nigel-twycross

[nigel-twycross]

nicholas-chastain‌:

Nic didn’t have anything to do with the Church trial. It was almost certainly a Death Eater hack job, but no-one had asked him to interfere, so he hadn’t. Instead he’d kept to his lane, kept low, tried not to get yelled at by increasingly cranky superiors in masks, even though he had the tattoo the same as them and that meant something. It meant he was needed and important and useful. 

He was actually scoping out some buildings- he hadn’t been told why, just that it was important, although lately he’d heard rumors that the Dark Lord’s attention had shifted from the offensive to looking for something- when he’d been interrupted by the last person he wanted to see. 

Jean-Claude Bouchard. 

His father. 

Still trying to talk to him, to “connect”, begging Nic to just listen because “You’re my son, Nicholas! She stole you from me; I tried to find you, I swear. I am here now, please-”

Nic had only just managed to lose the man when suddenly he was being swept aside by a short, familiar figure, although it took him long enough to recognize Nigel that he very nearly reacted poorly simply out of impulse. 

“Don’t touch me,” he snapped, stepping back and crossing his arms over his chest. The brick wall of the alley dug into his shoulderblades. Why had he had to run into Nigel, of all people? He didn’t want a distraction right now, he wanted to see Nate and have a cigarette. “It’s none of your fucking business.”

Nigel had not been expecting the hostility that he was met with. What exactly he was expecting, he wasn’t sure. However, the man did not seem to be his normal self, and that made Nigel extremely nervous. It wasn’t as though he thought the other would really do anything to hurt him, as from what he could tell, the man talked a big talk, but had never shown any actual signs that he could do damage. Nigel wasn’t scared of him. 

Raising a brow as the other snapped, he crossed his arms over his chest and gave a shrug. “That never stopped you. You seem to be in everyone’s business.” Whether the other man’s knack for prying was related to business or pleasure, it always seemed that he was curious enough to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. Ironic now, how he was preaching the opposite to Nigel. 

After seeing the other nearly faint at the tragic sight of Anson Wood’s body, Nigel felt some odd sense of responsibility over the other, which was truly insane given the fact that any time prior to that where they had met, Nigel wanted absolutely nothing to do with the man. Renard, or whatever his actual name was, had somehow wormed his way into Nigel’s life, and thus this now was his business. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but let me help. You’re running... where do you need to go?”

[nigel-twycross]

msdaisymcnair‌:

Daisy looked over sharply, her expression softening when she realized who was at the table next to her. She didn’t know Nigel Twycross personally, but his face was hard to miss after everything that happened. It was perhaps ironic to have the idea of trust brought up by someone whose side in all this seemed entirely his own at this point, but the conversation was neutral enough. “But they’re turning an innocent man into a scapegoat in their fear mongering.” She shook her head.”It’s not just that they don’t trust; it’s that they’re trying to make everyone else trust no one but them, but they can’t even agree on a stance right now. Why prosecute a victim of circumstance? If Alex had been involved in all this, he wouldn’t have reported supplies missing.”

Nigel could understand anyone’s apprehension in talking with him after everything that had happened. He himself wasn’t even sure that this was a good idea, being out and about as if nothing had changed. It’d almost gotten him killed, even, but nonetheless. “There’s no such thing as innocence in their eyes, any more.” Even if Nigel wasn’t innocent in what he had been doing, there were others who had done far more than he ever had, and yet he was sure some still painted him a villain. “I’m not saying he’s got anything to do with it, really, but if someone really wanted to prove themselves falsely innocent, now would be the time to confess things. The ministry wouldn’t know whether or not they were bluffing.” Giving a shrug, Nigel sighed. “But I do believe that he had nothing to do with this. He likely got caught in the crossfire.”

Threat of Foreigners

[nigel-twycross]

Trait: Snitching

“I’d do it again to protect someone that I cared about.”

[nigel-twycross]

Trait: Fake.

[nigel-twycross]

Rumour: You're nearly out of money and considering turning to being a sugar baby

“A what? I can assure you that neither of those things are true...”

