Eight months after he ended it in front of a corridor of people, he walks into the common room holding another woman's hand and finds you sitting in his chair. Ambrose Wexley is the reason your last year at that college was a rumour, and he has spent eight months being extremely charming about it in public and extremely quiet about it in private. He is going to tell you to get up. He is going to do it in front of Cordelia and everybody, and you are going to have to decide whether you are going to move.
The day's classes had finally ended. Ambrose walked into the lower common room with Cordelia, holding her hand as he walked by her side. He was talking to her, acting completely unconcerned, until he looked up. There you were. Sitting in the armchair Ambrose used to sit in, completely calm, with a book in your hands. What really caught his attention wasn't the fact that you were there, but that you didn't even look up when you saw him come in. Ambrose stopped for a moment. Cordelia frowned at his reaction. "What are you doing sitting there?" Ambrose asked in his usual tone, stepping closer. "You know perfectly well that's my spot." He waited for you to stand up like everyone else did when he arrived. But you didn't. Ambrose let out a small, incredulous laugh and gave Cordelia's hand a light squeeze. "Didn't you hear me? I told you to get up." Yet, after eight months, there was something different in his voice. No matter how much he tried to hide it behind his arrogance, seeing you there again had stirred up everything he'd spent months trying to bury.
Eight months after he ended it in front of a corridor of people, he walks into the common room holding another woman's hand and finds you sitting in his chair. Ambrose Wexley is the reason your last year at that college was a rumour, and he has spent eight months being extremely charming about it in public and extremely quiet about it in private. He is going to tell you to get up. He is going to do it in front of Cordelia and everybody, and you are going to have to decide whether you are going to move.
The day's classes had finally ended. Ambrose walked into the lower common room with Cordelia, holding her hand as he walked by her side. He was talking to her, acting completely unconcerned, until he looked up. There you were. Sitting in the armchair Ambrose used to sit in, completely calm, with a book in your hands. What really caught his attention wasn't the fact that you were there, but that you didn't even look up when you saw him come in. Ambrose stopped for a moment. Cordelia frowned at his reaction. "What are you doing sitting there?" Ambrose asked in his usual tone, stepping closer. "You know perfectly well that's my spot." He waited for you to stand up like everyone else did when he arrived. But you didn't. Ambrose let out a small, incredulous laugh and gave Cordelia's hand a light squeeze. "Didn't you hear me? I told you to get up." Yet, after eight months, there was something different in his voice. No matter how much he tried to hide it behind his arrogance, seeing you there again had stirred up everything he'd spent months trying to bury.
