Y Stabal, Llanuwchllyn, United Kingdom, Saturday

[bitchprince]

They'd gotten in an hour or so before sundown last night, and Arthur had spent rather a lot of time hanging out in front of windows, staring at the countryside. He couldn't help it-- being here both helped and hindered his homesickness.

It was a good thing they'd only scheduled a week, or he might have chosen to stay rather than return to Fandom. If they couldn't get home after graduation...

Anyway. It was a new day now, and there were various Plans for both the inside and the outside of the house he'd rented. Such was life.

[[ await the ocd! ]]

Comments

Re: The House

[bitchprince]

Arthur shrugged. "That's the idea," he said.

Although, you know, there were a whole bunch of ways to get out of it.

Re: The House

[thatsamilkshake]

Ways that didn't involve poisoning your spouse or having them executed? Oh, convents. Right.

"That's the idea here too. Well, not the hating each other. You know what I mean." It's a grape, not your father's head, Francine. Eat it.

Re: The House

[bitchprince]

"You can't just cut it off like that, anyway," said Arthur, who was trying to avoid letting this go towards anything he'd have to worry about in the future.

Re: The House

[thatsamilkshake]

Sure you can cut it off. Just ask Peter Abelard. Ahem. We now return you to your non-snarky third person narration.

"It might be..." Better if you could, Francine was going to say, but yeah. The weather was good, the place was beautiful the house smelled like bread, and enough of that. "Whatever. I guess it'll be nice to see the place again, but it's not home."