thrills don't come for free

[JACQUELINE AURORA TALBOTT]

I left my body down on her knees over the bedside Watching you breathe
and I saw the fire I felt the flames I heard the banshees calling your name

Leaving had been one of the hardest things she had done in her life. By the time Jacq was in her own home she had to wonder if it had all been real or not? Her skin burned with the memory of his touch - screaming out for him, she had denied herself the comfort of him and the sunrise. But she couldn't be that. Grandmother had warned her that pureblood boys were dangerous - she just never realized that this was what she had meant. She could never regret him, but she knew now he was addictive - it was easier if this happened now.

Weeks had past (nearly six, not that she knew exactly) since she decided to go out for a drink - a mistake she had not made since. Foolish stupid girl. She couldn't afford to make a mistake like him. So why couldn't she stop thinking about him, why could she swear his scent still lingered on her skin, why did she see his face behind her eyes? It wasn't as if she was mad at him, what was there to be mad about - she was the one who let him in. Truth was she was the one making sure it was a one time thing. She wouldn't go back to the village, nor any bar for that matter - in case he came looking. This was how it had to be, a Rousseau - even one such as himself - was not a person she could afford to get involved with....men like him brought nothing but bad luck and early ends for women like her.

The over-sized dark grey crewneck and black leggings seemed casual enough for a sports viewing. It wasn't as if she had watched a game of quidditch since graduating - at least not that she could recall. Quidditch players enjoyed coming to see the girls - and herself. It wasn't all that uncommon that they were given tickets as a gift. Estelle had become a favorite with one of puddlemere's chaser's Lennox - even she knew who he was, one of their louder johns. But Estelle had a soft spot for men like Lennox so when she was presented with tickets to their next game Jacq wasn't about to let her friend go alone. Since she had sworn off bars after that night it felt good to be going out - even if it was to watch Estelle's john play. Maybe it would help keep her mind from wandering into those forbidden memories.

It was clear from the start that these games were rather different from the games in school. The stands were packed for the players and everyone was sporting their teams colors. She felt bad about being clearly under dressed (and oddly with clothing on, Estelle was sure to make a joke) - feeling so bad though Jacq made sure to pick up a Puddlemere flag, that was Lennox's team after all - the idea did cross her mind to get the other team's flag instead, but he was a john not a boyfriend so she wasn't meant to scare him off unless he became a creep. She'd be rather glad later anyways, for getting Puddlemere's.

Their seats were actually really good, Jacq guessed that's what happened when you were on one of the playing teams - they gave you good seats when you wanted them. Or Lennox was a complete idiot who was blowing all his money on a women who literally was only with him for him money. Jacq had to smirk and snicker to herself at the thought - well she had seen it happen to many a man before so why would Lennox be any wiser?

The wait for the game was somewhat unbearable for Jacq, this Puddlemere spring weather was not helping the curl situation of her hair, she felt like it was making her stick out - not that she didn't tend to stick out anyways. Regardless, today she really wasn't trying to draw attention to herself - not that he would be there to see her, but she didn't need anyone else's attention either.

After what seemed like hours of waiting the game was starting the team's flying in with their own style and flare. But Jacq quickly was focused on just one player. Her hand was quick to grab her friend's as she inhaled sharply - she knew him right away and her heart flooded. "Aurora I'm excited too but do you have to grab me so tight!"

Jacq barely heard her friend's plea as she watched him fly around the field. This couldn't be real, he couldn't be real. A part of her wanted to turn and flee, leave before he got the chance to see her - if he even could. Would he spot her in this crowd? She could feel the pounding in her chest - no, she couldn't want that no matter how her mind wondered if his heart was beating as fast because it could feel her there. Those were dreams and wishes of someone who believes in love - not someone like her.

Leo Sergei - she should have realized that night. It wasn't as if she didn't read a paper, she'd remarked he'd had a nice face but she had never read what he was in the papers for. She would have known his name, she just would have know...maybe they wouldn't - no, it happened, she'd wanted it too and it was - well it didn't matter what it was because it couldn't happen again. She eased up on her friend's hand and offered up a shy apology, she couldn't explain why she really reacted the way she did.

Regardless a smile was held on her face as she watched him, its possibly the first time she has actually given a quidditch game any care. She'd never realized someone could look so beautiful when they flew. He is no doubly her Bragi. It makes sense now, the hint of broom polish in his scent - she can recall it as it comes to mind and it makes her want to flee again. She stays though, cheering on as she watched doing her best not to wonder the whole time if he knew she was there, watching, cheering.