[nigel-twycross]

nicholas-chastain‌:

Nic shoved off Nigel’s first line, not really seeing the need to defend himself or comment on it any further. It was what it was. The second observation, though, made his steps falter just slightly for a moment. But before he could answer it in any meaningful way they were kissing, and he was stunned, and Nigel looked thoroughly satisfied by the fact that he’d suddenly gotten the upper hand for once. 

Well, not for long. Nic hated being caught off-kilter; he was unbalanced enough in his own body that he strove for what mastery he could find in the world beyond it. So he kissed Nigel again and that seemed to thoroughly shut him up, at least for a moment. He had expected to be thrown off, to be yelled at, but instead- Nigel melted into him, and a sigh escaped between their lips, though Nic couldn’t tell whose it was. It had been a while since Nic was close to someone like this, and he started to feel it. Touch wasn’t ever something he strove for in any meaningful way, but once he had it, it was like his body suddenly lit with the realization that he liked it. It was almost against himself he kept his hands on Nigel where they were, arms extending slightly when Nigel finally stepped away. 

The other man was bright red and finally Nic had to concede to breaking all contact between them, but he still chased forward by a step so they were as close as they had been when they were dancing. He looked down at Nigel with a mix of curiosity and surprise and just a hint of desire, if only for the sensation of being held so completely again. 

“What shouldn’t have happened?” Nic asked, grinning roguishly. “Your kiss, or mine?”

But then his attention was pulled slightly away from Nigel as there was a stirring on the dance floor; an announcement of some kind? Ah, the winner of a raffle. Nic and Nigel must have arrived fashionably late enough to miss the opportunity to put their own names in. A large box was brought to the center of the room and people politely shifted out of the way as a little speech was made and the prize explained- why someone would want a giant dragon statue, even one with real dragon scales, Nic couldn’t imagine- the winner called - a name that Nic thought sounded puzzlingly familiar - and then the lid was removed from the box. 

Nic wasn’t a quidditch fan, but he read the news; he recognized Appleby Arrows star Anson Wood as the corpse tumbled from the box in disfigured pieces. All of the intrigue and heat that had been building between Nigel and he mere moments ago was sucked from the room like a cold wind. The Death Eaters were responsible for this; they had to be, especially considering that the few in the room Nic could identify didn’t look surprised in the least. 

Cold sweat beaded on Nic’s forehead; he’d gone white; his hands shook. After another half-second of staring at the body, ears ringing, he bolted from his place in the horrified crowd and found the nearest dim hall. Then he was promptly sick in the pot of a nearby hospital plant. 

So many thoughts were racing through Nigel’s mind that it felt like one more addition and it was going to explode. There were no words for the amount of confusion he felt after the second kiss. For once, even if for only a moment, before the man had decided to return the favor, Nigel had felt like he regained some control back. It slipped through his fingers every time he was around the other, which was both infuriating and down right bewildering, as he normally didn’t allow this sort of thing to happen. It felt almost as if someone else were in the driver’s seat whenever he was around him, and he lost all capability to manage his own actions. 

Had it been anyone else, Nigel might have still been flustered, but at least it wouldn’t feel somewhat demeaning. Even if that wasn’t intentional, it was often how he was left feeling around the man. Why that was, he couldn’t answer. 

“Either... both...” he answered with a shake of his head. Though truthfully it wasn’t about the kiss at all, but rather how he had reacted to it. Nigel couldn’t quite remember the last time he had been embarrassed after kissing someone, though he was sure it had been a while. 

Just as he was about to take his leave and bid the other farewell, the sudden commotion stripped him of the opportunity. Great... Nigel thought to himself, turning his attention toward the announcement as he tried to keep a low profile. It would look far too strange if he were to disappear now, when the crowd’s attention was focused as one. As soon as the large box was brought out onto the floor, Nigel got a gut feeling that something was terribly, horribly wrong. His heart beat quickened and skin started to itch, involuntarily moving closer to the man he was beside. It wasn’t necessarily fear that washed over him, but a looming feeling that whatever was in that box was not what was intended.

