Over the years, fate played its tricks, crossing the paths of Benjamin and Demetria. Now, after what feels like forever without a word, just when Benjamin had almost forgotten the past, destiny throws them back together. Demetria, wanting one last a...
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━━━━®MARTÍNEZ, Celia. ► @diaryofaromantica
𝓣he drawback of travelling with single friends? They vanish after midnight and only reappear the following day. Whenever that may be.
Demetria and Lauren had gone out the previous night to explore Montmartre, and oddly enough, it was Lauren who encouraged Demetria to exercise restraint, stating that they needed to be well-rested for their sightseeing tour of Paris the next day – something the American wasn't exactly excited about. The thing was, after three glasses of Kir Royale, Lauren decided to explore French men too. Demetria didn't stop her; after all, she had been that person on every previous night since they arrived in France. It was only when Lauren thought it was a good idea to disappear into the night with a local Muggle that Demetria regretted letting her have so much fun.
The next morning, Demetria woke up to find Lauren missing from the bed next to hers in their hotel room. Although she wasn't the type to burst into flames out of concern, Demetria threw the covers aside, still half-asleep, and reached for her mobile phone. Upon unlocking the screen, she saw the message:
— Yeah, right — she muttered, slightly annoyed at the thought of having to share her friend with whoever was with her by now.
If Demetria had at least found a Muggle man to herself, she wouldn't have to spend the day all alone. The blonde held onto this thought as she crossed the room towards the sunny balcony, the warmth enveloping her as she stepped out of the shadow inside the room. As quickly as she considered seeking out a companion just like her friend's, she also remembered that it wasn't as if she didn't know anyone in that foreign country. Demetria did know a Frenchman, perhaps not as charming as her friend's, nor a muggle. For a few minutes, she pondered the option that soon seemed to become her only alternative. Without an owl within reach, for the first time in four days – exactly the amount of time she had been in France –, the blonde put on the first thing she found. After washing her face and brushing her teeth, she rushed to the hotel's reception.
— Could you lend me a pen? — Howard asked, flashing her teeth at the receptionist. — And a piece of parch... Paper as well, please.
Once in possession of pen and paper, Demetria settled into one of the lobby armchairs and, using a magazine as support, wrote the following words:
Whoever's alive always shows up, don't they? I came to visit your country to see if it's really all they say it is, and so far, I'm not surprised. If you'd like to change my mind, I'll be at La Tour d'Argent at one o'clock in the afternoon, sharp. Punches ('cause I'm not one for hugs), the more ̶b̶e̶a̶u̶t̶i̶f̶u̶l̶ blonde Howard. p.s.: I'm serious. My friend ditched me, and I need company. Even if it's yours...
