Charming the heart of a man is a lot more difficult than it sounds. Especially when it's already bewitched by somebody else - literally!
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All that former witch-in-training Avalon wanted was a simple job to get her life back on track and forget abo...
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"It's been a long time, Avalon."
Avalon closed her eyes, sighing heavily. Her heart beat frantically. Without turning toward the door she said curtly, "Hi."
A moment of silence followed, and Neymar was wise enough to not break it – the rising tension was palpable, after all. Instead, his eyes switched from Avalon to the newcomer – her father! – and back again. What was he doing here?
"I was on a business trip here in Barcelona," the older man answered her silent question when she refused to acknowledge his presence in any other way than that rather short greeting. Footsteps echoed as the tall silhouette of the man who'd raised her stepped into the room, made his way to the bench that Avalon had lied on only moments before. "Imagine my surprise when, after so many years, I suddenly feel the presence of my daughter again. So, naturally, I had to come and investigate. I hope you'll forgive my expedition." The wood moaned when he sat down. "Am I allowed to ask why?"
Avalon twirled the last piece of the fruit gum queues in her fingers, eyes following the movement. At his enquiry, she frowned and caught herself in time before she could turn to look at him.
After such a long time... she had pictured the moment when she would see her father again. In none of those scenarios she'd been able to look him in the eye. Not after what had happened. Still, he was here. That... had to count for something, right?
"Uh..." Neymar finally said, making her realise she'd taken a longer time than she'd thought to ponder her father's presence here. The Brazilian was shuffling to his feet, nervously rubbing his palms on the fabric of his pants. "I guess I will leave you two al–"
"Oh, I'm terribly sorry," her father interrupted him. From the corner of her eye, she could see him get up and extend a hand toward the football player. There was warmth in his voice, right along with honest remorse for the social mishap. Right, normally he'd never forego introductions like this. Odd. Was he as thrown by seeing her as she was by seeing him? "I didn't introduce myself. My name is Marcel. I'm Avalon's father. And judging by what the Viking man managing this establishment told me about the situation here, it's safe to say that I'm also her coven leader without sounding ridiculous. Please, you don't have to leave on my account. Since I'm here it's my honour and my duty to help free your heart. In any way I can be of aid to my daughter."
Free your heart. Avalon winced. Like it was some noble cause, not a life-or-death situation. But that was her father. Always seeing the noble cause. Even in her most dire failing in the past.
Neymar blinked owlishly, his mouth hanging open, clearly lost for words. He was overwhelmed, and Avalon rolled her eyes; her father tended to do that to people. Overwhelm them with his presence. He looked at her for help of what to do, and – not really knowing herself – she nodded softly. Her father had just offered his help. Not what she'd expected in a hundred years! But Neymar needed – deserved – to know anything and everything that would lead to his and his heart's freedom. So, bracing herself for the coming conversation, she took a deep breath, at last turning around to face her father.