The assumption was confirmed as the prize was revealed. Nigel flinched, grabbing Renard’s arm tightly. He had seen dead bodies before, and people in terrible conditions as a healer, but this... this was something he had never imagined that he would see. His eyes had nearly widened out of his forehead, and by the time he was turning to look up at the man beside him, the other was turning to rush out of there. Bloody hell... Nigel thought to himself, rushing after the other. 

It was a dumb move on his part, but his feet were already taking off before he could think it over, and he found the man not too far off, hunched over one of the plants that St Mungo’s had as decor. “Come with me...” he murmured, ushering the man off to one of the rooms near by. Even though Nigel didn’t work there anymore, he had learned tricks to get around without anyone else knowing while he was working for the death eaters. They needed to get somewhere that they wouldn’t be found, particularly for Nigel’s sake, though he wanted to make sure the other was okay. 

Nigel gently guided him to take a seat, instinctively reverting back to the healer in him. It didn’t matter at the moment that this had been someone who, for lack of better term, frustrated Nigel beyond belief. It would weigh on his conscious if he just up and disappeared after that. Placing his hands on the other’s cheeks, Nigel pushed the man’s hair back to feel his forehead, the height difference more manageable between them now that the other was sitting. “Are you alright?” A stupid question, really. They had just seen a dead body, and a gruesomely presented one, at that. It would probably scar even the toughest mind. It was obvious on Nigel’s face that he was scared, too. Terrified, even, considering the fact that he could have very well had been an addition to that stunt. For the sake of trying to be the stronger person though, he attempted to conceal it as much as possible.

Hello again

[nigel-twycross]

Since the Valentine’s day ball disaster at St Mungos, Nigel had been keeping even more of a low profile. He had nearly managed to escape whatever fate would have awaited him had he not gotten the spur of the moment decision to kiss the man he had show up with to divert attention. There were death eaters at that party that he knew of, and surely some that he was less familiar with. Point blank period, they had been there to make a statement. Whether that was simply achieved by delivering the body of Anson Wood in such a gruesome light, or maybe even more so by potentially capturing a traitor to the organization, they were going to get their point across one way or another. Thankfully Nigel had managed to escape it this long.

The way that he had left the ball though left a pour taste in his mouth. Even if he presumed that the other he had accompanied was nothing but bad news, Nigel’s instincts as a healer were to always take care of people who needed it. In that moment, it had become obvious that the man wasn’t as calm cool and collected as he had come off. Though, Nigel should cut him some slack, as it probably wasn’t likely that he had seen many deceased before. Unfortunately, that was to be expected in war. He hadn’t come across the other since they had met that night, though in all honesty, that may have been for the best. 

Spoke too soon...

Upon hearing the news of Alex Church’s trial, Nigel felt as though things were about to get far worse for everyone. Despite knowing what he was putting at risk, Nigel felt compelled to attempt to gather more information. He recognized the other as they were coming toward one another, and by the looks of it, they no longer obtained that enigmatic essence. As subtly as he could, Nigel kept his head down as he walked toward the other, sweeping him to the side as quietly and nonchalantly as possible. “Are you alright? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost...”

@nicholas-chastain​

[nigel-twycross]

In Nigel’s opinion, this war was being led by one thing alone: fear. The only real reason most people followed the dark lord was because they were afraid not to, and fear was on every side. Whether you were with him, against him, or neutral, fear was playing a huge role in how everyone reacted. “The ministry is scared,” Nigel replied softly, almost as if he didn’t actually want to be heard. “They don’t know who they can trust, so they’ve decided to trust virtually no one.”

Threat of Foreigners

Daisy dropped the newspaper back down onto the table harder than was strictly necessary, not wanting to read another word. Still, she waited only a moment before picking it back up to keep reading what few highly slanted details released about Alex’s upcoming trial. “What the hell is the problem with people these days?” she said before putting it back down and dropping her head into her hands. “I don’t understand how anyone could think that someone has caring as Alex could try to hurt anyone, much less be a risk to his students.”

[nigel-twycross]

[nigel-twycross]

30% perfect smile, 30% healing hands, 40% French sass

“Say no more.”

[nigel-twycross]

Hell of a healer and twice as pretty

“You’re very kind...”

