ᴘᴀʀɪs ᴛʀɪᴘ

@－ ❛ s ❜：colby rangvaldr。⁰² ( H ) she follows him without argument as they adventure further into the small but homey café, hands resting in her coat pockets whilst she looks around, observing the area to take in the interior of the store. her focus does indeed fall upon the words inked across the wall as she takes a seat, pulling her hands from her pockets to instead cross them over her crossed legs. "interesting," she muses, lips pursed. "i have not read much rimbaud. recently i've been doing a lot of italian readings, not really french. though my mother taught me some when i was young. she mostly enjoyed jacques prévert." a small glance around the café tells her that it's fairly popular with muggles, a few tables being occupied with people who have desired to bask in the café's ambiance on this lonesome night. her eyes flicker down to her hands, where she fingers a button on her coat. it seemed that their conversation always turned to such topics. perhaps she wondered if for once they could converse like normal friends—like their likes, dislikes, the highs and lows of their vacations—not that eleanora had much knowledge regarding 'normal friends.' she clears . "did you have a good vacation?"

@－ ❛ s ❜：eleanora hwang。⁰³ he followed her silently – maybe like a predator, or like an obedient son. likely the first, he felt as though every single second of his life must be spent on high alert – he has not been anyone’s son for quite a while. he closed the door, and it rang shortly. it was just a signal that let the owner know new customers arrived. given the space was rather small and in a weird part of town, extra precaution was needed – or so he thought. he leaded her to a secluded table, somewhere under fairy lights and some christmas decorations. they were subtle enough for him not to consider them tacky, and the table was far enough from other humans to offer them some privacy. “really?” he asked, a little surprised that she did not manage to read this side of him – but then, he cannot be all that surprised. after all, he barely opened up. he pointed at the wall behind their table, he did not have to look. “my french is not that good, but that reads ‘I believe that I am in hell, therefore I am there’. arthur rimbaud,” it was a pretty quote, he thought. he was acquainted with many muggle and wizard french poets, rimbaud was one of them. and despite the quote not being marked as belonging to rimbaud, he knew it did. it was quite an odd quote to have in such a lovely café, it was exactly why he enjoyed it.

@－ ❛ s ❜：colby rangvaldr。⁰² perhaps she should have predicted that he would answer as so; in her mind, it always felt as though cole utilized such complex aphorisms as both distractions and invitations—diversions from the lighter conversation at hand, yet also invitations to delve into his mind and discover the secrets inside, hidden like the world’s finest jewels. if only eleanora had the energy to constantly decipher his words. pursing her roseate lips into a horizontal line as she walks in (though not without offering him a slight nod of her head as a ‘thank you’ for his polite gesture), the dark-haired demoiselle takes in the environment of the café with quiet observing eyes. while the majority of her time in paris was spent exploring cafés, this one had gone undiscovered. meeting him tonight was not a happy accident, though she never considered it so. “i just never took you for one to enjoy such places.” she turns to look at him, eyebrow cocked just the slightest. “will you recommend me something?”

@－ ❛ s ❜：eleanora hwang。⁰³ he caught her words a little later than he would have liked to – perhaps having one of his senses nearly disabled made him think slower. in any other circumstance, like say after a dozen drinks, he would have laughed. but right now, he only managed a demure smile as he answered under his breath. “it is not like we ever see through the fog, but we make it work,” his implications were more philosophical than a simple layer on glass – a foggy mind would have been a better expression. he did not dwell on the conversation, it would have ruined the splendid night – and all those little lights that were so eager to show them a way home. he frowned a little, but he could not really blame her – he did like to hang out in less civilised places, and he adored the atmosphere of a loud bar concert. however, with how calming paris appeared in his vision, this place suited the mood far better. “I do go out, you know,” he answered and held the door open to let her go in first. it was a habit he picked up when he was a child, and he did not do it only for women – he did it for anyone. it must have been because of his height, or because he felt responsible for doors – whatever it was, he was not used to walk in first, so he did not. “consider it a happy accident.”

[] oh god it got so long im sorry

@－ ❛ s ❜：colby rangvaldr。⁰² in a way, the quiet, nearly abandoned streets of paris that they venture through remind her of herself. she too is reticent and desolate past a certain point, perhaps when the curtain of nightfall presents itself upon the city. the streets are quiet at this point, and most people would flock to the main attractions of the infamous town—the eiffel tower, the louvre, or notre dame. but eleanora has always preferred the small victories, the curbside joys that don’t need to be shared. perhaps, in a way she is like that—a hidden region plated in darkness, illuminated by lights that invite misfortune, her hidden pleasures overlooked. no one chooses to seek it; which is fine, she never needed anyone to look inside anyways. she rubs her hands to preserve some warmth, wishing she had brought her gloves. instead she sticks them into her coat pockets, balling them into fists to exert energy. “it’s not as though you can see through the fog,” she retorts quietly, though she looks up from where she had been tracing the ground with her gaze, when his words indicate their arrival. “it’s…” not what she had expected. for some reason, she must have thought he’d drag her to a pub or any location that would match his familiar brooding persona. “it’s nice.” she walks forward the slightest, cold hands already wrapping around the circumference of the door handle to pull it open, welcoming him in. “how did you come to find this place?”

