(Untitled)

[_to_the_bone]

Welcome, dear friends, to dinner. Miniver and Draco, this is Italy. Jack's appartment.

His boyfriend is not in at the moment. He's cooked you pasta. He's sat you at the kitchen table and everything is going very politely and very normally.

Comments

[cheevy]

...At least as normal as can be expected when those at dinner are an idealist hippie, a morally ambiguous wizard, and Jack Frost.

The hippie is inspecting the silverware with interest, when he's not too busy looking out the windows.

This is Italy.

[dragonofgrey]

Morally grey would come to mind, yes.

Draco coolly studied their surroundings with faint approval.

"Surprised you would live here with the warm climate. Or is it for the contrast?" It seemed a tad warm to his English blood. But not as hot as Egypt or Persia. And he didn't entirely mind it.

[_to_the_bone]

"I sort of came here for the ballet to begin with. I mean, I knew the city. It was the first place on Earth I ever visited, so it was my first place to look. Since then, despite the warmth, it's grown to matter a great deal. I have a sort of existance here. A job, friends, a church."

Everything. A puzzle fitting neatly together.

"I couldn't imagine moving, even for snow."

[cheevy]

"It's nice here. Bright. Not like New York, though. It's... um... lived in. I like it. Where'd you learn to cook?"