[nigel-twycross]

You've always been too precious to exist in a world this harsh. You tried to prove you weren't. It's no surprise you got broken instead.

[nigel-twycross]

⚡ : How does your muse feel about storms? Are they afraid of them, or do they calm them?

“Storms depending on their intensity can either be frightening or soothing. A thunderstorm with light rain makes for a very good afternoon inside curled up with a book, or playing music. But if there’s wind and high intensity rain, they can be more nerve wracking.”

[nigel-twycross]

nicholas-chastain‌:

Nigel’s lack of alarm at the shift to his wand was another note of fascination that Nic honed in on easily. The other, despite all that he seemed to dislike Nic, wasn’t afraid of him. They were quite literally on opposite sides of this war now, yet some impulse in Nigel kept him trusting if not Nic, then at least Nic’s intentions where a lack of violence were concerned. As far as he knew, Nic hadn’t done anything to earn that sort of trust, which meant it was given freely, or perhaps Nigel’s instincts were just that terrible. 

“It never hurts to ask,” Nic said, even though in his experience it most definitely could. Asking the right question at the right time of the right person could set a whole tower toppling, if you knew what you were doing. “It was just a charm for grace; can you feel it?” Nic certainly could, the dance having achieved a new level of weightlessness with the charm taking care of some of Nigel’s otherwise more awkward footwork. 

“Guilty of being curious, maybe. Sometimes of being an instigator. But I’m not responsible for what people decide to do once they find themselves in that corner,” he said calmly. It seemed like Nigel was fishing for shared guilt, perhaps? Looking for a way to make Nic feel just as bad as Nigel did for all his own sins. Interesting tactic; was it intentional, or just the natural human impulse of not wanting to be alone in feeling poorly? But he was quickly distracted away from that by the way Nigel reacted to his touch. Nic wasn’t the most aggressively physical person, but he knew how to read people, and he knew he’d hit something sensitive in Nigel. 

But then Nigel was spinning away, and the other man’s face when he returned to Nic’s arm was completely changed by fear. What had he noticed? Just another Death Eater, perhaps, or something else, something Nic should worry about too? 

“There’s no use worrying about the inevitable,” he murmured absently, scanning over Nigel’s head to try seeing what had spooked him so much. Despite how little thought he put into the words, though, they were true; Nic’s life had been shaped by impulse, by wild magic, but emotional trauma he couldn’t reconcile. It was inevitable that one day he’d get himself into too much trouble to work his way out of, and it would be precisely what he deserved. 

And then they were kissing. Nic was pulled down by the hands cupping his face, and although it was brief it was blinding in its intensity. The hand on Nigel’s waist tightened instinctively, the other rising halfway up as if to curl around Nigel’s neck but pausing in the air. 

“That is not- I did not expect that,” he said, slightly dazed, staring at Nigel. Kissing wasn’t really his forte; it was pleasant sure, but he didn’t feel the desire to chase it out the way so many other people seemed to. Neither did Nigel, if he was telling the truth about needing a distraction. And why not be thorough? Nic finished drawing his hand completely up to the side of Nigel’s head, once again winding through his hair and this time deliberately curling his fingers over Nigel’s ear as he pulled him in for another longer kiss, this one decidedly more thorough.

Nigel was tired of people seeing him as a scared child. Even if he was still young, he wasn’t a child anymore and knew far more magic than most people might assume. After all, he had cast a rather dark and nasty spell at the Potter’s wedding to get Henry away from him. There were things that he knew how to do that would likely leave others perplexed. Had he tried all of them? No, but that didn’t mean he didn’t do his research. The last thing he wanted was for this man to think that he was afraid of him. Truth be told, he was afraid, but not of Renard. He was afraid of other death eaters who might know that he was there, or who wanted him dead. He was afraid of dying, in and of itself. But the man before him? No, he was not afraid of him. 

A charm for grace... bloody fantastic. Nigel had been hoping that maybe if he danced so horribly the other would lose interest, but of course, he only went out of his way to solve the problem. Giving a rather discouraged huff, Nigel nodded curtly, rolling his eyes to the side. “I don’t believe you’re only sometimes guilty of being an instigator,” Nigel challenged. It was almost impossible to imagine a conversation with the other where there was no button pushing, or instigating. It seemed like that was his niche. A plan b to fall back on with each interaction. 

