sort of dangerous weather phenomenon. He's going to do things to that bathroom that no one considered possible.
"What the fuck," Lexie mutters under her breath. While the coffee percolates, she finally stomps over to the bathroom door to bang on it a bit. "Yo, dude, don't murder our bathroom!"
"Sorry," Christian offers in a noncommittal tone that is wholly lacking in sincere remorse when he does open the door. His eyes widen slightly to suggest that he doesn't know what he's done to disturb her. Despite being hesitant to show any helplessness in this regard the man hasn't actually been in a facility with indoor plumbing in over half a decade. He shrugs and steps around Lexie.
Alexandra rises on her toes to peer over Christian's shoulder suspiciously at the bathroom he's left behind before narrowing her gaze on him. Without another word she spins back to the kitchen and what she was doing before. She leans up against the counter and digs around in a cupboard for two mugs to set on the counter. "Okay so. Not in, like, a mean way or whatever, but what are you doing here?"
"I don't understand the question," Christian offers dumbly, following. He continues to further endear himself to Lexie as he awkwardly chooses to occupy a space she was just about to step into. He slides out of her way to allow her to fish around in the cabinet, but not posthaste.
"Excuse you." Lexie is not shy about elbowing and nudging people out of her way, especially in her own home. "Can you just--" She sets her hands on Christian's upper arms and tries to steer him out of the way.
Is it just Christian or is Lexie being slightly less hospitable than before? Christian is left 'scratching his head' so to speak, but only after the small and unexpected physical contact elicits a bit of an instinctive flinch from the man. "O-kay." He obediently moves, but remains slightly tensed and taken off-guard by it. But not enough to leave and wait for his sister in the other room!
"Okay, you're just -- kind of everywhere." Lexie seems somewhat regretful to have elicited a flinch, like maybe he has some sort of deepset arctic issues that she's managed to brush up against. She focuses on coffee instead, pouring out two cups. "Do you want anything in it?" she asks him.
"Uhm," Christian tries to think, narrowing his eyes and fiddling with his hands. He takes another big step back away from Lexie for good measure, "I'm not sure. Do you have milk? And sugar?" Great confusion resonates on his expression as he sulks stupidly out of the way.
"I mean, those are the normal things to offer. Does that mean you want both?" Lexie opens the fridge door to scrounge for milk and then another cupboard for sugar.
"Sure," Christian pants in a totally unsure way. He goes to fiddle with a nicknack but almost tips it over onto the floor and has to fumble to catch it. ...this results in him clasping both hands together in front of him so that he doesn't touch anything else.
"Oh my God, man," Lexie says, and this time she has to laugh. "Just -- chill, okay? Stay cool. Don't freak." She shoves one of the mugs of coffee down the counter along with the milk. The sugar she uses for her own for a moment before nudging it down with the rest for him.
Pressing his mouth closed, Christian bulges out his eyes helplessly. A furious blush creeps up his complexion, which already sort of verges on albino. "Okay," he answers dutifully, if not butthurt. When the mug and the rest of the coffee fixings are passed his way, he approaches them with alien hesitation. He doesn't lift the mug by the handle, which results in a small burn and yelp. He doesn't initially open the milk properly. It actually takes him a moment. ...and he accidentally uses way too much sugar. It gets all over the counter.
"Wow. Okay." Lexie just kind of stares at him a bit before eventually -- finally -- her buried sympathy starts to emerge. "You didn't have coffee wherever you were, did you?" she asks, her voice touched with wryness.
When Christian looks up, his eyes are still wide but they've gone a bit vacant. "I didn't have anything," he answers in a soft, listless murmur. Both of his hands are held out away from the mug. Covered in sticky creamer and sugar, he keeps his fingers separated to as to avoid the uncomfortable sensation. He is hopeless.
Alexandra exhales a slow, quiet sigh as she watches him in all his helplessness. "Okay," she says a bit gentler. She pulls a washcloth from the sink and turns on the faucet to wet it before stepping closer to him. She reaches for one hand to pull it into the cool slide of the washcloth, wiping off the mess of milk and sugar. "Little bit of culture shock?" she surmises. "I guess that makes sense."
Christian's expression darkens somewhat and rather than look to Lexie, he averts his gaze to watch what she does with the cloth. Whatever thought occurred to him, he doesn't share it. In deep somber contemplation, he slowly looks down into the milky-chocolate colored liquid in the mug Lexie has provided him with.
"Hey, it's cool," Lexie says, trying to relax him with a breezy, no-worries kind of tone, as if she can relax him with nonchalance, as she finishes wiping one hand and starts on the other. "I've made way bigger messes. And you can have a fresh cup if you ruined this one."