It wasn't good really - no matter how amazing it had been to watch as the day carried on and the teams competed fiercely - she still ought not to have been there. Jacq found it impossible to pull herself away from the game and watched till the end. Estelle would be on her own with meeting Lennox - Jacq needed to leave before this situation got out of control. Leo was recklessness that she was all to willing to dive into. She offered little explanation to her friend as she did her best to leave.

The sea of people was a struggle to get through, should she be thankful that there were this many people so it was likely if he had seen her he couldn't find her now? Or should she be cursing them because they were making it impossible to leave which only increased the chances that he would find her, or see her, or something - and than she couldn't leave....could she?

Of course it wasn't like she wanted to flee like someone who was terrified - but she was. He terrified her in so many ways - like how she couldn't get him off her mind our out of her skin. Oh why wasn't the crowd moving? She needed to leave. As her heart started to race she found herself looking around, was it nerves or was he near?

TAG: LEONID SERGEI ROUSSEAU
NOTES: omg okay first I'M SORRY - i know we need to thread leo and nox first so I promise you don't have to reply to this till we do that I just had the muse and you put the idea in my head and I couldn't help my self >.> I'm just here for the zombon feels okay <.< also I felt like sixish weeks was long enough for the maybe she isn't real theory to feel real I can change this if you want anything changed!

[LEONID SERGEI ROUSSEAU]

THESE BATTLE SCARs

Leo squinted a little, putting up a hand to shield his eyes from the blinding lights of the stadium as he stepped out onto the mown grass. But then the white light found its way to land on his face anyway, through the spaces between his fingers. He could not help staring at them – the spaces. They had never seemed to have any purpose, or to represent anything other than separation, until that fateful night of over a month before, with her small hand in his and their fingers linked together perfectly. As if they had been each other’s missing piece, come to fill the emptiness in each other’s life.

He never found out when she had left, or if she had even been to his place, or if everything had been but a dream. But his memories of her were too vivid for dreams. Even in the lowlights of his bedroom, her beauty shone, her delicate curves mesmerized. He could still feel the warmth of her skin at the tip of his fingers. Her silvery voice called his name in a way it almost felt sinful. Her quickened breath. Her luscious dark curls brushed against his face, drawing him in with their heavenly scent when he buried his face in the crook of her neck or kissed her forehead as she was falling asleep in his arms. Her quickened breath. The sound of her heart beating against his chest.

And the softness of her lips he had just not gotten enough of.

His hands curled into fists at his sides, his nails pressing against his own flesh so hard it hurt. It was a small punishment he put upon himself to control his desires to dive into her again. She was irresistible, even when all he had left of her were just memories, cold sheets with her lingering scent, his own hollowed heart and a name he had not been able to say aloud after that night.

It was so frustrating to remember her but to not know her. He knew her name but not who she was, her existence but her whereabouts, her intention of coming but not her reason to leave. He had got mad, too, a few times. Not at her but at himself. He was the one who had made the offer. Perhaps he should not have been so obnoxious thinking he had got everything under control – his own feelings, the impulsive decisions and her reactions. But other times, he felt almost grateful that he had found her, like she had been the sole reason for his twenty years of existence. Not that he loved her – one night was too short to call it love; but his life felt complete in the most mysterious way, because of her. And most of the times, he could not regret it, even when his reason wanted to.

He had tried to look for her. He had gone back to the Three Broomsticks and even deliberately taking a few turns around the parks of London. Maybe he should have gone to Paris, too. After all, she was his la Parisienne. But as days went by, he stopped and began to wonder if it had been but a wild dream. Recently he had come to term with the fact that his chance of seeing her again was almost a big black zero on white paper. It was plain as day.

This night, he would have nothing but the game on his mind, he promised himself and Lennox who was uncannily more eager than usual to go out and impress the audience.

Up in the air, with all the white lights focusing on him and the rest of the team, everything seemed blurry. Someone called his name. No, many people called his name. Loudly and clearly. The whole crowd was cheering. Right there, at that very moment, he was a star. “I’s be happy with having one star fall just for me.” Among the white noises, her voice replayed in his head like a broken tape. It sounded so hazy and haunting in the most graceful way that sent shivers down his spine. He tried to tear his consciousness from the obscure memories by focusing his attention on the spectators and flashing smiles at every person in his sight.

Leo immediately realized that he should have kept allowing the memories of her to overwhelm him and take his mind off reality. At least he knew they were not real. His eyelids fluttered shut for a minute, praying to God that those dark curls would miraculously disappear once he opened his eyes. Then again, better than anyone, he knew miracles were not real. His heart cheered along with the crowd while his mind fell into grief. But even the bright white lights could not outshine her. He cursed under his breath as his grip around the polished broom tightened, as if he was afraid he would fall.

She was there. Radiant. Beautiful. And real. He had never lost his mind.