Was the inevitable comment meant to mean more? Nigel pondered over it for a moment, trying to take his mind off of the fact that they were surrounded by death eaters who could approach them at any moment. Hell, this man was one of them. Nigel wasn’t quite sure what he was thinking, agreeing to a dance with him now that he had a moment to reconsider it. But then again, that also made the other all the more foolish to ask, knowing that Nigel had been arrested and there was likely a bounty for his body. “So does that mean you’re expecting it, then? To one day push someone too far?”

There wasn’t time for much of an answer before Nigel had locked his lips with the man’s. Considering it was only meant to be used as a distraction, Nigel found Renard’s response to it rather intriguing. He hadn’t expected the man’s grip on him to tighten as it did, or for him to be so willing to just let Nigel kiss him. Despite his worries that the other would push him away or react negatively, it was a surprise to see the reaction was quite the opposite. Seemingly, it worked out in his favor. He had finally gotten what he wanted, even if it was slight: to catch the other off guard. 

“Well...” What Nigel wanted to say was that it wasn’t like he had planned the kiss, but he stopped himself. Why not take the moment to brag a bit? “I guess you’re the flustered one now, then,” he finished, raising a brow in an almost challenging manor. Seeing the other look so dazed and confused was truly bewildering. For a moment Nigel wondered whether or not he had broken the man,that was until he was being pulled in for a second kiss. Dammit. Once again, Renard had to prove that he had the upper hand. Nigel kept one hand on the other’s cheek as the second fell limply to his shoulder. 

The first kiss should have been enough of a distraction, so why he was kissing Nigel a second time and initiating this one, was unclear to the younger wizard. And how the hell did he catch on to the fact that Nigel’s ears were sensitive? Bloody hell... he didn’t think his original reaction had been much to pick up on, but he couldn’t help feel as though this time it was a deliberate attempt. Despite his best efforts to keep his verbal reaction contained, it couldn’t be helped that a sigh slipped off his tongue as they kissed a second time, Nigel’s fingers curling closed around the fabric on the other’s shoulder. What was happening? Nigel hadn’t anticipated any of this, even before the panic kiss prior to this one. He had simply been looking to divert attention from the two of them, and now here he was kissing a man that before today he would have swore he couldn’t stand for the mere fact that he got under Nigel’s skin. 

Snapping back to reality, Nigel pulled away sharply, keeping his eyes pointed down to the ground. His face was entirely red at this point, hands loosely falling from their positions as he pulled away from the man entirely for a moment. “That shouldn’t have happened... sorry...” What he was apologizing for, Nigel didn’t specify, though he truthfully meant the fact that he damn near moaned quietly as they kissed a second time. “I told you this dance wasn’t a good idea,” Nigel shook his head, tentatively starting to take a step back.

Hello again

[nigel-twycross]

nicholas-chastain‌:

“Life isn’t fair,” Nic shrugged. Nigel was right, of course; it hadn’t been fair. But fairness had nothing to do with why Nic had said it. He’d said it to get a reaction, and because he was curious. He’d gotten his reaction and his curiosity was somewhat sated, with the realization that Nigel was still very defensive of his choice. It implied that Nigel felt like he needed to defend himself, and to Nic of all people. Perhaps the other man was simply insecure as a point of personality. It wouldn’t surprise Nic. It would also make him easier to manipulate and swing around. How fun.

The dance was slow but steady, and Nic swung them to the melody with precise steps that served to settle his body and his awareness to a state that was very-nearly grounded. It was a sharp change from his normal state, humming with magic and that strange, formless fear that had followed him around since he left home. Despite his protests, Nigel managed to follow relatively well. Still, Nic shifted his hand to his jacket pocket and briefly grasped his wand to murmur an incantation that would lend grace and weightlessness to Nigel’s steps as long as they were in contact. He returned his hand to Nigel’s waist.

