[paris] two drifters, off to see the world [maddie]

march 2001

Things were finally starting to look up. Émilie Côté had long since given up on a few of her New Year's resolutions, but she had finally been able to cross one off her list: find a roommate and move out. And to outdo herself, she had found a roommate that was going to pastry school and was going to need to bake a lot at home to practice, which couldn't have been a more perfect match for her. Émilie had been putting up requests for a roommate everywhere she could think of and had had her fair share of weirdos respond, so when she and the new potential roommate had met, it was like a match made in pastry heaven.

Émilie wasn't able to drink coffee anymore thanks to her job, so they had met to talk over a glass of wine. One glass led to one bottle which led to two, and then they were figuring out when to go looking at places to live. The other girl, Madeline Fletcher, was just too perfect. Cute and blonde just like she was, with the added bonus of having a more miserable love life! Émilie felt just the tiniest bit bad feeling glad that someone was having a rougher time than she was. But it did also mean that they would have plenty to talk about and she would finally have someone that could genuinely like her without taking pity on her. Hopefully.

They had found an apartment almost immediately, and true, it was was a little shabby, but being blonde and adorable probably helped them get a cheaper rent all the same. Émilie didn't mind the fixer-upper quality of it, though. Even before they had moved in she had a million ideas for decorations as she liked to think of herself as an expert interior designer (even though her only previous design experience was her childhood bedroom and her dormitory at school). Still, everything would be even easier with the help of magic and she wasted no time once they had moved in at the beginning of March to get her projects underway.

The kitchen was first and was completed after their first full weekend in the place and was now a bright white with pink and gold accents about the place and plenty of clean space for Maddie to do whatever she needed to do (as Émilie had given up her "learn to cook" resolution a month ago). And now that it was the weekend once again, Émilie was going to work on the living room. Throughout the week she had painted a few different things for them to hang on the walls, but her main project today was going to be reupholstering an old sofa Maddie had bought from another pastry person. She had the fabric she wanted and now she just had to figure out what to do with it.

But first: breakfast. The woman smelled it before she wandered out of her bedroom, her blonde hair still tied up in the silk scarf she slept in, purple, fuzzy slippers on her feet, and a thin, purple bath robe thrown over her equally purple pajamas. "That smells amaaaazing," she declared as she entered the kitchen. Maddie's back was to her, but that didn't stop her from talking to her anyway. "I swear I'll make breakfast one day," she said with a nod, sliding into a chair at their small kitchen table for two, adding, "If you like burnt toast and black tea, that is." She giggled, resting her head in her hands, elbows propped up on the table.

"But if I can help, just let me know." Else, she was just going to wait to be fed, as usual.

[apartment decor inspiration here]

@Madeline Fletcher

This was good.

Madeline felt like a fully fledged adult. She wasn't dependant on anyone, she had a good job and her own apartment. Truth be told, she hadn't wanted to live alone. She'd been living previously in a perfect little apartment that overlooked the Seine. It was two bed roomed with a little balcony and gossamer curtains in one of those stunning buildings that were festooned all over guides to Paris. But then her marriage imploded.

She hadn't wanted to stay there. Everything was tainted by Ernie. Well, perhaps "tainted" was the wrong word. Tinged, maybe? Despite redecorating, she was haunted by visions of him at the breakfast table meaning she had to eat hers, sitting on the sofa with her cereal on her lap. It was wholly psychological but she could smell his aftershave on her sheets and in the air. It got to the point where she packed up and left and decided to move to another apartment, way across the city.

It wasn't perfect but it was okay. The plumbing was a little off and the hot water was more like warm water but it was fine. Things were starting to piece together, too. The walls were white and cream, making the small space seem more open as the light bounced around. It was turning into how she imagined Paris would be. A white washed apartment with a quirky room mate.

Émilie was a hoot. She was very funny and had that lovely, bohemian, Parisian  air about her that Madeline had longed to possess. They got on well, gave each other space and it was fun to be around someone who was so creative. Both girls were imaginative but it very different ways.

Maddie had been up since six and she was fully dressed. Her long blonde hair was tied back into a swishy ponytail that was high on her head, her long legs clad in denim as she wore a cream coloured jumper. The only mention that she'd been baking was the smudge of flour on her left cheek.

"Good morning!" She called brightly as she turned from the stove and chuckled at Émilie's appearance. Madeline was fine if Émilie wanted to bring someone home, guy or girl. She wasn't one to judge. The subject hadn't been breached but the other girl seemed like too much of a free spirit and lovely to be single. It was a crying shame if a lucky someone wasn't treated so such a morning spectacle.

"Are pancakes okay?" Madeline's pancakes were now far more refined. They were no longer the fat buttermilk American-style pancakes or the anaemic British ones. These were crepes. Lacy, thin and delicious pancakes which she expertly flipped from the frying pan onto a plate, which she presented to Émilie. On the table was a bowl of freshly sliced fruit, a small pot of jam, a bowl of sugar and a jar of chocolate spread. "I like black tea and burned toast," she grinned easily. "I grew up on that." Her mother, bless her, was never much of a cook and they often marvelled at where this culinary spark in Madeline came from.