@－ ❛ s ❜：eleanora hwang。⁰³ it will not happen again, if he could help it – it was what he told himself. but time had the ability to fool people in ways they do not expect. when they started walking, he started warming up – the sound of the snow played a very early memory in his mind, like an old movie. it was not that vivid, but it was reoccurring – a small boy slipping on ice, reaching for his parents’ hands. so innocent, so little – he just learnt how to walk, and was brave enough to try the ice. he wondered if anyone else was like him, slipping on ice and later on red liquid they do not understand. out of all good memories with snow, that came to mind – that infant headspace he tried to leave behind one too many times, wrapping it in far too many words. he noticed her gesture, it was one his once girlfriend used to make – most people found winter discomforting. maybe, sixteen year old him would have offered her a warm hand to hold – but twenty year old him kept his hands away, tucked in his coat’s pockets. he listened to her, the streets complemented her, he thought. “I think it is not a terrible option,” he answered, and took a turn to follow the street and find that one small place he was talking about. “it is either the fog, or me bumping into you for the entire walk. I took the less embarrassing option,” he stopped before the beautifully decorated entrance of the small café. “this is it.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：colby rangvaldr。⁰² in their limited meetings eleanora has deduced how difficult it is to produce a joking tone from the often stone-faced man, who prefers to keep his entertainment limited to a party of one. so when he does so, typically solemn voice dripping of a saccharine teasing tone, she bites down on her lip with an amused smile. “at least you know. it will be the first of many, hopefully, if i manage to beat you out for punctuality once more.” as the cold begins to seep into her hands, she cups them and presses them to her lips, blowing some warm air into them; it’s a habit that her mother had long chastised her for, deeming it unladylike, but her mother isn’t here to scold her. “oh? the streets really are beautiful. the streets of hogsmeade aren’t nearly as sightly.” she purses her lips slightly, snow crackling beneath her boots as she walks. “i would not mind living in paris, post-hogwarts…” she looks to him, and her lips fall apart the slightest, parting. “your glasses are fogging,” she comments quietly, mindlessly.

This was much closer to his home, more than he'd ever like to admit. Though it was unlikely he'd see his parents, the thought kept appearing in his mind, and uneasiness was eating at him every step he took through the city. Out of his usual cloak and school attire, the male adjusted his matte black coat followed by gripping tighter onto one of his backpack straps. It was undeniable that exploring was more fun when it was with somebody else. Yet, his tour-guide-of-a-friend wouldn't be here to assist him for another 2 hours. Luciel brushed past a couple, stepping to the side and out of others' way so that he could check his pocket book, where he wrote a good measure of notes for himself.

@－ ❛ s ❜：eleanora hwang。⁰³ his glasses fogged up soon after he put them on, there was no winning with temperature. but given he knew they will adjust soon, he did not take them off again. he walked closer to her, his hands in his pockets out of habit. “you will hold this against me forever, won’t you, milady?” he said, in a somewhat joking tone. it was true that as slytherins they both shared the satisfaction of ‘I told you so’s and ‘remember when’s. he had the tendency of reminding people of their past mistakes, sometimes arrogantly so. he did not doubt that if given the chance, eleanora would do the same. he adjusted his breath soon, the coldness was rather comforting – and the pretty streetlights made his late arrival worth it. he chose not to bring his camera this time, but his phone could take pretty pictures too. still, he did not take it out, not yet. “we shall walk,” he added, then looked in the distance. “there is a small place nearby, quite pretty if you ask me. I enjoy the parisian lights show. I wish they made streets like these at hogwarts,” he gestured at the long street before them, which was decorated beautifully with fairy lights and some large snowflakes.

@－ ❛ s ❜：colby rangvaldr。⁰² she occupies herself with observing the interesting parisian architecture and designs of the castle's entrance area, though the lightest smile bites at her tiers at the idea that in a strange city, she had arrived before cole. in their occasional meetings, be it in hagrid's hut or at the very edge of the forbidden forest, he would overtake her in arriving first; even if she were five minutes early, he was ten. like cole, punctuality was something she prided on. therefore, even if the enigmatic male were running late by—she checks her watch—five minutes, she's entertained by the idea of finally outdoing him. when he finally makes his presence, voice cutting through the cold air, she shrugs her coat-clad shoulders. "don't apologize. it's retribution for all the minutes you must have wasted waiting for me." he had had the habit of photographing her whenever he felt suit, which eleanora didn't mind. however, now looking at him, with the backdrop of beauxbatons' castle and the falling slivers of snow, eleanora decides she'd quite like this picture as well. "shall we walk?"

@－ ❛ s ❜：eleanora hwang。⁰³ trying to find your way out of the beauxbatons premise was quite a challenge. one too many times did cole take a wrong turn and ended up in a creepy hallway – which worked for the better, he loved dark paths. however, it was impractical when you tried to reach somewhere. he had relatively good orientation skills, but the entire place set him off – and he wished he owned a map or something. somehow, he found his way out, running through those hallways he wanted to explore later. he was wearing a comfortable black outfit, his black coat, and his glasses – to his dismay, they reacted to the cold weather and he had to put them on his head to find his friend. luckily, he was not too late – he hated making people wait for him, punctuality meant a great deal to him. he joined the girl five minutes too late, and it was bothering him. “I love the architecture, but why do they need so many twists and turns?” he was panting a little when he arrived. he slid his glasses back on his nose, otherwise, she looked a lot like a green and silver blob. his vision was significantly worse at night. “sorry to keep you waiting, I hope you are not too cold.”

@－ ❛ s ❜：colby rangvaldr。⁰² Navigating the halls of Beauxbatons Academy is somewhat difficult, given that the studentship and architecture is greater than that of Hogwarts—and Eleanora had thought, initially, that the Hogwarts Castle was exceptionally large. Beauxbatons’ campus is even larger. Donning a pair of dark muggle jeans paired with a dark green blouse, a black coat, and a silver scarf (she is a Slytherin in and out, after all), she manages to find the gate which leads into the entrance of the city. She stands solemnly, hands tucked securely into her coat pockets as she awaits the arrival of her dinner partner, finding entertainment in observing the curves of the stone path.