His parents had announced that they were Going to the Lake, and had tried to drag him along, but he'd pointed out to them that if they would just schedule these things in advance, he might be able to come along -- but as it was, he had plans.
The phone rang; it was them. Lady Malfoy wanted to know how I took my pizza. (For the record, pretty much any standard pizza topping but pineapple or anchovy is fine.)
They came back. Nothing steamy happened while we were alone. His hair is growing out nicely. Come job interview time, it'll surely be sacrificed again, but I can enjoy it in between times. There was much complaining and a spirited discussion between Malfoy Senior and Lady Malfoy about Malfoy Senior's driving habits. Lady Malfoy quoted the condition of the road as being rather extremely hilly, hills higher than her head and the house. Malfoy Senior brushed off her comments, saying they were anthills and speedbumps. I was put in the position of helplessly giggling onlooker, and accomplice in bringing in groceries.
Darkside had better not get himself kicked out, because I have run out of living room floor space. Though if he does (doubtful; he's a good and dutiful son who does housework) and can't land himself a flat right quick, there will be a snagging and some asylum (I'll likely take the floor) and a quick and desperate negotiation session or two that may wind up with a larger flat or something. Though I'd hate to take him in stray and then just keep him. I'd far rather have him come to me by his choice, or ask me to come to him.
Malfoy Senior loaded up the saved episodes of Jay Leno. There was giggling, because he had to rewind them -- Darkside had already watched them, and so they were not at the beginning as they should have been. After a very few minutes, I broke out Going Postal. At length Darkside and I retired to his room, given that Jay Leno was not giving me joy and Malfoy Senior was not taking Darkside's very broad "Hey, Dad, our guest is bored!" so-called hints. (That's what he was saying, pretty near verbatim. Cue me giggling.) He made a few suggestions about entertainment, and we wound up settling on the new Pink Panther.
That was fun. There was no inappropriate behavior, as much as I would have liked a little. He wound up with a headache from the day and too much rootbeer and the pizza and all that. I have too fragile a Darkside. I resisted the temptation to slip my arm around his waist and spoon up behind him, as he and I do not have that kind of relationship where I could get away with something like that. I asked if he was all right, and he didn't bother to lie. I offered to leave; he pointed out that the movie was almost over and we might as well finish it. So we did. And he was warm and smiling despite it all.
"You have a long drive home" is the refrain of the ends of these afternoons of peace.