A strange feeling rose in his chest – a mixture of relief and frustration. She must have had her own reason for leaving without saying a word. But she was there, amongst the crowd, holding a Puddlemere United flag, cheering for his team. For him. Maybe she had come for him, he liked to think so. But it did not matter, so long as she was there. And he smiled at her, even when she was perhaps not looking.

When the game ended, their coach absentmindedly commented he had never seen Leo play like that – with such determination and enthusiasm – and he had to keep it up. He might have said some other things but Leo did not hear a thing as his sore bloodshot eyes – a result of sweat getting them – stayed fixed on the spectating crowd who were making their way out. The players were heading for a shower and change of clothes before going for a small celebration, no one noticed their team captain had vanished, leaving the broom he loved so much lying on the floor.

He dared not to blink lest she would disappear again as he squeezed himself through the crowd. His distracted mind registered a few voices calling his name and himself smiling absentmindedly at their owners along the way. But she did not seem like she had a reason to stay. It was as though she was trying to ditch the scene as fast as she could. Leo shook his head lightly, telling himself not to be so sensitive or overthinking anything. She came specifically to his team’s game. His game. She must have come to for him.

Please.

“Jacqueline.” The name he had not been able to say aloud escaped his lips with ease, like it had always been there, awaiting, ready. He reached out for her hand and held it once he could. His palm was cold against her warm skin, it made him shiver a little. She felt so real he could not believe it. He had got so close to giving up “You’re here.” He could not help smile. He said it more to himself than to her, like he was trying to confirm her existence for himself.

But the joy did not last long before he felt his hollowed heart aching at a question he had dwell on for all this time: why had she left without saying a word to him? Ignoring all the curious eyes on them, he pulled her into an embrace, holding her so close he lifted her small figure off the ground for a moment, forgetting that the press was there ready to capture any scandalous moments anytime, that he was covered in sweat and that it might not be the greeting she had expected.

tag: JACQUELINE AURORA TALBOTT
notes: oops. i couldn't help it either hehe. don't be sorry, i was so happy that you started this thread. it's very lovely.

TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ Delusional & SP

[JACQUELINE AURORA TALBOTT]

I left my body down on her knees over the bedside Watching you breathe
and I saw the fire I felt the flames I heard the banshees calling your name

'Jacqueline'

She knew the moment his voice reach her ears it was hopeless, his cold hand capturing her hand easily - it wasn't as if she resisted him. Not when she couldn't avoid him. It felt heard to breath as his words came out, it felt heavy - she hadn't meant for this to happen. Still though he smiled at her, he was happy she was here? It was hard not to smile back. She was at a loss for words as she looked at him, what did you say to someone whom you had been avoiding - what did you say to someone who made your heart race like no one else? Jacq found it hard to think of what to say back to him.

The moment was cut short though as he pulled her into himself, saving her for a moment from trying to explain - or speak. She couldn't even explain why she so easily gave in and embraced him back. The intensity of his game lingered in his robes but the underlying scent she remember of him was still there. So easily she gave into wrapping her around around him tightly, she could only deny her body's craving for him in so many ways. Though as she felt her feet lift off the ground she felt a panic come over her as she heard clicks and swore she caught some flashes.

This wasn't good, she needed to remember that. It should have been, could have been, but she wasn't meant for this sort of life that was obvious. What would he do when someone came forward and reveled the woman he was holding this game was nothing more than a stripper? So why was it that she couldn't bring herself to leave? It wasn't just about her, there could be damage to him as well - and than what would he blame her, hate her? She couldn't have it.

"Leonid...." Her voice was soft as if she was trying to speak only for him, only this setting didn't allow for the intimacy of words. She knew she ought to escape his embrace - the longer it went on the more opportunity there was for everything to unravel completely. She closed her eyes as she pressed her face into his chest almost praying that they would vanish - no that she could vanish. "You were marvelous."

Some how her words felt lame as they fell from her lips, he was more than marvelous and he hardly needed to hear it from her. Her words likely meant little to him, especially after she left him without a goodbye. It wasn't as if you were allowed to act like this - like you were comfortable and fitted for one another - not when you had ignored someone for well over a month. Even if it was for everyone's own good. She shouldn't have allowed herself to fall into him with comfort.

It was painful but she broke away from him. She couldn't bring herself to look as she pulled away her hands slipping into themselves, it made her chest feel tight as she drew into herself. Suddenly she felt so small in the crowd, felt so small in front of him. "I...." Jacq sought words but they feel short and instead she was left chewing at her lip.

Had the damage been done? Was there any point in trying to leave, or was there less point in trying to stay. His reaction had been all to warm to help her carry one with her escape. He'd seen her, he had found her, and now...now she was going to have to face her actions. "I thought, you would be celebrating..." She couldn't help the way she kept looking at everyone besides him - once again she found herself feeling conflicted about wanting eyes upon her.

