Who: Winnie Llewellyn & Adian Rosenberg
What: UM LMAO
Where: Twilfit and Tattings, Diagon Alley!
When: RECENTLY
His interview with the Prophet had gone so well, Adian practically glided through the streets of Diagon in an euphoric daze. He would be employed again! Hopefully. At a place that didn’t make him want to pluck his eyeballs out of boredom.
Hopefully. Louis would be able to stop seducing the Landlady! Please Merlin. He glanced down at the small card in his hand, smiling brightly at the name of his interviewer. Greta Catchlove was going to encourage the Prophet to hire him and help get his life back on track, he was sure of it! But he shouldn’t lose her card, so in a rush, Adian quickly stuffed the small piece of parchment back into his pocket as his gaze dreamily wandered about the busy and colorful street.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, a flash of golden hair gleamed through a store window in the winter sun. Adian came to a startling halt just prior to passing by, and immediately backpedaled to properly squish his face up against the glass. Was that---?
He let out a yelp, and quickly jumped back into the street. That golden flash within Twilfit and Tattings was
Winnie Llewellyn! The very witch that had shown up at his and Louis’ flat not weeks ago slaps flying because he had snog-and-dashed her.
Adian bit his lip, and felt his fingers begin to twitch anticipation. He
really shouldn’t, he had barely made it out of their last (only?) encounter with his skin intact. Louis had gone through a bit because of his New Year’s identity flub, so it would really be pushing his luck if---
He winced when the bell above jingled as he opened the door, and quickly Adian scurried out of sight and behind a large rack of hanging fabric to avoid any further attention. It couldn’t hurt to be just a bit curious, would it? He really only had stories from Louis to go off of, and not to say that his friend was lying, but you should never go off a secondary source for something, yes? He would just… quietly pretend to shop until--- wait. Adian promptly unbent his back, popping over the racks in an attempt to locate his person of interest. Where had she gone? Hadn’t she just… while leaning back on his heels for a better look, Adian shifted his weight too quickly, and veered off balance. His eyes cringed shut as he bumped into what he could only assume was a body (fingers crossed for a mannequin), and without looking, he spun to grab the person before he or she fell.
“Sorry!” he rushed, taking his time to look upon the face of his accosted. “I didn’t mean t--” Adian froze, his grip on both the witch’s shoulders tightened only from a basic reflex of terror. Oh
there she was. A queasy and apologetic smile appeared on his face.
The rude jostle which upset Winnie's balance was only the most recent in a long line of gross misfortunes which happened to befall the young witch.
She opened her mouth to thoroughly lambast the oaf which had knocked her over on what was supposed to be a calm, therapeutic shopping trip, and demand he unhand her
at once, when her hair ceased attempting to drown her, and her cleared eyes beheld his face.
It was a nice face, a
handsome face, to be sure, but that wasn't what had given her pause. Although there was no name, no family, nor even a party she associated with this wizard, he struck a chord of familiarity in her. Surely she was acquainted with every eligible Pure-blood male that lived in the Wizarding world of Britain, was she not?
The idea that that meant this person was then perhaps
not a Pure-blood had her wrestling away from his iron-clad and rather uncouth grip on her shoulders. "I suppose not
everyone was blessed enough to be born with the grace I possess," Winnifred said haughtily, as she attempted to edge away from him, unable to bring herself to be as rude to the familiar-seeming-yet-not boy as she had been planning to be.
A nervous tick of a laugh escaped him, and Adian pulled back his bottom lip to help curb the breathy noise he was emitting. Had he really just given an impressive interview to be an assistant journalist at the only reputable newspaper in Wizarding Britain? Because by the looks of this already failed investigative heist, he really didn’t deserve the job at all.
Noticing her obvious discomfort, and feeling if he kept his hands on her any longer he might lose them, Adian jerkily released Winnie. Leaning back, one of his free hands went to rub against his chin. Before he could think much else of what to do next concerning how to efficiently (and politely) retreat, words began to bumble out of his mouth.
