Under Your Scars || Sebastian Sallow x MC

Flashback - Seventh Year

Winter, 1892

Sebastian POV

"Let me try again!" I begged.

I sat beside Juliette in the Beauxbatons Academy library. I had asked her to teach me some French in preparation for the Yule Ball this weekend. She was not aware of my ulterior motives in inviting her here for 'tutoring'.

"I think I got it. May core day voo say dunce?" 

My butchered pronunciation got a giggle out of Juliette, her dimples appearing for a moment. She brushed her long brown hair out of her face as she repeated the correct pronunciation. She looked positively radiant. She looked radiant every day, but something about seeing her in her element, speaking her other language, was just breathtaking. 

"It's getting better" she said with a smile "You at least need to know this one if you want to ask anyone to dance at the ball."

"Perhaps I'll just keep my mouth shut all night and let my charming smile do the talking." I winked at her.

I was getting bold with my flirting lately. I didn't know what got into me since the start of 7th year. Maybe it was Juliette returning from the summer, looking so tan and curvy and gorgeous. I was finding it harder and harder to hide my attraction to her and I hoped to Merlin that I wasn't overstepping. 

"You're insufferable," she scoffed and slapped my arm.

I love it when she slaps me. So far so good. 

"I do have one more phrase I want to learn, though. Seriously" I said, leaning forward in my chair.

"How do I say, 'Will you go to the ball with me?' " I asked, trying to appear as casual as possible. 

Her eyebrows shot up. "Sebastian Henry Sallow, are you trying to ask one of these French girls to the ball?"

"Something like that," I said with a shrug. She rolled her eyes.

"You'd say, 'Veux-tu... aller....  au bal ...avec moi...'" she said, pausing between words to ensure I heard them clearly.

"Voo-too all air, ow ball avec mwah?" I said with the sexiest French accent I could muster. 

"Um...close, you've got the right idea!" Juliette said, trying to stifle her laughter. We were still in the library, after all. 

We went back and forth a couple of more times, until it was intelligible and unoffensive to her French ears. It had to be perfect.

"Speaking of the ball... Jules," I turned my body to face hers and took a breath. I had planned to hold her hand when I asked her, but I could already feel my palms getting sweaty. "Do you have a date to the ball?"

This was all part of the plan. I knew damn well she didn't have a date. Yet. 

"Sure do." she said matter-of-factly. 

Shit. Fuck. Shit.  

"Who?!" I tried not to insult her with my surprise. She was the most desirable witch in our year, at least in my eyes, she could take any guy or girl she wanted to the ball. I swallowed, bracing myself for her date's name as my plan unraveled before my eyes.

"Garreth." 

Wait. Garreth?!

"Just as friends, obviously," she clarified. "But we're coordinating our outfits and everything, we're gonna look hot as hell." She said, tossing her hair over her shoulder and sending a wave of floral scent my direction. My breath hitched as I caught the scent of her lilac soap.