What did she do? There were ears and eyes everywhere but could she trust to be alone with him? What if he was mad, or worse - what if he wasn't. They were not a mistake that could afford to be repeated - it hurt enough, could she take anymore? Why did he have to tempt fates and dive into this again? No one had ever made her feel this nervous, but in some whats she was become less shocked that Leonid was quickly proving to be different than anyone she had become involved with.

Carefully she looked up at him, finally bring herself to meet his gaze - it almost made her eyes burn to look into his own once again. How was it that there was even still a faint look of that night in his gaze? Wouldn't anyone else have just carried on, forgetting about her entirely? Yet here he was, and she was everything but forgotten. It was hard to deny that there was guilt, remorse even. Did he know how hard it was to pull herself from his bed? Did he not understand how it could only hurt more the longer it went on? No, if he did he would have let her leave. Instead they where here and she was quickly forgetting how to walk away.

"...Can we...do this, elsewhere?" She picked her words slowly, trying her best not to sound serious, or intense - no one had to assume this was a meeting of importance, even if some how she knew it was likely to be. He would have questions no doubt, questions she didn't want to dive into. Full disclosure was not something she was skilled at, but if she was going to do any disclosing it couldn't be here under the eyes and cameras. Truth be told she didn't want to disclose at all but she felt as if she wasn't going to be left with a choice. Well that wasn't entirely true, she had been making her choices and this was the result of them. Now she would have to take it for what it was, her actions made into consequence.

TAG: LEONID SERGEI ROUSSEAU
NOTES:

[LEONID SERGEI ROUSSEAU]

THESE BATTLE SCARs

He did not know what he was thinking. Reached out for her hand. Held her close. As if there had not been any crowd staring at them oddly, or any media ready to capture such rare spontaneousness. For days, he had thought that he was losing his mind in hallucinations about a woman that he barely knew, and she was anything but real.

At times, for no reasons at all, it had pained him a little thinking that their paths would never cross again. It had angered him a little knowing that all that it had taken her was one night to make him airheaded, and a mess. Yet the feeling of her soft skin had lingered on his fingertips, her taste of her cherry lips haunting his dreams.

Then again, there had been other times when he called himself a fool. They were no longer school kids with unrealistic dreams about commitments and relationships. They were too old for those sorts of expectations and fairy tales. And feelings were a luxury not everyone could afford to have. He had thought that if the universe ever allowed their reunion, he would walk away and pretend he never saw her there, amongst the crowd, cheering for him, her cheeks flushed, her chest rose and fell with every breath she took, her joyful expressions, her luscious dark curls touched by the wind and once by him.

But there he was, burying his face in her hair, taking in her unique pleasing scent, craving her warmth, dying to feel her electrifying touch like the first time they had met. Maybe he would detest himself later. Later.

She called his name. His heart jumped. He wondered if she could hear it now that her face was pressed against his chest. He had forgotten how small she was. He pressed his lips together on hearing the word “marvellous”. He laughed a little, the laughter sent a slight vibration down his chest. Of course, he knew she was talking about the Quidditch game, but other thoughts amused him simultaneously. ”Thank you.” He muttered quietly, there was no hiding he felt flattered. Maybe she was just as glad to see him again. Maybe she had not been avoiding him, trying to escape from his world, running away from him like he had thought. The idea lifted his spirit, and he could not help smiling, for her or for the cameras that were pointing their directions.

His heart sank a little when she broke away. He was almost ready to watch her disappear. But she stood there, looking more guarded than ever. What he believed to be the joy of reunion faltered into something forced and awkward. After a quick moment of confusion, he was quickly reminded of their situations. Or more precisely, his situations. His brash, impulsive actions and eagerness were perhaps repelling to someone who did not want to see him again. Like her. Even when his gaze was locked on her, she did not look at him – she was looking at everyone surrounding them, but him. He gulped, almost embarrassed. His hands fell to his sides, cold and numb. What had he done? ”I…” He found himself at a loss for words, even when the question was so simple.

He had acted as if they were more than… friends? No, they were not even friends. Neither were they strangers.

Not friends. Not strangers. Not lovers. What were they? What was he doing? He had no right to be happy to see her again. She was supposed to be a vague name in his past. Their paths were not supposed to cross. He had crossed all the lines. He was making a desperate fool of himself. What a funny story she would have to tell her friends later. Of a love-struck, naïve man who did not realise he was too old for fairy tales, miracles and happy endings.

It was his turn to look away when her eyes met his. He looked at her lips instead. Those rosy lips he had tasted. The way they mesmerized him. And all her smiles. Heat rushed all over his body. His breaths became heavy, strained and suppressed by something of a combination of embarrassment and frustration.

