Credence has had a troubled childhood, and as a result of the abuse he suffers at the hand of his adoptive mother, he comes to crave affection from others. Any kind of affection. Aurelia knew him long ago. She was the only one to show any care for t...
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The sky had darkened from bleak grey to a familiar black by the time Aurelia arrived at the Goldestein's apartment. The building itself was fairly new, and had somehow managed to squeeze its way between a converted warehouse and block of hotels. Aurelia climbed the narrow stairway to the fourth floor, eyes scanning each section for their number.
Apartment 12-D came into view and she found herself staring at its sleek wooden door for longer than she had intended. She was much too nervous about this encounter. With arms folded tightly across her chest she tapped her foot, impatient at herself for delaying the inevitable. Her hand gently curled into a fist, and after another minute of contemplating whether her curiosity was worth the visit, she gave a firm knock.
Aurelia had just started to regret not knocking a little quieter when the door was swung open. Porpentina gave a welcoming smile despite Aurelia's prompt movement to hide against the wall. "Elia, what are you doing?"
"Is Queenie here?" She whispered hurriedly.
Porpentina's lip stretched into a smirk, fingers tapping against the door frame. "Of course she is. You can't avoid her forever."
A muscle twitched involuntarily at the corner of Aurelia's right eye, and her mouth formed a rigid grimace. "I can try..."
"Ooh! Is that you, Elia?" A voice as sweet as melted caramel called out. "I'd know those thoughts anywhere!"
Aurelia sighed, head hanging low and arms dangling in defeat. Porpentina looked as if she were about to laugh, but instead she stepped aside to let Aurelia pass.
The kitchen was the first thing thing to be noticed. It was so small that a square table dominated the space, an elongated ellipse of oak with flattened edges and a man tucked eagerly into it. At the stove was Queenie, her short blonde hair in tight, permanent curls and her flawless skin illuminated by a nearby lamp. She was biting her lip, as she usually did, and waving her wand delicately in the air; Aurelia swore she was like a ballerina with that wand, every motion looked so graceful and easy but to do it was a bigger challenge than one would expect. Aurelia had tried to cast a spell like her once and almost burnt down an entire building.
She looked to her right, straight into the living room where Newt sat with a restless look dominating his features. His leg bounced up and down as if he didn't know how to sit still, and when he nodded his greeting to Aurelia, he looked like he'd rather be anywhere else.
"Don't mind him, he's just worried about his creatures." Queenie suddenly said, directing a few sliced carrots into the boiling water. They floated in but made no splash when they fell.
Aurelia glanced around, blue eyes looking pleadingly at the woman. "Please, Queenie... What have I told you about reading my mind?"
The shuffling of fabric could be heard as Newt shifted on the couch, resting his elbows on his knees and his chin on top of folded hands. "She does it that often?"