“No, I definitely was not,” he nodded, a smile still stuck on his face. What was he even saying? Adian would admit, while he was aware his mouth was moving, his eyes were stuck on her rosy lips and his mind was far too preoccupied with how soft her face looked. Wait, what was he doing?
“The day I was born the world took any grace I had and gave it to someone else. You, probably, or some famous ballerina. Definitely a person that has never had to deal with an exchange… like this…” Adian trailed off, feeling especially uncomfortable as he felt her heavy gaze on him. His hand swerved to rub the back of his head. “Apologies... about that...”
Adian looked away for a moment, intent on releasing a bout of excess breath when he noticed a lone delicate-looking handbag on the ground. “You dropped your purse,” he blurted, and immediately bent down to pick it up, and, perhaps, breaking the long leading-on look they had begun to share.
Winnie blinked big, round green eyes at this wizard as he retrieved her reticule. True, he may have been something of a bumbling oaf, but he had
manners… rough around the edges though he might be. It was certainly more than she could say for
some of her peers, and that alone was enough to recommend him as being worth at least a few of her words.
If Winnifred was not greatly mistaken, she was feeling rather charmed by him, in spite of herself. He inspired a sense of familiarity or something of the sort within her. And he too recognised that innate poise she carried herself with, so she was bound to find him a least a little amiable.
"Do I… know you?" she asked, batting her eyelashes slightly. She held her hand out grandly for him to slide her purse on,
shuddering to think about the fate of the antique silk languishing on the floor, with the grime and dirt it must have collected, that would shortly be on her—
On second thought, she withdrew her wrist.
Adian froze for a moment, face caught in a wide-eyed expression. Did she know him? If there was ever a question to avoid answering. His clutch on Winnie Llewellyn’s purse quickly tightened to both hands, and he unconsciously pulled it close to his chest. “Me?” he echoed, hoping to feign a look of surprise. “No, nope.”
That was his cue to leave, this was
definitely his cue to bow away gracefully before any damage that Louis had covered for him was undone. Glancing away from Winnie’s face, Adian looked around for an exit. There wasn’t one, but at least the robes shop was relatively empty and therefore no one could be witness to this embarrassment. An apologetic smile appeared on his face again.
“Not in the slightest. We have---” he slowly began to inch away, deciding it his best bet to work backwards, “--- never met before, I am sure. I would have definitely remembered your---” Adian jerked, running his back into a rack of robes. “I would have remembered you.” He pulled back his hands, fiddling to make a pathway through the cloth. Having completely forgotten he was still holding onto her purse, he used like an extension of his own hand to clear a pathway.
“Well!” he practically wheezed, feeling his heart pumping far too fast. “It was nice meeting you, best get back to shopping now!” Good thing his blood was pumping because he was really going to need to sprint soon, he couldn’t help but think as the robes fell back and created a temporary wall between them.
Winnie watched him bumble away with a sort of detached astonishment, until she caught sight of the dusky pink bag falling with him.
"My purse!" she shrieked, hurrying after him. "You
thief!"
It was not, one would agree, the most lady-like of things to be doing, chasing a criminal in a fine clothing establishment. Had Winnifred not been so completely incensed, she would have thoroughly lambasted Twilfit & Tattings for their poor scrutiny of the clientele and demanded she be reimbursed for damages physical, mental, and monetary.
But since she was taken entirely off guard, she was picking up the skirts of her powder blue robes and running after the trail of fallen clothing racks and bemused looking patrons left by the thief who thought he could outwit her.
"I'm going to have you—
arrested!" she snapped breathlessly, sure she had cornered him in the back of the store. Winnie whirled about, looking for a place he might be hiding, when she heard a slight
thud, and caught one foot disappearing beneath the low-hanging curtain of one of the dressing rooms.
"A-
ha!" declared Winnie triumphantly.
He absolutely had
not meant to steal her purse, he really hadn’t--- even if, upon a glancing inspection down at his hands, it was easy to deduce that this accessory alone would pay for at least six months worth of his rent. It had been an accident, he hadn’t been
thinking, and now he wasn’t thinking even more because why in the world would he delude himself into believing that
hiding in the dressing room would be a proper method of evasion? Adian winced as he heard Winnie shriek, and after stumbling back in relative terror, he quickly climbed up onto the bench attached to the wall. Why? Perhaps so that it would be more difficult for her to reach his neck from this elevated angle. Throat closing up at the mere thought, Adian backed himself into the corner of the small room and ducked so that his head wouldn’t pop up over the dividers.