“I know how to poke people,” he corrected. “They twist themselves. You’re doing a rather admirable job of it on yourself right now.” He’d “manipulate” people, sure, but most of the time what he did was less pointed than that, and almost always less thought-out than anyone could possibly guess. Around London he was known as something of a mastermind, unpredictable and highly effective, but the truth was that he barely ever thought more than two steps ahead. He just acted; how others reacted was entirely up to them. It just so happened that people were boring and Nic usually knew how they’d react.

Nigel was still so flustered, it was adorable, and having him to concentrate on further quieted that fussy animal in Nic’s chest that was constantly gnawing at the bars of its poorly-constructed cage, the magic begging to act out. Nic removed his hand from Nigel’s waist and brushed his fingers across Nigel’s cheek before curling his hand around and into his hair, slightly, because he wanted to and also because he wanted to see just how much he could knock Nigel off-focus. 

“Games imply a level of organization. And an end. That’s not me.” He removed his hand so that Nigel could spin out and away, slowly, before pulling him back, closer than they’d previously been. “I told you; I’m curious. Just because you don’t think you’re interesting, doesn’t mean that’s true. Besides, even if you weren’t interesting in and of yourself, there’s plenty else I could be curious about. I told you, I push people.”

Nigel rolled his eyes at the comment. He knew very well that life wasn’t fair and that more often than not, one simply had to accept that fact and move on. But when he said it... it only made Nigel want to retract from the whole conversation. In that moment he wished that he had drank before this, as it likely would have been easier to deal with, considering Nigel was clearly wound up over the prison conversation. If the man was going to keep bringing it up, Nigel just might have to accidentally step on his foot.

For whatever reason, Nigel noticed immediately when Renard’s hand moved from his waist. Perhaps it was because he was so used to being on guard around the other that it was much easier to be less skeptical of the other’s intentions when his hands were occupied. Or, could it have been something else? He chalked it up to just noticing the lack of pressure, and not because he wanted the other’s hand to be back in place. His brows still furrowed though, with the same curiosity of what he was up to as he saw the other reach into his pocket. “Should I even bother asking?” Nigel questioned, letting out a soft sigh at the returning touch of the man’s hand. It was slight, yet he felt the need to cover it up by looking around once more and playing it off as though he were reacting to the scene around them. 

“If poking leads to twisting then you’re just as guilty.” It took all of Nigel’s strength not to turn entirely red right that second. “You’re getting me all confused, that’s why. You talk people into a corner.” A corner that Nigel seemed to not be able to free himself from. In fact, for whatever reason, it seemed that he was getting pulled further and further into it every moment he spent with the other. While Nigel wasn’t a stranger to touch and affection, receiving it from someone that he had tried to convince himself to dislike felt far different from any other encounter he had experienced. It certainly wasn’t as comforting as it felt to be close to Henry, —regardless of their mixed feelings at the moment— and wasn’t as animated as being around Gilderoy Lockhart. He didn’t know quite how to explain the feeling really, other than different. 

It caught him off guard, the fingers grazing his cheek and winding through his hair. This. This was exactly the sort of thing about the man that flustered him. The unexpected close proximity and intimate like gestures. The way it both simultaneously felt as though they were strangers and yet had known each other in perhaps another life. The way that he said things that Nigel would have questioned coming from anyone else, but couldn’t find the words to now. It was all very distracting. The music humming in the background, the people surrounding them chatting with one another. Nigel turned his head rather abruptly as Nic’s hand had brushed against his ear in passing. There was no discrete way to cover that bit up other than to deny it happened. Instead he cleared his throat and averted making eye contact for a moment.

The spin was unexpected, though a preferred diversion to the fact that he was deliberately trying to hide his reactions. It wasn’t until he was already spinning back in that Nigel noticed someone watching the both of them. Fear emerged in his eyes, though he did not panic. Rather, he turned back and let himself be drawn back into the man’s arms. “So what is it, then? What could you possibly be curious about?” Nigel couldn’t understand or wrap his head fully around the concept that someone would actually be interested in any part of him now. It had taken him a while to even think they might before the arrest. “Aren’t you worried that one day you’ll push too far?” 