There is nothing quite so demasculating as being wiped down with a damp rag like a toddler. Entirely disheartened, Christian does his best to be mentally absent until it is done. “Will I get in trouble if I take it outside?” He asks without so much as a hint of irony. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down with a gulp.
There is nothing quite so emasculating as being wiped down with a damp rag like a toddler. Entirely disheartened, Christian does his best to be mentally absent until it is done. "Will I get in trouble if I take it outside?" He asks without so much as a hint of irony. His Adam's apple bobs up and down with a gulp.
"The coffee?" Lexie says with a snort. She rinses the washcloth off and tosses it back in the sink, considering him. Then she says, "Just hold on a sec." She dumps his coffee and pours him a fresh cup, which she garnishes with a more reasonable amount of both milk and sugar. And then she takes both mugs and tips her chin. "Come on," she says, heading towards the living room. She sets the mugs down on the work desk and sets to opening up the window behind it. And then she carefully takes the coffee and climbs out onto the fire escape.
Christian experiences a brief internal struggle in which he experiences a pang of fear and adrenaline at the idea of clambering out of one of these windows. He follows, anyway. It feels good. It’s a sensation he actually knows how to deal with, which is a pleasant surprise ...given his current circumstances. He’s no stranger to heights, nor the dangers those heights pose. “Where are we going?” He asks too late, glancing around them with a quiet, “Oh.”
"Right here. Ta-da!" Lexie finally hands him his coffee now that they're safely (??) on the fire escape. "Outside. You wanted to take it outside!" Should she be out here without pants?
Yes. She should. Shh.
Still not having learned his lesson, Christian takes the mug in both hands at first. With a hiss, he switches to carry the hot mug by its handle. He attention wanders up and down the iron escape, "Do you ever climb it?" He asks as if considering doing just that right now.
"I've gone up to the roof a few times," Lexie says with a shrug, lifting her mug to sip carefully at the hot coffee.
Taking a cue from Lexie, Christian brings his coffee to his mouth as well. He takes a sip. It's something that he immediately and very clearly regrets. His upper lips curls in disgust. His nose crinkles. His eyes pinch shut. The man lets out a feral grunt as he turns and spits out a great spray of hot brown liquid out over the street below. He nearly drops the mug in the coughing fit that follows.
"Oh my God -- /Christian/." Lexie leans over to make sure he hasn't gone and spit coffee on a passerby below that she's going to have to keep from murdering him. "Okay, for future reference, /don't do that/."
"This is terrible," Christian complains pathetically. His eyes widen dramatically as he looks off into the horizon. This is what people have been drinking all of these years. "Why do you drink this?" He asks in sincere concern as he looks back to Lexie. Does she hate herself?
"Because coffee is /life/." /Obviously/. Although it clearly pains her to say, Lexie adds, "But you don't have to -- drink it. You just can't spit it out maybe onto other people!"
Christian presses a hand to his stomach and lets out a quiet pant. He juts his head forward on his mouth as though he might retch, but instead sticks out his entire long tongue. He brings up that same hand to try and /scrape/ away the taste that lingers there with his fingernails. "Blegh!"
"Ooookay, that's -- that's enough of that." Lexie frowns at him. "Don't be a baby! Jesus Christ. God, fine, get back inside and I'll figure out something you /will/ consume. Why did you say you wanted coffee if you hate it?"
"Ith thought ith woulth lithe ith now that ith'm a grown-uph," Christian emits with his tongue, which is ruined now, sticking out. The mug in his hand rattles and threatens to spill as he climbs back inside the apartment.
"Aw, honey." Lexie smiles a bit despite herself as she follows him back inside. "It's okay. We probably have some OJ or -- something. Or some other form of juice. Or, like, a bunch of soda. Or beer. Or liquor."
They both just woke up but sure, let’s offer the manchild alcohol. “We just woke up,” Christian murmurs, side-eyeing Lexie skeptically. You know what they still have in postapocalyptic-snowmageddon-verse? Liquor. Granted, it was more of the moonshine variety. “I think I’m just going to go for a walk,” Christian offers in a quiet, defeated tone as he sets his mug down somewhere arbitrary that isn’t the sink and isn’t anywhere near the sink.
"Well. Okay." Lexie eyes him with just a /touch/ of muted concern, like she's a little worried about letting him out of her sight. But, for better or worse, he's an adult now. "Have -- fun, I guess."Christian presses his mouth into a thin, perfunctory smile as a response. “Mmhm.” Before he leaves about sliding on his shoes and gathering his belongings into a pile that resembles some sort of order ...vaguely. He does leave, though.