[dahliental] crazy stupid love. [tag; diederik]

Oh.

Zara was sitting on her sofa at home, her heart filled with disappointment. The house was empty. Aimee was in London, living it up at some swanky party on the South Bank. She could just imagine it; free flowing champagne, everyone dressed up to the nines, dancing, booze, amazing. Her parents were in Paris at a family get together. Zara had politely declined. She wasn't really in the party mood. She was three hours ago but not now.

She and Diederik had made some sort of haphazard plans to spend the night together. It was his suggestion and it had totally floored her. Did he not want to hang out with Prosper? She'd heard he was having some sort of party. Her parents thought she was going and had they known she'd be by herself, they'd never have left her alone. They were big on the touchy-feely-tell0me-what-you're-thinking-do-you-need-a-hug sort of parenting. While good in a crisis, it was probably why Zara was so horribly sensitive.

It was a beautiful night, though. The sky was a clear, inky blue and the temperature was barely above freezing. Not that people seemed to mind. From her seat, she could hear laughing and shouting, music, fireworks. She sighed as she looked down at her hands, nervously wringing her fingers together as she swallowed.

She'd spent so long getting ready. Hours, really. Her long blonde hair had been curled and set into glossy waves that shined, her deeply blue eyes mascared and sparkling and her lips were a deep shade of scarlet. Her golden dress had cap sleeves and antique lace, modestly cut and flattering, hugging her slender waist. Her shoes were by the door as she wiggled her bare toes into the plush carpet and her mind began to wander; was he with someone else? Unsurprising, really. Who wouldn't want to kiss the Quidditch captain at the stroke of midnight?

She still had time to get to Paris.

Though she wasn't in the party mood, sitting by herself was just…lame. It was after eleven in the evening now and she looked at the clock of the mantelpiece, the hands just idly ticking by. Zara wasn't sure if she liked New Year. The promise and excitement of a new start was nice but there was always lingering doubts of the past twelve months. She wasn't sure if it was really worth celebrating. There had been high points of last year for sure but her future was hurtling towards her so fast. This time next year, she'd be in Paris, a far cry from this little, homely seaside town.

She was seventeen years old and she'd never had a New Year's Kiss. It seemed silly that she would be so bothered by that fact but she was. Zara was never one to believe in fairytales but there was something innately magical about that and she was unable to shake the thought. Her list of New Year's resolutions had been pinned to the fridge door. Typical things, really. Eat better, work out a little more, try to travel, read classic literature. They were all boring and attainable. That was Zara Rousseau all over. Boring and attainable.

Enough was enough. With a grunt, she stood up and jogged upstairs to her bedroom where she grabbed her bag and threw various things into it; house keys, lipstick, a few hair ties and her purse. Shrugging on her blazer, she grabbed a scarf and wound it around her slender neck to shield herself from the cold as she looked at the address on the sheet of paper. She knew the area vaguely and she was sure that she'd be able to get there in one piece. She hoped there would be free alcohol. She was sure there would be. Her nanna was a biiiig drinker.

Giving herself a quick once over, she padded downstairs and slipped on her shoes, fluffing out her curls before yanking open the front door and stopping suddenly. There was a very familiar figure blocking her path. "Diederik." It wasn't a question because there was no doubt about who the man was. Her mouth suddenly felt a bit dry. She blinked and a rush of affection hit her all at once. He'd made it. Unable to help herself, she offered a smile. He looked a bit out of breath. "Hi."

Diederik apparated to the address that Zara had written on paper after taking the floo to France from his hometown. While Prosper's New Years party sounded great, the boy had to decline. He technically had to be with family even though they kind of ditched him at the last minute to go to his grandparents to watch some muggle fireworks at midnight. He believed Madelief would sure like that.

With a small knock on the door and an adjustment of his scarf, he was ready as ever. He had a little gift for Zara. If everything went as planned he'd ask her to be his girlfriend. There was little thought to any other girl who'd fit so nicely. He knew the next few months will be a little challenging with quidditch recruitment and exams, but he thought he'd grab her now, while he could, if she agreed. The seventeen year old believed that he'd make the most of it, and that he'd do his best to give her all the attention he could.

The door opened to an old lady, looking inside he found a couple of wide eyed meowing cats flicking their tales. The boy cleared his throat, "is Zara home?" was that her grandmother? She looked nothing at all like Zara. The old lady took to yelling at him, that he'd woken her up from her peaceful sleep and how that was rare these days. She told him to get off her porch making flailing motions with her arms. With a startled gaze, he backed up and down the steps. The door slammed and he found himself confused.

The boy looked at his watch, then back to the smudged paper. This was a dilemma. He apparated once again to another location that felt like the address, knocking on the door to hear barking noises and he stood there for a few minutes with no one answering the door. Zara never mentioned a dog. Did she have a dog? He looked over to spot a car. Muggles. With a sigh he walked down the sidewalk just a few ways, scanning the paper once more. He should of remembered not to set it on the kitchen counter where it would of gotten wet. But no. The boy thought to himself that he'd try again. Then after that, just go home and write the young lady an apology letter.