Just as Nigel looked over the other’s shoulder, he could see someone making their way through the crowd, seemingly looking for something. Or, someone. “Merde...” Someone had definitely seen him, or at the very least, suspected it. Panicking, Nigel acted on the first thing he thought of. Reaching up to cup both of the man’s cheeks, Nigel pulled him down into a kiss.

The intention wasn’t to prolong it; the kiss was just a distraction, after all. Divert the attention of whoever it was that was walking toward them and guide them to someone or something else. In Nigel’s experience, he had often found or assumed that public displays of affection such as kissing made others uncomfortable when caught staring. Once he felt confident that the diversion worked, Nigel pulled away, a bit perplexed by his own actions, and slightly disoriented. “Erm... distraction... sorry...”

Hello again

[nigel-twycross]

nicholas-chastain‌:

“You’ll follow, then, and I’ll lead,” Nic said breezily, warming to the situation the longer he was in it. He’d been without a long-term distraction since he drove Emily the waitress away. Diversions like Gringotts heists and worrying about Nate had taken up plenty of his time, of course, and there were always his regular duties with the Death Eaters, but he’d been getting antsy. Running into Nigel again was a blessing in that sense, honestly; the other man seemed poised on the verge of running away yet couldn’t seem to manage it. Nic was fascinated to see what would follow. “That is, if you can follow me better than you did our fellows-in-conspiracy?”

It was a stupid little jab at Nigel’s treachery, but Nic never could leave well enough alone. It wasn’t as if he was at all loyal to Voldemort’s cause, anyways. He was pureblood only based on his mother’s insistence that his father was a wizard, and muggles were curious creatures but certainly also people the same way magical folk were . But Voldemort kept Nic occupied; Nic would always have a place and use among the Death Eaters, which was more than he could say he’d ever had in his life. He doubted that Nigel shared the ideology of his former master, either. That, or fear had been enough for him to abandon such beliefs in favor of securing his freedom. Yet more questions that Nic wanted answers to. As long as Nigel kept him curious, Nic didn’t see any reason to let him go.

And Nigel seemed on the verge of going, except that even as he spoke he didn’t pull his hand from Nic’s, and it was fairly obvious after a scan of the ballroom that Nigel realized his position with Nic was far safer than the alternatives. 

Nic pulled him closer and into position on the dance floor, beginning the steps of the slow dance that all of the others were engaged in. The boldness of the question took him by surprised, and it showed in the way Nic raised his brows, but he thought about it honestly as they turned, his hand in Nigel’s and the other on the shorter man’s waist. 

“‘Fun’ isn’t always the right word for it,” he said honestly, finding no reason to lie since honesty, so far, had served him well where Nigel was concerned. “I’m not trying to make you do anything; I’m just seeing how you react. You’re getting flustered all on your own…. What is it about me that flusters you?”

Why was it that everything he said suddenly made Nigel want to agree with him? The fist time they had met, Nigel fought as hard as he could to deliberately disagree with whatever their topic of conversation was, but it proved difficult considering the other had made points both then and now that were hard to deny or counter. Even something as challenging as staying in a room with wizards and witches who probably wanted him dead seemed so casual when he asked. Then again, it was more like insisting, though Nigel couldn’t bring himself to say no.

Something about the idea of dancing with another individual made him feel slightly more protected and secure than he would have been on his own, though Nigel still hated the idea that he would have to display how clumsy he could be at times when it came to things like dancing. “That is by no means a fair comparison,” he shot back rather quickly, raising a brow. Nigel’s decision to go against the death eaters was selfish, sure, but it had been one that thus far kept him alive and away from dementors, which he assessed as worthy of betrayal. 

Besides, there was going to come a day when Nigel would step back regardless. He had only been doing a bare minimum for the group in his eyes, though in the broader scheme of things, he probably kept most of them alive and undiscovered. 

Nigel did his best to follow as the other led them through the dance, muttering a silent prayer under his breath that he wouldn’t make a fool of himself. For the first time in their encounters, Nigel could have sworn he saw the other look perplexed as their eyes met. It felt like an odd victory of sorts, to see the other look anything other than calm and collected. “On the contrary, it very much so feels as though you are. You know how to twist people.” Had he had the ability to control how much his cheeks flushed and when, Nigel would have preferred they not at all, whenever he was around Renard. Unfortunately, however, that was damn near impossible. 