He perked up at her when she suggested going to another place. His expressions were stern, though his lips still curved into a smile. Without saying a word, he took her hand and made his way through the crowd. The noises were mixed and complicated, full of squeaking, giggling and clicking of cameras. He thought he saw some flashes of lights behind them. Leonid loved the spotlights – the one affirmation of his talents that he enjoyed so much. But now all he wanted was to escape from them.

He took her to behind the stadium, where the locker rooms and showers were. The mob had been held behind by the security guards at the entrance to the players’ facilities. He kicked the door to an empty locker room open and pull both himself and her in before closing the door behind him. The contrasting silence inside the building, compared to the deafening noise outside which they had just escaped from, was intimidating.

“I’m sorry.” He said hurriedly, realising that he had held it too tightly. “Did I hurt you?” His voice was soft and genuinely concerned. His thumb brushed gently against the soft skin of her hand, trying to soothe any pain that he might have accidentally inflicted on her.

“I’m so sorry.” His voice trembled a little as he brought her hand to his lips, slowly planting fleeting kisses on the red marks. “I did not mean to hurt you, or put you in the chaos you did not want.”

He reluctantly let go of her hand, putting his own hands into his pockets, taking a step back. Ironically, when there were no eyes watching, he began keeping his distance.

“It would be scandalous for a while, but people will forget about it very quickly.” Because it was what people did. Forgetting things. Even when the feelings were so real, so vivid that it hurt.


tag: JACQUELINE AURORA TALBOTT
notes: sorry for the late reply!

TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ Delusional & SP

[JACQUELINE AURORA TALBOTT]

I left my body down on her knees over the bedside Watching you breathe
and I saw the fire I felt the flames I heard the banshees calling your name

In so many ways Jacq wished she could have savored their embrace longer. There was a comfort she had felt in the way his laughter resonated in his chest, his arms had felt safe even though they couldn't hide her from the lingering eyes. Those eyes...no matter how she hid herself in him she was far from hidden - if anything she had exposed herself in a way she was not accustom, never hard she worn her feelings on her sleeve. Not that she had feelings - like, actual feelings...after all it was just one night. Yet Leonid made her heart and mind race like no one else, something that almost terrified her.

It was good she wasn't looking at him to see the look on his face. She couldn't afford to give into her weakness of him in front of the cameras again. Her mind was already racing at the thought of the truth coming out to him. She couldn't lose it here though. When his eyes looked away she could feel the color blossoming in her cheeks as his eyes glanced to her lips. The memory of him had haunted her for over a month but those memories felt all the more vivid in that moment. She dare not even contemplate what thoughts crossed his mind as his gaze lingered nor dare she think about the temptation his gaze brought.

That night they had been swept up in a feeling, carried away like fools. Yet everything that night had felt right - even when she knew it was wrong - they had been as one. It was difficult to understand why today felt so different. Everything had been so easy that first night where as today it felt delicate, as if at anymore the world could shatter and everything would fall apart. Thankfully though he agreed that they should get out of the crowd. She didn't fight him and did her best to keep up as he lead her along and away into the locker room.

Stillness. It was a shock similar to jumping into cold water. Suddenly her thoughts were almost deafening where as she couldn't seem to gather a single one when they had been surrounded. She had little time to wonder how he dealt with that so often - people like fans were why she had Diablo. But her thoughts stopped when his words reached her. Hurt her? What?

Almost instantly she was about to protest but as her eyes glanced down to their hands she could see the mark of his grasp. Still he handled her so delicately trying to ease the sore. She couldn't help the way her lips turn up into a soft smile at fleeting kisses he pressed into her skin. Did she deserve such tender affections from him? It felt like a sin to even crave it, especially after leaving things as she had. A mess, even if it was slightly unintentional.

There was an ache she felt, the urge to caress his cheek and reassure him that he hadn't hurt her - at least not in a way she cared. But instead she only managed to offer up words as before she knew it he had pulled away from her. "You've nothing to apologize for, Leonid, you didn't hurt me - you got us out of there, just like I asked - you have nothing to be sorry about." She had tried to hold his hand back, but she'd was too distracted and his fingers had slipped away from her into his own pockets. The air almost seemed cold now that he had stepped back, she couldn't help the half step forward she took almost silently pleading for him to come back to her.

Foolish girl. Stupid foolish girl. Was he her hero now saving her from distress? Didn't she understand there was no happy ending for her, hadn't she always understood that? How was it that she could start to feel so alone when he was right there? Why did their beautiful memories have to be on the verge of tarnishing....why couldn't she have just been his beautiful memory?