When the heavy curtain of a door flew open, Adian took in a sharp breath and tried his very best to not close his eyes at the probable sight of his demise. She looked a bit angry. He would be too, he supposed, if he thought someone was stealing (poorly) right under his nose. Adian’s mouth fumbled as his entirely blank mind floundered to produce any kind of excuse.
“I could have
you arrested!” he blurted, eyes widening as she struck the curtain shut in one fluid motion. “What are you doi---- excuse me!” Adian yelped as she reached up toward him, grabbing with a surprisingly strong grip on his robes. He felt a powerful tug, and after a bit of a struggle, Adian awkwardly crashed down to the seat he had previously been standing on.
“
This is a private dressing room!” he half yelped, half hissed, and quickly stuck out his empty hands to keep her at bay from him.
"ME?
ARRESTED?" Winnie cried, staring at the thief dumbfoundedly, shaking the bag restored to her rightful possession as close to his face as the barrier of his arms would allow, swatting him. "You're the one who robbed my
purse, you crook!"
She ceased the slight frenzy she was in and stepped back, tossing her hair back to regain her composure. Using the full force of her glare on him, now much more effective since he was closer in height to her than before, she sneered.
Confronting petty criminals in private dressing rooms did not strictly constitute ladylike behaviour, but gaining the upperhand on them certainly couldn't be frowned upon… improprietous as it was.
"I can have
you locked up with a snap of my fingers," Winnie taunted him, nose firmly in air. It was true—aside from being entirely in the legal right, having the Department of Magical Law Enforcement in one's pocket made it very easy to issue arrests.
“It was an accident!” Adian retorted, finally opening his eyes now that she had stopped whacking him with her purse. After regarding Winnie for a few seconds, he promptly realized that yes, she would absolutely through her will and power get him locked up with the snap of her fingers. A sweat broke out over his brow. He really had no desire to return to Hit-wizard lock up, even if for yet another minor offense.
“I didn’t
mean to take it!” His mouth began to run, and uncomfortably Adian began to fidget in his seat, wishing to stand up but knowing better. Standing up, or appearing to do anything threatening would make matters much worse, he was sure. “I wasn’t paying attention and then you started
chasing me and---” Adian let out a deep sigh, and promptly slumped into his seat. Thank Merlin most dressing rooms like this were charmed for privacy, or else he was sure a person of authority would have already barged in and dragged him away.
“Sorry! I’m sorry!” he cried, the adrenaline still pumping through his veins quickening his manner of speech. And was he--- Adian scolded himself, for even now, with her chin held high and a glare to kill, he still found himself… confusingly allured by her.
"I would expect a thief who has been caught red-handed to say nothing less," she sniffed. After all, wasn't it
preposterous that someone just simply
forgot that he was walking away with a valuable antique tucked into his arms? And then had kept
running after she loudly called attention to that fact?
Yet, he was looking at her in a way that was not only quite pitiable, as if all the tales he had spun her really were true, but also in a manner she found to be quite agreeable. It all struck a very familiar chord in her, and Winnie started to seriously consider the idea that she might really know him from somewhere, rather than a con artist employing a tactic to attempt to make her a less formidable target.
"I suppose," she began primly, tucking her bag back onto her arm, assuming the dirt and grime which had so displeased her to begin with had removed itself as she swatted her assailant with it, "that I could be persuaded against pressing charges."
His face brightened, and Adian’s gaze poked up from glum dejection. She could be
persuaded against pressing charges? Why, if that wasn’t that the greatest semi-vague statement he had heard all day. Immediately, he stuck his palms out for her.
“No red hands here,” Adian swore, something of a nervous smile appearing on his face as he looked up at her. With each passing moment, he returned to a customary manner of sitting. When it was unclear to him whether she had appreciated his little quip or not, he immediately stood up. She needed a bit more persuading? His addled mind bobbled to think of what else he could say to assure her that he was, in fact, not a crook or a thief, but just incredibly animated. And kind of weirdly drawn to her?