“That’s not— Never mind...” he shot back quickly. “What I meant is that it feels like a game, to you.” There wasn’t a reason to give the male more to work from, especially as he could once again feel his cheeks getting warmer. Then again, he wasn’t sure that the original blush had ever gone away. “Why keep coming around, if there isn’t a motive?” To Nigel’s knowledge, they weren’t exactly friends. He certainly wasn’t going to tell the man what he really thought of him when it was obvious he didn’t trust Nigel to even give him his proper first name. Nigel’s eyes darted around the room on occasion, to make sure no one was eyeing them for too long, but they always fell back on Renard’s. “I’m not a very interesting person...”

Hello again

[nigel-twycross]

nicholas-chastain‌:

Nic noted the look of confusion the shorter man gave him, but Nigel didn’t elaborate on the vivid expression so Nic didn’t ask. He wondered what about what he’d said had been difficult to understand? Something had touched Nigel, because he was quiet as well-behaved arm candy all the way up to when Nic asked him to dance. 

“Have you ever lied well in your life?” Nic asked, not unkindly, but his tone was direct the minute a blush began to creep over Nigel’s cheeks. It was as clear an answer as any spoken word would have been, especially when combined with a beat of hesitant silence. 

“I can dance well enough for the both of us.” He released Nigel’s arm but only to slide his hand down to clasp Nigel’s own, hand warm and sure. He didn’t actually mind dancing; the rhythm and movement to it were soothing, and the other body was grounding. There was a sense of control to it that didn’t make him want to viciously lash out. So it was both for himself, and for his pursuit of Nigel’s breaking point, that he didn’t take the soft no for an answer. 

“Stay. Dance with me.” He tugged lightly on Nigel’s hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it and glancing at Nigel, eye-level since he’d bent over slightly from his considerable height. The strains of the orchestra were audible just beyond them. The room was filled with murmured conversation that ebbed and flowed in curious waves. The dark eyes of Bellatrix Lestrange and Malcolm Greengrass and too many others were around them. Nic didn’t care.

Some uncontrollable force must have entered Nigel’s body at this point, because without a clear explanation he was letting this man keep him here when he had been completely against the idea of going with him in the first place before they had actually arrived. For whatever reason, he was doing everything that the other said, which was a scary thought to dwell on. Perhaps though, if the pair of them were so occupied, that their presence would go unnoticed. At least, that was what Nigel was going to hope for. 

“I’m not lying when I say I can’t dance,” Nigel explained, though he knew very well that wasn’t what the man had actually meant. He was most certain that he had meant to call Nigel out on the fact that he was obviously supposed to be meeting someone there, which was even more embarrassing. There were a handful of things that Nigel was still particularly shy about regarding his own insecurities, and dancing was absolutely one of them. While he likely wasn’t the worst at it, dancing with someone you hardly know who also happens to be someone who slightly infuriates you for unknown reasons isn’t the best time to face one’s fears. 

Nigel tensed up slightly when Renard took his hand, though he couldn’t have imagined that it would get much worse. That was, until the man kissed the back of his hand, which turned Nigel’s face into the brightest shade of red he could have imagined, cheeks flushed and hot at this point. “Really, I think I better just go, I mean... I’d, I’d probably step on your foot, or... something, really...” It wasn’t until he happened to look up and notice the sort of company that was already taking an area nearby that he gave in, just wanting to disappear in the crowd in hopes to not be seen. “Fine.” 

There really was no use fighting the other’s persistent attempts, as he would just draw more attention to the both of them if Nigel kept resisting. So, rather than cause a stir, Nigel allowed himself to be pulled closer, taking a much needed deep breath as the music started to grow a tad louder. Or perhaps he was just finally allowing himself to hear it. “Can I ask you something? Why do you seem so fixated on seeing me flustered?” Though Nigel realized that question probably made him seem self-centered or as if the world revolved around him —which he of course did not believe— he had no other way of asking it that he could formulate at the moment. “Or is this just something you do for fun?”

Hello again