𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒 ; regulus black

07 ; supermarché

❝ dreams - fleetwood mac ❞

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

the relative peace that had lingered in the air the night prior all seemed to vanish the next day; which was as expected, but ophelia had really hoped that it would last.

it didn't.

the day started out relatively tolerable; she'd woken up, had a cold shower, and shoveled down a portion of blueberry pancakes that euphemia had whipped up to prepare them for an adventure-filled day of bonding, cheer, and unifying experiences. she loved her mum, but that was bullshit.

she'd then tugged on a random sundress, white with red roses embroidered over the lightweight fabric, and waited half an hour for the lads to wake up and get out onto the porch. the weather thus far had been sunny and mellow, but today a pale cloud-cover seemed to hang over the city, replacing the clear blue skies with god rays and a distinct air of melancholy. this was about as good as the weather would have gotten in london this time of year.

"--you took ages." ophelia noted, as sirius, the straggler, finally emerged from the double doors that guarded the villa. he merely shrugged, shooting her a grin. "i could have taken longer. let's go."

they didn't have an agenda for the trip to the bustling center of toulouse, other than a hastily scribbled grocery list that euphemia had handed to james, and a vague warning from fleamont to not, by any means, use magic; apparently the french muggle-wizard relations office was much stricter when it came to the matter, especially when it came to foreigners.

"there's at least five different cheeses on this list." james noted adjusting the glasses perched on his nose as he scrutinized the parchment. he'd had glasses since his 6th year at hogwarts, something he was still awfully bitter over; how dare his eyesight be shitty? the bell on the door of the grocer tinkled merrily as it swung open, guided by remus' palm pressed against the handle.

"well, variety is always nice." ophelia offered, grabbing a handheld basket as sirius wandered off to find alcohol, as expected. he'd had the charming idea of attempting a few rounds of drinking games that evening, which ophelia politely declined out of the desire to slumber without anticipating an excruciating headache the next morning. "five cheeses." james murmured under his breath, as if dumbfounded.

ophelia had barely made it 10 steps into the store, before she was hounded down by an employee, a muggle woman, who's curved jaw could either indicate her being in her late 30s, or early 60s. it was hard to tell. now, her conundrum was conversing in french.

being as quintessentially british as she was, she was sure she was more than capable of mangling the language beyond repair; sirius had been the resident translator thus far, and she had no idea where he'd stalked up to. perhaps losing track of her companions wasn't the most beneficial thing to the sake of efficiency.

"bonjour madame, comment puis-je vous aider aujourd'hui?" the woman asked starsley, and ophelia blinked slightly. did she really look that lost? she'd been described as looking like a deer in headlights, but this was excessive.

"uh, i am...cherche pour...le dried tomato?" the woman looked at her blankly for a moment, causing ophelia to internally wince– someone would have to remind her to never speak french again in future. "tomate séchée?"

"oui, that." she agreed, shaping a tomato with her hands for good measure, and the woman tutted, pointing down the isle. "cette île."

"merci." ophelia managed, watching the woman beeline away from her to another customer, her expression slightly bemused. she then heard a slight snicker behind her, causing her eyebrows to raise. a simple 180 would reveal the source of the sound.

"that was atrocious." regulus smirked, his neat appearance quite a contrast with the small sewing kit he held in hand, a delicate thing in the grip of his lithe fingers. her stomach did a little drop, not from admiration of his long fingers, but rather the notion that he was in the grocer. the same grocer that her companions were in. jesus christ.

she settled for not voicing the matter, or dwelling on it. "i'm aware."

he considered her for a moment; he seemed slightly more animated than he had been during their first encounter, but that was probably at the expense of her failure to verbally articulate herself in the local tongue. "for reference, potter, it's merci, not 'mercy', as you pronounced it."

"got it."

ophelia had no real desire to prolong the interaction, so be frank. the lower the chance of collusion between those she came with and the black heir, the better. regulus' eyes scrutinized her for a moment, before continuing. "are you really so bored that you've resorted to stalking me?"

oh, now she snorted. "you think too highly of yourself." she noted, before nearly flinching as she noticed remus emerging from the section dedicated to cold-cut meats, empty handed, mind. shit.

she leaned against the aisle, one shoulder propped against the wood under the pretense of looking unbothered, but more so to conceal regulus from view; a feat accomplishable by the fact she was wearing heels. an unfortunate side-effect of her motion was that she had leaned forward slightly, this distance between the two of them closed slightly in her attempt to hide him from view. the heir's eyes narrowed slightly at the sudden proximity, taking an inch of a step back. ophelia was mildly offended, but to be fair, she couldn't blame him.

"you know, i should really be on my way." she noted, her tone dryly amused as she shot him a look. "it's getting late n' all."

"it's barely noon." regulus pointed out, the disgruntled look on his face giving way to a mild humor. "you just do not want to speak to me, a concept which i welcome."

well, at least he didn't interpret her sudden suave lean as flirtation, as the old woman down the isle clearly had, from the judgemental look she was shooting ophelia. what was the lady expecting, for them to start making out in the middle of a quaint little grocer? was that really the standard that young adults had set?

she probably should not dwell on the concept of making out with regulus black, as to preserve her sanity. that was quite nauseating.

"fair enough, the feeling is mutual. i'll stay out of your hair if you stay out of mine." the brunette shrugged her shoulders as she straightened up, her grip tightening slightly on the handle of the basket, which she tossed a package of sun-dried tomatoes into. frankly, she enjoyed taking the piss out of regulus, but for the sake of the factor that they probably would not interact again, and that she was doing a measure of damage control, concessions had to be made. "i'll just–"

"what in the bloody hell?"

she nearly just ended it right then and there. sirius black had entered the isle, wine in hand, his dramatic timing flawless, as per usual.

merde.

╰┈➤ authors note ; shorter chapter because i started a new ff that i'm not sure  i'm going to post + new bot yesterday :) but anyways, if you have any questions about aimless, i like rambling about it lolol