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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The house lay in darkness, the kind of absolute darkness that always caught the world right before dawn when the sun hadn't made its grand entrance from the horizon yet. The storm had stopped sometime during the night, leaving the streets wet and mirror-like as the group had made their way back to Castelldefels in Avalon's blue Drummer.
They'd spent the majority of the night preparing for what was to come, no time for resting – Avalon's embarrassing state of unconsciousness notwithstanding. Time was of the essence, after all. Who knew how long Nina would stay locked up? Who knew how long Neymar's family would be safe from her not being able to do magic within the confines of the magical barrier? She wasn't a normal witch that this barrier was originally was constructed for, so who knew what sort of tricks she had up her sleeves.
And Zelo, the only other magical being inside that house who could've helped the humans – even if it were with advice only – was he even alive still? Or had Nina gotten rid of him already?
The thought didn't sit well with Avalon. At all.
Her stomach churned, and she grimaced. I really shouldn't have downed that coffee in one go, she thought, eyeing the now empty takeaway cup that Lars had shoved into their hands earlier, claiming it to be the best-kept secret coffee gem of the city. How'd he managed to get that anyway, at five something in the morning? It had been tasty, sure, much better than the concoction that had gotten her magical juice running again. Whoever the hell 'Marina' was (the name stood prominently on the takeaway cups, like a logo with a bit of decoration around, and the letters quite artfully written too, Avalon noted), she sure knew how to make a good cup of Joe. Good thing that shop was in Barcelona and not in Castelldefels though, otherwise Fidelia's coffee house would've had some serious competition.
But good coffee didn't cover up the fact that neither of them had gotten anything healthy to eat or drink in the last couple of hours. Not that they'd had the time for it either. Or the mind, really.
Priorities and such.
"Sooo," Gil said, grinning smugly in the light of the street lamp despite the tension as he looked from Avalon to Neymar and back again.
The group had gathered in front of the gate, huddled behind Avalon's car, looking at the house. Apart from the street lights, the houses lay in darkness in the neighbourhood. No surprise there – it was around four thirty in the morning. Their drive, Avalon's blue Renault Clio, was parked a few metres down the road, behind the only other car on the dead-end street – which was perfect because the two cars provided a wider front for the three of them to observe the house from.
Too bad it was so fucking cold. Avalon shivered. She glared at Gil, begging him to stop his interrogation. But that tactic hadn't helped during their drive here, and it wasn't helping now as the Brazilian went on.
"Are you together now?" Gil wanted to know. "Or do we have to lock you up in a room with a pentagram so you can spell and talk it out for a bit longer? You're spell-free now, right, Ney? Heart's free again? Or is it?" He nudged his friend in the side for good measure and thinking himself oh so funny.
