- Wed Dec 28, 2016 6:04 pm
"Oh, the tea," Trevor said, having forgot all about it during this whole little chat they were having. "And I'll get you something for the pain and bruising." His head would probably be hurting quite a bit, too, if he'd punched himself hard enough to knock himself out. Why hadn't he thought of that? He really should have. He should have been the good husband ready with pain pills, water, and some sort of balm to help with the bruising, though it was arguable if she would have accepted anything from him at all at that point. He stood up from the table and walked off to the kitchen where, sure enough, the tea kettle was whistling. He turned off the heat and grabbed a couple mugs and tea bags, pouring the water into the mugs and putting the tea bags into the water and letting it steep a bit before fixing her tea how he remembered her liking it back when he was Headmaster Trey Hunter, but no need to dwell on that mess of a year, even if it ultimately was what lead to him even considering doing all this. It was for her own benefit, really. He loved her, and her marriage to Winslow had started going severely south, but she was too afraid to bail, just as she had been back then.
Sometimes love wasn't enough, and that's how it was between her and Winslow, in his opinion. When you stopped making each other happy and feeling whole and complete, that was when it was time to end it before it got too ugly. They'd had thirteen years, fifteen, if dating was included, almost all but nine or ten filled with with trials and tribulation. Now Winslow was presumably in a better place along with their kids. They wouldn't have to suffer and neither would Evie. It was the best solution for an eminent, unavoidable problem. He wouldn't let it become like that for him and Evie. He would love her, and he would give her space, allow her to spread her wings and get out to meet people, and in return, she would love him back. They would be happy; there was no doubt about it. Even back when he was masquerading as someone other than himself, they had had fun, got along well. He knew he could take care of her and treat her well. There was no doubt in his mind about it. It might take time before she accepted this, but he had time. He still had a takeover to commandeer.
Once he had her tea fixed, he took out a small vile and poured a little of a clear, undetectable liquid without a taste into the tea and stirred it, destorying the bottle and vanishing it. It was a necessary thing to do, but it was also necessary she didn't know he was the cause of it. The babies would cause a major problem. They wouldn't look like him (and sure, he could convince her it was because he was metamorphmagus), and he couldn't have her going around with them and people asking about Casey or the father or whatever. As far as she would ever know, they were his, and it was a miscarriage Casey had induced when he had abducted her, his way of saying, "If I can't have her, no one can." He'd comfort her and mourn with her, if she'd let him. He brought the tea out to her and offered it to her, hers in some mug he had bought that he figured suited her. It had some modern art design around it that was colorful and vibrant and alive like her.
"Here you are, precious," he told her before walking off with his mug to the bathroom to grab some pain pills andsome balm for the bruising, carrying both containers out and setting them in front of her with a mirror, figuring she probably wouldn't want him to help her. She always had had that independent streak; it was part of what he loved about her but also something that could be quite troublesome. He sat down across from her again and sipped at his tea, setting the mug down on the table and watching her for a few moments before looking down and turning his mug. "I'm so sorry for all of this," he told her. It made sense for him to say, after all, or to seem to feel a little responsible for this in some way and therefore feel a little guilty. She'd never know he was the cause of all of this and that he was truly apologizing in advance for the pain he knew she was about to go through or the long road to "recovery."