"You didn't, Leonid - you've done nothing wrong - you're not the bloke that thinks selling someone's personal life is a way to make a living..." As if she was one to talk about making a living, "You -....I'm just....happy I got to see you play - I didn't think you had saw me..." Her emotions were already starting to slip, maybe she was trying to ignore what had just happened but she had seen the flashes heard the clicks, even words spoken among the crowd. Her words fell short, what more could she say?

As he spoke of the scandal her stopped. In his head this was simple, she was the pretty one night stand that would get fifteen minutes of fame in the press and that would be it. But was Jacqueline Talbott the beautiful former slytherin - or was she Aurora, one of Belveder's prize exotic dancers that was occupying Puddlemere Untied's naive young star player's time. Hundred's of titles ran through her mind. And he - a Rousseau - a prince among the filth...what would his family think when they saw who he stupidly took home.

Of course she had to wonder what if someone exposed her - entirely? What if suddenly her clients would now know her real full name, what if they could find her? It was only a faint thought but a valid one she would have to face regardless of how he reacted once he knew who and what she was.

Why any part of her would hope that somehow her occupation would be something he could overlook she didn't know. It was childish to think he might still look at her the same after he learned the truth. It was childish to think many of the things she did about him.

She wasn't sure what to say at first. So it was what he wanted, right? Yet, he had sought her ought. His actions and words were so far from one another - yet the truth was obvious, was she willing to accept it though? This was exactly what you didn't do, what she wasn't meant to do. None of this was going to matter once he knew the truth. He wasn't going to want her once he knew.

Within that moment she knew her heart was no longer ice. It was dangerous to play with fire...she had tasted desire and sided with fire. The price was her's to pay. It felt impossible not to break with each beat in her chest. She looked anywhere but at him, though she could only see the world though the blur of the tears pooling dangerously in her eyes. She couldn't break down, not here - not over him, she was smarter than other girls. She didn't fall - no she was plummeting.

Jaqc did her best to hold back the choking sound in her throat. She was failing at keeping her emotions in check but the weight of reality was crashing upon her. He would be shamed for a while but he would recover.....she would lose him though - after all no one wants to love someone like her, a women of such low moral standing.

Never had she shown her colors like this - but Leonid had a way of bringing all her walls down. Would she still try to deny it after this? After she was posed here breaking down in tears? It was pathetic, showing such weakness, where was the confident women she always played herself to be? Doing her best she tried to speak but her words came out more choked and strained as she horribly failed at covering her emotions "You'll...You'll never-never want to see me after this...."

There was a difficulty that she felt in bring herself to explain what she meant. Even what she had expressed had felt impossible to say. But she couldn't let him find out after it was printed. He deserved to know...he deserved better, he'd thought her to be better. Perhaps it made him a fool, but it made her one as well.

TAG: LEONID SERGEI ROUSSEAU
NOTES: no worries at all, it was worth it!

[LEONID SERGEI ROUSSEAU]

THESE BATTLE SCARs

She told him he had nothing to apologize for. His gaze dropped to the floor, then travelled to her small feet and up her eyes again when he slipped away. He remembered those eyes had been all that he wanted to look at, to dive in just a couple of months ago; now their knowing look made him feel naked, exposed and more vulnerable than ever. Now that there were no distracting flashing cameras, no curious eyes upon them, he allowed himself to study her a little longer.

Her appearance was different from their first encounter. The casual clothing made her seem even younger, almost like a school girl, almost euphoric. Her petite figure appeared even smaller in black and grey colours. He remembered her feeling almost weightless in his arms when he swept her off her feet many nights before. Feather-light and fleeting like dreams. That night he had thought she did not belong to this mundane and tainted world, but somewhere far more pure and beautiful. Maybe the constellations and the gods. No one had ever spoken of the stars and his name the way that she had, with so much sincerity and gentleness. He had never felt so happy just watching someone smile. It had felt as if she only needed to say a word and his wounded soul would be healed, and all his sins would be forgiven.

Such comfort was hard to find, especially in a stranger. Perhaps that was why he felt so connected to her, in the strangest way, and he craved her. But now they were both sober, and the lights they talked about were not of stars, but camera flashes. Nothing was so utterly poetic about scandals.

“No, I was careless, I cannot blame them.” He shook his head, smiling with gratitude when she exclaimed again that he had done nothing wrong. “Besides, there were days I thought you would see me on one of their papers, and maybe, hopefully… remember me.” His voice trailed off as he realised how desperate his confession made him look. It was true, regardless.