"Nah I think I'm good?" She called over the sound of the fluffy batter sizzling in the pain. Maddie moved quickly and precisely, cleaning up her work surface as she went as she was taught in school. A tidy kitchen meant a tidy mind. She didn't mind making breakfast because that way, she was sure that the French girl was eating. Madeline was a feeder. She was always so worried when people didn't eat and at least this way, she was sure they were both healthy.

"You can make a pot of tea if you like?" She asked Émilie, pointing to a battered old spoon dimpled tea pot that was sitting on the kitchen counter. The best thing about Paris, apart from being the culinary Mecca, was the vast array of flea markets. They'd picked up tables and chairs, clocks and mirrors and everything in between. They were right as rain after they'd been salt-blasted and deep cleaned. "What're your plans for today?" She asked casually as she served up more pancakes, pausing to chew on a strawberry absently.

Madeline was honestly the best roommate ever. Émilie finally noticed the sugar, jams, fruit, and chocolate on the table and realized that she most assuredly had the best roommate ever. Maybe all those silly life circumstances that put her in the position to need a roommate as an adult woman were actually worth it if the kitchen always looked this inviting. "Pancakes are amazing," Émilie assured her with a nod. She had tried her hand at making crepes a couple months ago as part of her new year's resolution to learn how to cook, but it had taken much too much effort for such a poor result, so she had decided to save that resolution for next year.

Plus, Maddie's crepe's looked much better than whatever the French woman had tried to do in months past and she didn't need to try any to be pretty sure that they tasted better, too. She accepted the offered plate with two open, greedy hands and a wide smile on her face, like a kid at Christmas. "Well anytime you're homesick just let me know," she nodded, spooning jam on one half of her pancake and topping it with fruit before folding it delicately in half. She didn't like chocolate, but she wasn't about to say anything to ruin the mood.

They hadn't discussed many personal things yet, besides how they were both needing a good restart with everything in their own lives, and Émilie couldn't be more pleased with everything. These weren't pity pancakes, but I-think-you're-nice pancakes, hopefully, and that made them taste even better. She wasted no time digging in, giving no second thought to maybe waiting for the cook to join her at the table.

"I can make tea!" Émilie was almost too excited to help, if only to show just how appreciative she was that she didn't have to cook for herself. Her wand was tucked in among her curls, almost as a hair pin, but she tugged it out quickly and pointed it at the tea pot just a few feet away. It filled itself with water, brought itself to a near boil, and even added the tea bags itself as well. Helping was so much more enjoyable when she didn't actually have to do all that much. Plus, tea was so much harder to get wrong than all the various coffees that people at work wanted. If making a latte wrong was an Olympic sport, she would have brought home the gold for France more than once.

The tea steeped for a few minutes as the woman took a thoughtful bite of her breakfast. "I think," she started between bites, "I'm going to attempt to change out the fabric on the couch." She nodded authoritatively, adding "I can't magic out the smell." She had tried everything that had been suggested to her and nothing had been successful. "I have no idea what I'm doing, of course, but even I don't think I can somehow manage to blow up the place just by trying to reupholster something." She shrugged, knowing she was actually fully capable of messing things up to that degree, but she was pretty sure that would be a sure fire way to lose a roommate so she neglected to mention that minor detail.

"Or more painting." She nodded again, shrugging her shoulders. The white on the walls was perfect and let them bring color into the place with all their belongings, but somehow it was just too white. But Émilie had no idea what to replace the white with. "Or shopping." She was beginning to realize that she had no firm plans, and their apartment could always use more decorations. Or a new cat. "What were you thinking of doing?" She finally paused talking long enough to take a few more bites.

Maddie snorted with laughter and shook her head at the mention of homesickness. London hadn't been home for years now and the mere mention of setting foot on home soil was enough to make her want to vomit. As much as she liked Emilie, they weren't really at the point for her to spill her guts. Madeline had left behind her a catalogue of mistakes and at only nineteen, she dreaded to think what else she could possibly screw up.

"Aw thanks," the tall blonde said with a smile as the tea bags floated through the air. Emilie was playing a risky game. The French were almost as serious about coffee as the English were about tea. Then again, these were things that they could learn along the way. Cutting open her crepe with care, she delicately speared a strawberry on her fork and chewed, popping a little chocolate in there as well as she swallowed. Emilie worked really hard and like her mother, she was a feeder. She'd taken to packing her room mate a little fruit box in the mornings and whether or not she decided to take it with her was her choice.

As the cups flew with surprising force, she managed to catch one before it knocked her out. "Oh?" Maddie asked with interest. She wasn't really artistic or practical. Her only skill was with pastry, not upholstery. It seemed silly, considering she could construct a six foot croquembouche with her bare hands unaided.

