𝐑𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐘 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓

fourteen

➶︎ PARIS; THE CITY OF LOVE ?

    THE SUNLIGHT STREAMED IN the manor, declaring another day passing by and the obligation to wake up barring in two lovers' faces. Today, Apollo's chariots bless the young individuals intertwined, as if woven with a rotting golden string under the soft covers of silk sheets. The first to wake was the boy, with tussled dark brown hair and even darker lashes to complement it, the youth opened his eyes to the harsh light glaring at his face. He blinked to adjust his sight, realizing then after that there was warmth in his arms, and that the birds chirping weren't the only sound emitted in his range.

    He focused his eyes on her, and Rowena does he feel blessed. Her hair was messy, and her grip on his shirt was tight, but the peace in her face and the calm in her expression made it all worth the pains he endured to be here. He took a moment to appreciate her features; count how many freckles she has, smile at the slight puff in her lips.

    Taking a loose strand of hair from her face, he put it behind her ear.

    Huh, Theodore frowned. There was texture behind her ear, and to his distraught that same texture went three centimeters down from the starting point. A scar. Where'd that come from?

    And then he remembers how Evangeline used to scratch herself when her manic episodes started, and thought to himself that those episodes must have caused this.

    His frown deepens so early in the morning, but he can't help it, can he? Not when he's told her multiple of times to lay off her mother's weird magic. Isn't it already good that she can do some wandless and non-verbal magic with that magic? Isn't it enough to lay off the rest of the unpredictable magic that's so clearly already hurting her despite still being unable to access it?

    No, he can hear the words as if Evangeline spoke it herself. He knows that's the only answer he'll ever get, even if that magic lands her an early funeral.

    Evangeline is the embodiment of Slytherin that way; ambitious, cunning, and resourceful. Emphasize on that ambition.

The said heiress stirs, her face scrunching up in the awareness of the sunlight. Theodore brings his eyes back onto her face, giving her a light kiss on her forehead.

"Finally awake, princess?" he asks quietly.

Evie stirs awake even more, finally opening her eyes with slight difficulty.

"What time is it?" she asks.

"9. do you want me to ask the house elves for breakfast?"

"No," she replies, sitting up, "let's go somewhere this holiday."

"Huh, all of a sudden?" Theodore asks, confusedly sitting up also.

"Pack your things for a 5 day trip max, we're going to France," she says resolutely.

"What? I haven't even asked my father or anything and it's too sudden! We're not going to France."

THEY WERE IN FRANCE. Situated in the heart of Paris, in some extremely Fancy hotel with a room far too small for its price was Theodore and Evangeline. Nott Sr. made no complaints with the impromptu trip, signing his son off with a luggage and a goodbye that seemed far too cheerful to be genuine.

( it lowkey creeped Theodore out a lot )

Currently, they were having an extremely late dinner of steak and frites, ducked out in all-black outfits consisting trench coats and all black turtlenecks and pants, aside from the rare sight of color brought by Evangeline's Slytherin-green purse. As their second serving of fries came, the boy finally brought up the question reigning in his thoughts.

"Why are we here, Evie?"

"Sightseeing," she replied, eating the crisp fry with her fork.

Theodore gave her a dead look, "The real reason, beloved."

Evie gave a roll of her eyes, before responding, "We're seeing my second cousin next thing in the morning, and then we ask to see their extensive library to see if I can find my answers because none of the books in my library has information on ancient magic."

Theodore can only sigh, realizing that despite all their disagreements about this topic she'd never let it go until her answers are told. In truth, he sort of expected it already, but man does it sting a bit when he speculation turns into fact.

"Right," he pushes out a response, but its tone turned to be more aggressive than he intended.

For a bit, he swore a flicker of apprehensiveness appeared in the usually-stoic face of his fiancée, like she didn't know how to respond.

"Are you mad?" she asked, her voice low.

"No, just—" Nott started, but then with much thought, decided otherwise, "never mind. Just be careful."

    Evangeline pursed her lips; she had a lot to say. No, correction, a lot she wanted to say. Then again, you're talking to a Black and a Nott. Like usual, an imaginary silk ties itself on their mouths, bringing them to a silence. The fire withers, the dance extinguishes. The ambition for knowing more draws a stopping line when feelings come into the mix.

    Pureblood parents teach you many things. Power, money, pain. Feelings, however, was treated like it was poison; as if it did much more damage than torture. Maybe it does, but they wouldn't know, would they?

    "Okay," says the heiress, ending their conversation.

    Like usual, the bridge collapses before it even starts to build itself.

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try not to write an angst chapter
after every fluff chp challenge: failed!

Also wow 2 chapters a week ? Who is this.

LOL currently writing this on a 17
hour flight to the UK. So excited
to visit the country!

Also question of the day;
What's one thing that's always
in your bag other than your phone,
wallet, or earphones?

Mine's my lipgloss 😎