He thought long and hard as he stared down the letters and numbers. If his memory served him correctly, there was no doubt that this last destination had to be it. With a snap and pop the boy landed in the street in front of his destination. With a small sprint to avoid an oncoming car, and a walk up the steps he took a second to catch his breath.

The door opened just as he was about to knock. After a blink he pulled his hand down from the air. With a big inhale to catch his breath he gave the girl a smile, happy to see her on the other side of the door. "Good evening Zara," another breath, "sorry I'm a little late. Couldn't find your house." He chuckled a little at his own disbelief, shaking the paper in his hand slowly that had her address on it. "It got smudged... so I had to try every option." What a mistake that was. After a small pause he looked around a little, then looked her over for a moment, "You look like you're going somewhere..." he trailed off, unsure what to really do. If she was leaving, then he better just go home if that was the case. "It's getting close to midnight." He pointed at the clock he could see.

Zara just stared at him. She felt hot. A good hot, not like a fever type hot. More like a…fuzzy warmth. She smiled again. He'd made it! And he looked so smart. She really liked that tailored jacket of his. She blushed again faintly, feeling guilty that she was considering going to Paris. Diederik was a nice boy, he was always bound to show up. So what if he was a few hours late? Good things were always worth waiting for.

He'd said good evening and her stomach flipped, sending a delicious shot of excitement thrill down the length of her spine. Who said that nowadays? Boys her age usually just said "hi". Some just even greeted her with a grunt. "Good evening," she replied again softly, tilting her head so a lock of golden blonde hair curled against the curve of her shoulder. He'd gotten lost? Zara frowned, she thought she'd given pretty clear instructions. She reached out to take the paper and seeing the smudged words, she just about swooned when he said he had to try another option.

Diederik had gone all over the neighbourhood for her.

It was like a scene out of a Jane Austen novel. "Mm?" Zara asked, momentarily distracted but focusing when he noticed her appearance. "Oh! No, no at all," she said quickly, hastily yanking off her blazer and throwing it carelessly over her shoulder, pausing to offer him a lopsided grin. "No," she said again, dropping her bag to the floor and kicking it behind the front door. "I was just feeling a bit chilly but actually, I feel a lot warmer now." It must be Diederik. He always made her feel warmer.

"Is it?" Zara asked, looking alarmed. Almost midnight? Shit. "Quick, come in," she said swiftly, opening the door a little wider. Once he was in, she quickly shut the door and paused to kick her shoes back off, her bare feet touching the cold floor as she dropped back to her diminutive height. She really wanted to touch him but she wasn't sure if it was appropriate. From inside, she could hear laughter and a few premature fireworks exploding overhead. Having Diederik in her home was a brave and intimate move to make but she didn't feel scared.

"You must be freezing," she observed as she went directly into her wide and sparkling kitchen. Zara wasn't a big cook but her parents were. They often went to local food markets to pick up the freshest vegetables. Ignoring him for a moment, the blonde clattered around the room, placing a battered copper pan on the stove and adding some milk and carefully bringing it to the boil. She added a few tablespoons of cocoa powder and mixed it, making hot chocolate and tipping the warming, sweet drink into two mugs and striding over to Diederik and gently pressing it into his hands with a smile.

"I've got wine somewhere," she offered. "But you look frozen solid so I thought this was probably better for you. Wanna follow me?" She asked, turning to lead her friend through the hall and into the living room. Candles were lit and the glass doors were shut to keep the cold out. There were a few well worn but comfortable sofas near the exposed brick work, full of plump plum and duck egg blue cushions on it. Living so close to Chatoeil, Zara's home had a little balcony that overlooked the warm Mediterranean  sea and Chatoeil's beautiful and peaceful harbour. There was a small table on the decking with two chairs.

Zara sat back down, folding her long legs under her neatly as she sipped at her chocolate. "Thank you for coming," she said, genuinely flattered. "And I'm so sorry you had such trouble finding it," she frowned. Prosper lived less than thirty seconds away from her and she hadn't told him about Diederik coming over. He'd only make some sort of lewd comment and ruin it. For such a romantic and charming man, he sort of bulldozed everyone else's relationships. She could dismantle the relationship all on her own and without his help, thanks very much. She looked at him and her heart did a weird little fluttery thing. He looked so handsome in candlelight. Uh oh.

Falling into a comfortable silence, Zara jumped at the sound of a clock chiming. The noise was jarring and it made her swallow. Almost midnight. Every single fibre of her being was screaming at her to just lean across the sofa and kiss him. Her eyes dropped from his to his mouth and then back up again. Could he mind read?