down stairs, in the sun room

[Voltaire Rothschild]

Voltaire stomped down the stairs, he had gone into the study, only to see a covered body there. It bothered him, she had saved a corpse.
He turned and went into the sun room. It was always a bright room, even in the middle of the night, it felt warm. Voltaire sat down heavily on a large ottoman, and pressed a hand to his face. For the first time since he stopped crying in his office, he had time to feel deeper in his heart.

He shut his eyes and began letting go of everything. He was overjoyed to have felt his son in his arms, whole and hale.

"Don't TOUCH me!" she shouted. "This is not the time for that, and do you think I even want to LOOK at you right now? I trusted you to watch our son for 20 minutes while I took a shower... and you LOST him! He should never have left your sight!"

Words tore out of his mind, his heart ripped again.

"Oh, you're just begging for it, aren't you?" she said, trying to act angry. "I'll have you know that I will not become a helpless female who needs her man to do things for her! About the only good thing my wretched parents ever taught me was how to take care of myself, and I am very proud to say that I am completely self-reliant. I don't need you... I only keep you around because I like looking at your face!"

Memories flooded his mind, burning behind his eyes, but just remembering everything felt good and terrible at the same time. He wanted it perfect, like it was before, but she hated him.

He tried to hold back a sob, but failed. He thought he had poured his whole being into loving his wife, instead he acted like an idiot. A love sick prat that didn't do anything right, going so far as to burn toast.

He cried, now she was up stairs, probably thinking of what a great choice she had made by picking him, weak and worthless, of all the men that she could of had.

"Stop looking so pathetic." Her voice echoed in his mind. It hurt to realize he was pathetic. He forgot her, because it hurt to remember her, but ignoring what really happened didn't make it better. Didn't make it hurt less. He thought he could be a little weaker with her, that he could feel a little deeper with her, that it would be alright because she loved him as he loved her. It hurt that it wasn't the case, that he should of kept his heart locked away, no matter how enchanted he had been, because right now, in this moment, it was ripped open again and it hurt. Gods, why did it hurt so much? He tried to rub the tears away, to think 'what if she still loves me?' hurt just as much. The way he had been dismissed had been clear enough hadn't it? Part of himself wanted to strangle his own heart.

"Stop looking so pathetic." he told himself as he dried his eyes again, hoping he got the message and stopped acting like a heart broken git.

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

Evariste pushed open the sun rooms' door. He had heard Voltaire berating himself. He pondered for a moment if he really was the best person to talk to his son, from Marie shoving him down the hall toward the room had said he was the best person, didn't really make him feel confident in any way.

He cleared his throat and stepped into the room "You can't really think that? can you now?" he asked as his son whipped around to look at him. "Shouldn't you at least try and explain to me what happened." he said sitting down across from his son.

[Voltaire Rothschild]

Voltaire Looked at his father, shocked that he was speaking so evenly to him. He rubbed his face again, the skin felt cold and taught, and he began. "I thought the baby would be safe at Hogwarts, If not there...then Where could we go right? I only forgot a bag, I didn't think there would be any harm in leaving him for a bit to get it. When I came back, My office was ransacked. My Zoo, as you so named it, was either locked up, transformed or dead. I panciked and ran to get Isabella, I thought maybe she could track him. When I got to her, all she could do was blame me, as if I had left him in the middle of the great hall or a street. " Voltaire took a breath and went on "she said it was my fault that Natalie had been kidnapped, I guess laying the blame for Sabrina's death at my feet too. I couldn't take it, she went straight to Wesley and asked him for help. I guess the guilt and shame" he left out the fact that it felt like his heart was ripped out and kicked out a window, " broke something in my head, I remembered a burning headache and then, nothing. I got up, dusted myself off and began to search for Ethan...no Conor the only way I knew how." he finished and shrugged his shoulders, to meeting his father's gaze.

[Évariste&Marie Skipit]

Evariste detested the Daily Phophet, but it did make mention of what Voltaire was talking about, at least to the little girls and his son's kidnapping. he nodded as he considered the situation. It was at best delicate. he looked at his son and measured is words carefully before he said each one.
" Voltaire, I know you love her. She loves you, for all it's worth, maybe you just need a bit of time to cool your head, and then talk to her." he said quietly. He stood up and patted his son on the shoulder and then left the room. He felt uncomfortable talking to his son so personally.

[Voltaire Rothschild]

Voltaire looked after the door as it shut. He thought on what his father said and decided it was the best course of action. 'What else could go wrong?' he thought pessimstically. he laid out on the sofa that was in the room and fell into a sleep, his body taxed from not only the battle, but the walk to the house as well.