He watched her stumble on her words, struggling to make them sound right. She seemed conflicted. His heart sank a little when she said she had not thought he had seen her. He wondered if it was what she had wanted – for him not to see her. “I’m happy that you came and cheer for… um… my team.” He stuttered a little, reviewing the sight of her earlier, holding Puddlemere’s flag amongst the crowd. “And I suppose you’re just too beautiful to not notice.” He grinned, out of nowhere. He was not trying to woo her, not intentionally at least. It was a simple observation. And she was truly beautiful. Of course, she probably knew that already.

Her stern expression in response to his comment about the scandal concerned him. He wondered if it was because she was not used to the whole spotlight and scandal deal. Perhaps she was not very fond of it either, given back in school he had not heard much of a girl named Jaqueline Talbott. More importantly, she was not him, who lived for the spotlight hungered for others’ acceptance and approval of his identity. She did not strike him as someone that cared too much of what the world thought. Despite not knowing her long enough, he had been so impressed with her tranquillity, as though nothing could bother or surprise her anymore. She seemed so mature for her age.

Thus, he thought he was going to offer a smile and utter another reassuring statement that the press would forget them very quickly. But the intention quickly vanished into thin air as he noticed her wandering gaze like she was trying to avoid looking at him. He had seen that look before, on different people, but none of them had meant anything good. That uncertain, almost guilty, look was an alert for an upcoming calamity. He thought he caught a quick glimpse of her teary eyes and his heart started thumping in his chest. He began reviewing the words he had spoken to her, wondering if he had crossed any lines.

It was wrong. Everything. Their fated encounter and undesired chance reunion. Never had he come across such a thought. But watching her trying to keep herself composed, he finally came to terms with the fact that they were not meant to meet again. Perhaps he should have let it be, and let her go. But he had not. And he had hurt her. No.

He felt the urge to reach out, and pull her in his arms again. Now it seemed an appropriate thing to do. But he could not bring himself to come closer. The idea that his very existence had wounded her, and his brash eagerness to reunite had deepened that wound, was so dreadful he wished he could disappear.

She finally spoke again, between the choking sounds she was trying to hold back, claiming that he would never want to see her after this. She said it like a farewell. It was so ironic he almost laughed in bitterness. He had not tried to look for her all this time to ask for that goodbye she had forgotten to give him the night they were together, even when it seemed that she was putting the blame on herself. A strange fear crept up in his soul. He had felt it the morning he woke up to find out that she was gone. The fear that she was just a dream and he was out of his mind.

He wanted to ask her the agonizing question. Why. Why would he not want to see her again? His mouth fell open but he quickly bit his lower to keep the words from slipping out. “You were right about the parks of London.” His sudden interruption was irrelevant in every way, but it was necessary to distract himself from his own toxic curiosity, and maybe her from whatever she was about to reveal. He was not ready to put an end to their story. Not now. Not yet. Not ever, maybe. “I went to a few of them in the past weeks,” he continued blissfully in his aware ignorance, “I thought I might run into you there.” The familiar boyish grin spread across his weary face. “But I still think Paris has better parks, though.” He said while slowly closing the gap between them. Before he knew it, his hand was tucking a few strains of her hair behind her ear. He did not like the way they obscure her beautiful features. His fingertips trailed down to her neck, feeling her softness against his rough skin. His long fingers closed around her shoulder blades, holding her in place as he leaned down to press his lips lightly against her eyelids. He had told himself to keep distance but there he was, pushing all the limits he had set for himself.

“What I never want to see is you getting hurt.” He whispered quietly. His actions and words were conflicting, he knew. Only because his heart wanted her more than ever, despite all the warning signs his mind had registered. She was giving him a perfect opportunity to make up his mind, to let her go – for good. But she should have done that many nights earlier, before he had become so drawn to her there was no turning back. Now he prayed, that she would never say it. Let him be delusional. And happy. Even for just one more night. One more night to dive in those beautiful thoughts of Paris, London and the stars. “It’s nice to meet you again, my la Parisienne. I hope you can enjoy the company of Leonid Sergei as much as you enjoyed that of Leonid Rousseau.” He winked playfully.

Now she had seen both persons that he was – Leonid Rousseau the former Slytherin and the Prodigal Son of the Rousseau, and Leonid Sergei the captain of Puddlemere United Quidditch team.


tag: JACQUELINE AURORA TALBOTT
notes:

TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @ Delusional & SP

[JACQUELINE AURORA TALBOTT]

I left my body down on her knees over the bedside Watching you breathe
and I saw the fire I felt the flames I heard the banshees calling your name

His words were making her heart start to race all the more. There was something in his tone that said more than the words that slipped from his lips. It was so telling. Obsession was what she was used to people falling into with her. Foolish men who forgot she was an untouchable, men who thought that some how she could be turned into a housewife. But could she group him with them - not when this was what she had wanted....what she had asked for. It was hard to forget how she had just wanted one - she had wanted to call him her's. Of course she had known it could never be, it was something she should have never voiced because here they were now already suffering from her selfish desire.