“You’re really pretty,” Adian blabbed, his eyes going wide at his own words. He took a step closer to her. “And around pretty witches I get this energy that just---” he whistled, and his gaze would have shot to the ceiling if his eyes had not been locked with hers “--- to unreal heights. You’d be surprised how frequently I am involved in tiny mishaps that turn into big misunderstandings.” Entirely focused on Winnie, he took another step closer. “Or maybe not, since you are currently witnessing this. It really was, you have to believe me… I didn’t mean to… become a...” Trailing off, Adian realized a different feeling was filling the air, one he was not so entirely sure about…
Seized suddenly, the six most important thoughts of the past hour took over his mind as the encroaching stare between them quieted his ramblings. One, how had she done that,
two, how did her lips manage to attract all his attention, three, when had the gap between them become so small, four, was she currently experiencing the jolting pulse he was currently experiencing, five, how long had this pregnant silence been going for, and six---
“Have you snogged in a dressing room before?”
Winnie did not remember coming this close to him. Nor did she recall this wizard coming closer to her.
So she was quite at a loss to explain how they crept so near to one another that she could see his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"That is an insulting thing to ask," Winnie breathed, her gaze travelling from his chest to his mouth. Was he not caught in the act of assaulting her person? Or at least, her personal belongings, which was essentially the same thing. Had she not been threatening him moments ago, before he attempted to charm her with his "how hopeless am I with beautiful witches" scheme? "I am a lady."
He had a mouth she was wholly unable to look away from. "Ladies do not kiss people in dressing rooms."
Her hands grasped the front of his robes.
His brow furrowed, and casually Adian felt his head begin to nod up and down in agreement. Yes, of course. Winnie Llewellyn getting caught snogging some bloke behind a curtain door? That hardly fell in line with what reputation he deduced she upheld.
Yet if that were such case, and he knew it wholeheartedly, then how had his hands already crept to grip the sides of her face? When had that happened? And when had he laced the ends of her hair between his fingers?
Her weight on him was making his skin shiver.
Hair up the back of his neck on end, and head still nodding slightly, Adian cocked his face down to hover it before hers. They were so close now, he could feel her light breath on his lips. Watching her intently, almost as if in a daze, he stopped nodding and spoke in a husky tone. “Even if no one will know?” Adian whispered, feeling as if as soon as the words left his mouth they floated up toward the ceiling. He leaned in even further.
"Mmhmm," Winnie murmured as her hands fisted and pulled, feeling the sudden closeness of his chest against hers and relishing it.
His words sped up the steady beating of her heart. "Particularly not then."
The ends of his lips curled into a grin. That, he could accept as permission and definitely
not another potential misunderstanding. And despite thinking this, he couldn’t help but still establish it aloud.
“I’m going to kiss you now,” Adian murmured, eyes roving across her face one last time before, when she did not vehemently protest, he kissed her gently, tentatively. Feeling entirely overcome and a bit more greedy than he would have thought, Adian quickly crushed much more force against her lips and relished the familiar feeling of her.
Her arms slid away from his front and wound themselves around his neck, pulling him as close to her as was possible, kissing him with all her feverish might. The pair swayed on their feet, paying little mind to their balance as they wrapped themselves up in one another, failing to hear the shuffling footsteps of the nervously pacing shop assistant beyond the velvet curtain.
"Tilly, did you see Miss Llewellyn run in here?" the manager asked, poking his head in the back. The assistant straightened, trying to look as if she was supervise the sweeping broom in front of her and not slowly edging out of the dressing area. "Someone said they heard a young lady shouting… about a thief? She disappeared somewhere here."
"Oh, er, no sir," she lied, knowing full well if he knew what was happening in the third cubicle, he would make her go in there and break it up.
"I could have sworn—" the manager mumbled to himself, turning away from the room. The assistant breathed a sigh of relief before resuming her creeping away, looking at the rustling curtain with trepidation.
They were going to have to burn it.
