Chapter 2
The day was long, a terrible long and exhausting day. The wind was sharp, almost painful against the face. A sharp stinging reminding James of the importance of his scarf and hat, which he solemnly left in his cabin. His eyes are squinting against the cotton ball like snow falling from the concrete coloured sky. He’s trying to be as fast as he can, gathering firewood for the guests that decided only last night that they ‘absolutely must come early, it’s rather a matter of family’, which he didn’t really think was a good excuse, well, he didn’t know what it meant to even figure out if it was a good excuse.
It was some aristocratic family, a lulling bored voiced man spewed it late last night, which begs the question, why on earth would they be wanting to come to the smallest Bed and breakfast in the whole of north yorkshire. But, he didn’t want to say to no, money was tight, and he assumed with their urgency they probably wouldn’t mind a little bit of an extra charge for the inconvenience.
It was the 21st of December and as James trailed back to his cabin, lugging back pounds upon pounds of this god forsaken firewood, that weighs a fucking ton, he tried his best not to let the loneliness of christmas weigh on him too heavy.
He gets to his door, kicking it open and dropping the wood in the corner, he shakes himself like a dog to rid himself of the excess snow on his face and body, finally, he thinks, finally I can just rest.
James takes himself to his bathroom in his small out house, just a stones throw away from the cabin itself. He strips down and stares at his reflection in the mirror, his beard is covered in glistening white specks of snow. It reminds him of his mum, she hated his beard, dad liked it, but dad liked everything and anything.
“James, the heatings gone!” Someone bellows from outside the house.
Remus. Ah, lovely Remus forever here to remind James of the countless things he needs to fucking fix.
”Yeah, I know!”
”No!” Remus shouts again, “The pipes are leaking all over the floors”
James sighs, pulling back on his freezing clothes and meeting Remus back inside the cabin and staring at the dripping ceiling, making itself down onto the auburn leather couches he replaced only a few months back.
”Buggering fuck Remus”
Remus throws him a pitying frown, “Could cancel the booking.”
”We could murder ourselves as-well, but unfortunately there are bills to pay and a family coming tonight, or maybe even sooner, since they didn’t have the gratuity to just wait-“
”James, I don’t like your attitude,” Remus grins, “I’ll get the bucket and the tools.”
James sighs heavily squinting up to the ceiling and then taking a few deep breaths. It’s fine. It’s all really totally fine. It’s just one more thing!
He spends the next few hours shirtless and covered in grease whilst Remus holds a ladder, truly, he doesn’t really know what to do anymore about this place. It’s falling apart at the seams. Every other day its a leak, a faulty gas line, and an even faultier radiator that hums and rattles in the coldest of days.
By the time the whole palaver is done James is soaked in sweat, his hands are red raw from twisting and tightening bolts and screws. Just as he’s about to go and shower, again, the door swings open, a flurry of voices emerging, that all quickly stop when they see James and Remus stood dumbly before them.
”And Sirius, just shut up about the signal it hardly matters-“ A woman with fierce storm grey eyes looks at James’ body and then at her assumed husband, “We aren’t lost are we?”
James clears his throat, looking at Remus for some support on how he explains himself to be shirtless and grubby when his Bed and breakfast’s whole synopsis is that professionalism and cleanliness is their forte.
”Welcome to the Willow arms,” Remus says, “We were just doing some maintenance.”
”Why are you shirtless?” The older man says.
James looks to the younger men, they’re practically identical, perhaps twins, but he can tell one is younger, due to the fact his face hasn’t lifted from his phone in his hand, amidst the whole ordeal.
They were all painfully similar, the same face copy and pasted onto 4 pale long bodies. Truthfully they were kind of creepy.
”My shirt got ripped doing the work,” He admits and then proceeds to sigh. “You’re early.”
”You said you didn’t mind.” The woman says clearly, swatting Remus’ hand from taking her luggage.
Remus looks back and rolls his eyes at James as he takes himself outside to put away the tools.
”I apologise, but this was quite an urgent matter, but rest assured your rooms are ready and everything and anything you will need is fully available and usable.”
He’s trying to sound happy they’re here. He’s not at all happy about it.
“I’m Mrs Black, this is Mr Black, please address us as such,” She sniffs in the direction of her assumed sons, “This is Sirius, and Regulus Black, Address them as you please, they rarely answer to their names.”
James nods, noticing the older boy looking at him. Great. Stuck up rich snobs! No doubt his amenities will fall short at whatever it is they’re used to. Maybe this whole thing was some sort of christmas prank, put on him to remind him of the small joys of Christmas.
Or perhaps they’re just arseholes.
He walks them to their suite and before he can give them a rundown on how things work the door is slammed in his face.
The worst, this is the absolute worst.
He finds Remus in the kitchens talking with the staff, James sits on the table, looking at them all staring back at him.
”I know, its bad.” He admits.
“Bad” Remus snorts, sipping his coffee, “They’re awful!”
“Are they famous?” Lily, the head chef says with a raised brow.
”Dunno, to be honest.”
”Remus say’s they’re gorgeous.” She adds.
James thinks of their faces and can’t help but disagree. Yes they were attractive, if you were a vampire, or perhaps used to seeing malnourished people.
”They’re just here until Christmas.” He assures them.
Remus shrugs. “I think we’ll be fine, but I wouldn’t expect a glowing review. Also, James, do put on a shirt.”
He looks down at himself, his body covered in grease and black smudges. Tiredly, he tells them the itinerary for the weekend and gets himself back to his outhouse.
He shaves his beard and trims his hair, poorly but it will do, he feels better for it, and looks better for it. Winter had made his skin look dull and his nose was peeling away with dry skin. The shower was heaven, he sat down, just staring at the glass walls.
It was all going to be worth it for the week off in January, a trip away to sunny Spain, with drinks and pools and perhaps, for once in his life, some peace and quiet.
This was going to be a painfully long 5 days.