At the mention of the smell, Madeline grimaced over her tea cup and wrinkled her nose. "That's dire," she told Emilie darkly. She laughed. It seemed both girls were as equally cack-handed as one another which was oddly comforting to know. She didn't finish her pancakes. Emilie didn't know about Logan and how he was the archetypal "one that got away". Anxiously, she chewed on her lower lip as a flicker of pain creased her pretty facial features for a split second. Strawberry pancakes always reminded her of him and she hated it.

"Photos too, maybe," she offered as she sipped her tea. "I'm much better with a camera than a brush," she admitted. The place still didn't feel like home yet. They'd moved in and settled but it still looked a little bit…clinical. She didn't want to hang any of her old photos. She wanted to take new ones, like cementing a fresh start. Paris was such a sprawling, beautiful city and she could easily fill up rolls and rolls of film without blinking an eye.

"Shopping is good," she said brightly. The wage at the bakery was impressive. Or at least, it would be in any other city than Paris. She was earning more than anyone she knew but rent and everything else blew a hole through it but she was determined to keep her savings for as long as possible. "I need some new baking stuff," she added, despite three of the kitchen cupboards already bursting with various forms of culinary nonsense. Thank goodness for magic being able to shrink things or they'd both be in big trouble. "Or sightseeing?" She asked hopefully before wincing. "I've never been up the Eiffel Tower before." She was a little anxious in case Emilie didn't want to accompany her. She understood, of course. It must be annoying and boring to have someone coo over something that was right on her doorstep.

"Ooh, yes! Photos would be lovely!" Émilie was a bit too excited about it, but even she knew how to appreciate other forms of art. And it really would look like more of a shared home if both the occupants had work on the walls. "I had a camera once, but all I was doing was taking photos of my cat and my maman didn't like having to pay to keep getting the same photo developed over and over and over again so she gave the camera to my brother instead." She sighed dramatically, an impaled strawberry on the end of her fork waving around, clearly still brooding over her loss more than six years ago.

She set her fork down before clapping her hands together, not bothering to finish chewing her mouthful before letting Madeline know just how brilliant she thought her ideas were. "Shopping and sightseeing it is!" She clapped her hands a few more times, wiggling her shoulders back and forth a bit as she danced in her chair. "I can't believe you've never been up the tower!" Never mind that she had come on a school trip before Beauxbatons and then dragged her family back to it every single time they visited the capital city. "I just need ten minutes or something to get ready."

She was out of her chair and running to her bedroom before her roommate had time to protest, throwing clothes around her room as she found the perfect thing to wear while playing the tour guide around Paris in the spring. The perfect thing ended up being a long and flowy pink dress and she threw it on before turning her attentions to her reflection in the mirror. Despite having only been awake for a handful of minutes, she didn't think she looked that unfortunate. Still, she used the majority of the rest of her time applying makeup, making sure she was absolutely presentable.

Pulling the scarf off her head, she let her curls fall, using her fingers to separate a few of the tighter curls and loosen them up. Nodding and smiling as she admired herself one last time, she grabbed her bag and slung it over her shoulder before reemerging in the kitchen. "Hi I'm Émilie and I will be your tour guide today," she said with a giggle, doing a twirl and making her dress flare out. Steadying herself once more, she nodded, her eyes searching the counter for the couple bottles of wine they still had unopened. "I find that the proper tourist always has a drink in hand, and I have become quite good at transfiguring bottles to look a little more... innocent," she said with a sly grin. She might not be good at too many things, but making a bottle of wine look like a bottle of soda was one of her fortes. "You might just have to drink your wine through a straw, but you'll get used to it."

She wasted no time in following through with her plan, storing their new bottles of 'soda' in her bag. "We should at least get to the park first," she giggled as she nodded, knowing full well that if they started now she wouldn't be quite the good tour guide she wanted to be, rather getting distracted by all the puppies and bakeries they would pass on the way. "Shall we?" Émilie held the door open for her friend and followed her out onto the street, pointing in the obvious direction of the Eiffel Tower, visible above the rooftops. "That way!" She linked her arm with Maddie's and marched her off, still rambling about things she was only half sure of.

"It's quite old, the tower," she nodded, trying her best to sound as serious as a tour guide should. "And made of metal. And tall." She probably should have paid attention to the many tours she had been on, or to the muggle history classes she was part of before Beauxbatons. "Monsieur Eiffel was overcompensating for a lot of things apparently."

It was miraculous how close their apartment was to the Champ de Mars, but once they stepped foot off the pavement, Émilie eagerly handed a bottle to Maddie, clinking the necks together before sneakily using her wand to open them both, taking a healthy swig of her own. Even though she knew it wasn't actually an ice cold cola, the taste of a sweet white wine was still a bit surprising and she couldn't help but snorting just the tiniest bit as she laughed.