There was a guilt that hit her at his words, the way they slipped out. She didn't need pictures in the papers and prints to remember him - he haunted her thoughts constantly. She doubted she could forget him even if she wanted to. But even know as everything threaten to crumble from her she couldn't bring herself to want to forget anything about him.

"Oh Leonid...you're impossible to forget." It felt like a sin to admit aloud. She had gone to such great lengths to keep herself hidden from a him foolishly thinking he would settle for her being just another body that had kept his bed warm for a moment in time. She tried her best to keep her face as he spoke though, even in the slight awkwardness he still managed to compliment her and give her that smile she was so taken by. And even still it made her heart race. Each beat almost painful as the dread was starting to fill her chest. This wasn't something that could last...even if it was a nice dream.

She half wished she had come just for him...they would be having a different conversation if she had though. There wouldn't be a scandal. There wouldn't be a situation like that either though...because their lives couldn't mix like that. She wanted to tell him again how wonderful he had played but the compliment couldn't come out. Instead she could only think of why she had actually come, who had given her friend the tickets - the reasoning behind the tickets even. It was hard to hide the shame she was feeling inside. Rarely did she feel shameful about her work - Leonid was making her feel many things she wasn't accustom to though. There as a stillness after the talk of scandal. She waited to hear him ask her why or foolishly tell her there was nothing she could do that would change his mind - he was truly a fool if he believed that though.

She wasn't sure what to make of his words at first. Why would he bring up their conversation from that night now? In her stunned state she struggled to respond. The struggle increased as he closed their space. She did not fight his touch though, she dare not when his comfort was what she craved even though it would never be deserved. She didn't even think as she reached out to warp her arms loosely around him her hands clutching to his uniform almost as if she was scared to let go. His touch was soft even with his rough skin, his warmth was overwhelming as it had been their first meeting. She couldn't help but close her eyes, it was bad enough the tears still trailed down her cheeks. To know he was seeing her cry - but the feeling over his lips pressing to her eyelids made her breath catch. How was she going to live knowing this was the end? How had she let herself get caught up in this?

His whisper hit her - even still he was worrying about her, and what she was feeling. She was so ignorant to what was to come and it was her fault for never giving him the warning. She had never felt a connection to another person like the one she had felt with him that night, she had let it blind her and she crossed lines before he even knew who she properly was. If she had been any other girl - this moment would be much different. But she wasn't another girl, she was just a foolish one.

How could she tell him the only thing that was going to hurt her was carrying on with him? Was there a way to explain it with out him having to know it all lead back to being her fault? Was there any way this ended with out him hating her and wishing he had never invited her back to his that night? Jacqueline really struggled to see how this could end well for either of them...he would be fine in time, some other beautiful girl with an acceptable lifestyle would occupy his thoughts and she would just be a whore. So she didn't speak. for the words that would come out would only draw her closer to ending this - and it was painful enough ending it like a coward that first time. She couldn't do it again, she wasn't that strong.

In many ways it was not fair to him, she knew two sides of him now and yet he only knew who she was behind closed doors. A women she could never be when others were around, a women she hardly ever was. Of course in her mind he was Leonid regardless - Sergei or Rousseau she deserved neither. She wanted to confess, she really did - but she was not a noble person. Slytherins were hardly self sacrificing after all...

It was wrong but she moved her arms that were wrapped around him slipping them up behind his neck as she raised herself on tip toe. It was easy to forget his true stature in memories. She had no hesitation in meeting his words with a kiss instead of a second introduction like his own. No, he didn't want to know about Aurora - she could never be his la Parisienne, and she had no doubts that he wouldn't want her to be after he knew the truth. So she made sure she wouldn't tell him, not in this moment.

If it was a scandal...why didn't they truly make it scandalous than? She felt breathless as she parted her lips from his. "Lets run away than, run away to Paris, to those parks you love...why don't you just take us away from all of this, from everyone here - from everything here." It wasn't like they could actually hide from the truth. It was going to come out. Maybe tomorrow, or maybe a few days after. There was more damage for her if she was fully named...but there would be damage regardless - the worst of it would be him.

Neither of them wanted to face her truth though, so why shouldn't they run? He was so worried it was his company that she wouldn't want to keep...but it would be her's that would be so undesirable. "You could truly make me your la Parisienne." Was this what she had been born for? It was what she had been bred and born from at the very least. Why would anyone truly expect any better from her, the daughter of a dead man and his dead mistress - this was exactly who they should have thought her to turn out to be....she should have realized this was her nature.

TAG: LEONID SERGEI ROUSSEAU
NOTES: