Siobhan Callahan (harlequingal) wrote in sanctuaryhprp,
Siobhan Callahan
harlequingal
sanctuaryhprp

Sneaky Time

There was something in slipping out of the Hufflepuff common room, down to the library without acquiring a tagalong wishing to study, and into the farthest back row of old and musty books that spoke to the hopeless romantic in Siobhan Callahan's soul. It certainly didn't hurt either that she was meeting Christian de Monet in the isolated little corner. They hardly had any time together since they had... Well, she supposed the phrase would be "decided to step out together" but it couldn't very well be called that if they never showed anything beyond warm friendship in public. They stood up for each other and walked close and talked often but...

It had been her suggestion to not take it quite public. She knew how house politics worked and, as much as she refused to admit it, she worried over what Queen Grainne could and would do to her Christian. As it was, Caio was having a dreadful enough time; she did what she could and she knew Tanzy spent as much time as possible with him but things still got around. The Gryffindor win over Slytherin wasn't helping the tension any, either.

With a sigh, Siobhan undid her robe and tie and perched herself on a step-stool at the end of the row. Any minute now. She couldn't quite bite back a smile, though. Soon. Very soon. Big brown eyes down, she fiddled with the hem of her skirt and tried not to think about how he made her giggle and blush.
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Christian, too, had slipped away from his Common Room, excusing himself from the sulking Malfoy and Flint over their loss. Christian didn't really care about Quidditch, so he didn't care that they had lost the Cup. Actually, he figured it was karma that Malfoy lost to Potter. It made him laugh; which he didn't do in public, so as to not have the majority of student become traumatized at his sudden surge of good humor. Already he had been scaring his housemates, but it was easy enough for Christian to become "Ice Lad" de Monet around them.

He arrived at the Library and gave a scathing look to a group of younger Gryffindors, who had been going over the Quidditch match in loud whispers. They hushed as he passed, then immediately began ribbing on him once they thought he was out of earshot. Christian couldn't help grinning.

Nearing the row of obscure Herbology books that no one ever touched - he thought it had to do with the "Venus Fly-traps of Unusual Size and Their Care" book that often slipped from the shelf and attacked students - when he dug into his bag and carefully removed a tissue-wrapped object. He ducked around the shelves to stand several yards from Siobhan. He stopped to admire her, his head canting to the side slightly as he did.

She was beautiful, in every way that really mattered to Christian. She didn't paint on make-up - usually just some lip-gloss or mascara, he'd noted, something she had in common with her friend Tanzy - and she didn't try to dress provocatively. Siobhan was simply . . . Siobhan.
As if sensing eyes on her, Siobhan looked up, wide-eyed, her mouth already open as if to shoo an intruder off from the retreat. Upon seeing Christian standing there, her face lit up and she bounced immediately to her feet, skirt falling from her fingers. "Christian!"

She was a lousy actress; her delight in his presence was clear in how she said his name. Within seconds, though, it was made even clearer as she darted forwards and dragged him further back into the safety of their meeting place. Her fingers stayed twined in those of his free hand and she turned back to smile up at him. He always had warm hands, she thought as her dark eyes inspected him eagerly. He looked alright.

There was a sudden shyness to how she reached up and touched his cheek, though, for all her buoyancy at his appearance. "It's good to see you, mate," she murmured.
A bit of him melted at her reaction, like it always did. It was nice to feel wanted, and know it was genuine and not some facade developed to play social games. He wrapped his arms around her and pressed his face against her neck, sighing deeply. It had been a long day, and he had been looking forward to seeing her since he'd woken up that morning. She was like his touchstone; she made him forget all the horrid things in Hogwarts that plagued him.

"Bon soir," he murmured, pulling back a little to look at her. He smiled. "You look very happy today. Was it a good day for you?"
She kept smiling for him, a faint pink touching her cheeks in a way that would have shocked her housemates. "Better than yours, I'm sure." She rested her head against his chest and listened to his heart for a moment, eyes half-closed. "I didn't quite flunk my potions today. You?"
"History of Magic never changes," he said softly. "But that is past. I have brought something for you, which I must confess I had my uncle pick out." He nuzzled her hair, then stepped back to move towards the stool and her stuff. He sat down and beckoned her over, holding up the tissue paper-wrapped thing.

"He is much better at picking out lovely things, but he is also not confined to Hogsmeade." He smiled.
Rather stunned at the impulsive generousity, the Irish witch went wide-eyed and silent for a moment, fumbling in her mind for words. Finally, she giggled and stepped close to him, near enough to press against his knee a bit. "You and your uncle keep this up," she answered lightly, "and I'll have to choose between you both." Carefully, she turned the small package over in her hands, small fingers touching the paper delicately. "You really shouldn't have, though, Christian."
He smiled up at her good-naturedly. "I will just have to try much harder, then. It is more a good luck gift, so you get through your OWLs with as little pain as possible."

He was a bit nervous, but it didn't show, much. "Open it."
Still she hesitated, fingering the paper. Then, suddenly, she leaned forward to brush her lips over his cheek. Almost as quickly, she brought up a hand to rub at the spot. "Sorry," she giggled. "I'm leaving lip gloss on you."

She spared a moment for a coquettish wink and then she set to the package, quickly pulling it apart until she had it open in her hands. Eyes gone huge in her face, she simply stared at the tiny glass creature in wonder.
"Leave all the lip-gloss you wish," he said amiably. He watched as she unearthed the little fairy, then leaned forward to touch its wings.

"I had mentioned how much you enjoyed pink, and he said this would do you well." He looked up at her. "May I assume, from your stunned silence, that you like it?"

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

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cold_christian

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harlequingal

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cold_christian

13 years ago

"I do. It means you can come visit me, and my time will be infinitely better, for having you there."

She giggled and raised her head from his shoulder to meet his teasing blue eyes. "And what if I said I can't do that because I don't want either of us getting in trouble?" she teased.
"Then likely I shall pine away, as a desert flower pines for the cooling rains of winter, to nourish it and make it prosper." He smiled.
Her teasing smile softened, dark eyes gone dreamy, and she leaned her forehead against his. "Poetry," she commented softly. Then she hugged him again tightly and pressed their noses together. "How come no one else realized you could talk like this, mate?"
His eyes never wavered from hers, although they seemed to dull a bit, as if he was thinking of something unpleasant. It took him a few moments to gather his words; Uncle Rupert had demanded that Christian be honest with her, and Christian knew that his uncle was far from stupid about these things.

"Because no one else at Hogwarts has shown me such kindness," he replied softly.
"Oh." Ever so slowly, Siobhan drew back a bit from him and her eyes shone strangely, intent on his. He had been lonely and trapped; she had known that he had never been popular but she had never paused to consider how he felt about it all. Christian "Ice Lad" de Monet never gave the impression that the cold bothered him. Feeling a funny squeeze around her heart, the brunette smiled gently and absently moved a hand from behind his neck to tuck a fallen piece of golden hair back into place. "Their loss, huh?" she offered with a growing smile.
"I am not one to say such things," he said carefully, finally turning his head to look away from her. He'd never been so open with another person not related to him, and he felt embarassed and stupid. A slight flush crept across his cheeks.

He bit his lip in thought, then said, "It is sometimes . . . easier? to be hard, than to show you have feelings. Non?"
"Maybe sometimes." She hesitated for a long moment and then, gently, she gripped his chin and forced his head around so she could look into his eyes again. "I could never do it, though. I've got an awful bloody temper. So does just about everyone in my family. We holler if we're unhappy."

Confident that he would keep eye contact this time, she shifted her hand to rest against his cheek, warm and reassuring. "But I know how the cold way works, too. You..." She bit down on her lower lip for a moment before tilting her face again to touch their foreheads together. "You don't have to be like that with me, pet," she murmured. "I promise I'll listen."
"Oui, mon papillion, oui." His eyes dropped from hers, then hesitantly rose back up. "But, too, you must know how strange this is for me. To trust someone other than myself? Ha. That way typically leads to madness."

He smiled then and shrugged his arms, still around her waist. "How are your studies for OWLs coming?" It was a very abrupt topic shift, but it was his way of coping with problems he did not feel comfortable with.

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

"It's not that long," he said with false cheerfulness, giving himself away with the slight tightening of his arms around her. "And I am sure I could beg some money and time, and visit with you somewhere."

"I'd like that." She didn't move in his arms, pressed close and savoring his warmth. If she thought too hard about it, then what she felt for him made her nervous. A crush at first, then a fight, now... She really did miss him when they were parted and seeing him close off again when he went back to his house made her stomach do strange things. Sometimes it was very hard to not take his hand in hers in the halls and pull him down for a soft kiss. If they weren't at school, she would do that. The summer loomed like a tangible dream, something without restriction to their relationship. The distance, though, made it a lie.

There was no way she could make it to France but, maybe... "Do you think you could make it to London, sometime?" she whispered.
He thought for a moment, then nodded. "It should not be too difficult. If my parents will not let me, then I shall owl Uncle Rupert, and he will make certain that things will go in a good way."

Christian gnawed on his lip for a moment, wondering if he should mention aloud what he was feeling. He was afraid to, of course, simply based off the fact that he was not a person to come out with every little thing roiling through his brain. He did feel comfortable enough about Siobhan to say things he normally wouldn't, but it was all still so new and surreal (for him, at least, being "Ice Lad" and all) to get over the worst of his mental barriers.

"London during the summer is likely fun," he said in lieu of anything else. "And it would be nice to have an actual vacation, non?"
Siobhan lifted her head from his shoulder and smiled. "It'd certainly be nicer than just owls for three months or so." Absently, she stroked a hand up his arm to his shoulder, smoothing his robe. "I reckon I could get to London, no worries," she murmured, obviously working it over in her mind. The getting there wouldn't be the problem, really; it would be the staying. Even her trusting and independent-minded mother would have some choice words on the idea of her daughter staying somewhere with a new boyfriend.

That train of thought was the only excuse for what slipped from her next. "I wish I had a photo of us or you. Mum's after me to see what you look like."
"A photo?" He blinked. "If I knew where a camera could be had, I would oblige you readily." He coughed. "Although I photograph poorly, and often brood in any picture I am in."
She giggled. "I'd make sure you weren't brooding. Promise."
He smiled. "I do not doubt that." Christian tapped her nose with a slender finger. "You have the unholy tendancy to make me smile. Shame on you."
Playfully, she snapped at his finger, laughter making her eyes bright. "I'm a bad, rotten girl, pet," she beamed. Wiggling, she stretched to kiss his finger. "I should probably be punished."
A brief smile flickered over his face, like a candle just lit, before soldifying into a genuine smile. "That comment could be taken in too many directions, mon papillion."

Christian leaned in to nuzzle her hair, brushing his lips against her cheek. "Dangerous, oui. You must watch what you say, else..." He brushed his fingers up her sides, then proceeded to tickle her.

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago

cold_christian

13 years ago

harlequingal

13 years ago