[paris] shy violet. [tag; dorian]

She was tired.

Her feet were absolutely killing her. Having to stand in too high heels for hours on ends were really starting to take their toll. Eloise was very much a study hiking boot or Wellingtons kinda girl. But her boss was having none of it. "You walk like a truck driver," he'd said, flapping his hands at her surprised expression. Ballet flats were strictly forbidden. Of course, she hadn't listened. Her favourite pair of battered and worn, soft faux leather shoes were folded in her handbag at the back of the bar with her coat. There was no way she'd be able to teeter home in these.

Her set with the band had gone down well. The guys were great, they were the closest thing she had to family in this cold and unwelcoming city. They'd all packed up and gone home, leaving her alone in the clean bar. The lights had been turned off, save a few behind the bar that illuminated the various bottles of spirits.

It was late, a little after midnight. The club had long since shut but she was still here. Her apartment was lovely but it was lonely and she didn't like to spend too much time there. Carefully, Eloise made her way off the tall stage, feeling her way in the dim light. She sat down on the edge and went to remove her shoes, letting out a moan of satisfaction as she wiggled her toes, the nails of which were painted a deep shade of red. "Yeouch," she winced, frowning at her toes which were a bit pinker than usual. She let them fall to the floor with a dull thud.

She was dressed in a short royal blue taffeta dress. It wasn't her usual style but she had to portray a character. Her boss made her. The dress had a sweetheart neckline and it was moulded to her body, fitted to her slim waist and flared over her substantial hips. It was cut considerably above the knee and she was not okay with that. She felt awkward and ungraceful.

There was one good thing, though; Dorian.

The regular bartender, Russell, had been taking days off. His wife had just had a baby and he was on his paternity leave and so, Dori had stepped in. How had he been sourced? Wasn't he living in London? Wasn't it a bit much having to apparate all the way here at short notice? She tutted to herself in the dark, shaking her head. She didn't care. Their relationship was almost mended. They'd been spending more time together lately and it was like old times. They'd had picnics, gone to the park, visited art galleries. He could have wanted to watch paint dry and she'd break her neck to accompany him.

She limped across the wooden floor to the bar before plonking herself down on one of the tall black leather bar stools. Reaching up, her hands went straight to her hair. For the evening, her long golden hair had been twisted and beautiful updo, all of her hair swept back off her pretty face. And it hurt. Her hair had been brushed and backcombed within an inch of it's life. Silently, she began to take it down. She winced, tugging out hair pins and placing them in a small pile that was rapidly growing.

All the hard work disappeared as her curls returned, messy and unruly as they slipped down over her shoulder as she reached up to gently massage the sore spots where her hair had been twisted and pinned too tightly. She looked ridiculous and she knew it. A short girl with sore feet, a too short dress and messy hair.

It was so quiet tonight, all she could hear was the ticking of a clock, slow and steady. She crossed her slender legs at the knee, hastily draping the hem of her pretty dress as low as it could go. Why she couldn't sing in jeans, she'd never know.

Dorian was still around. Perhaps in the back, locking up the back door. Eloise chewed on a full scarlet red lower lip as she debated. She looked over her shoulder, her emerald green eyes wide and cautious before she leant over the bar. Her slender fingers gripped a half empty bottle of red wine. It had been left. No one wanted it. Without waiting, she lifted it to her mouth to take a sip and as she did, the door opened. Panicking, she swallowed and pushed the bottle away from her. "Hey Dori, what's up?" The blonde asked, clearly frazzled. She'd never said the phrase what's up? in her entire life.

Humming lowly, the tall dark-haired Frenchman dressed in all black puttered around, putting the last few empty bottles in the trash out back. It had been a good night, patrons had been decent with their tips, he hadn't had many overly drunk customers (except for the ancient man who always sat in the corner and looked like he was one sip away from crumbling into dust), and the live music had been good. Really good. Just as always.

Dorian Delerue, the part-time artist and full-time dreamer, was bartending only as a fill in for the regular bartender. When he left school, he never quite imagined that he would be serving firewhiskeys as a career, but that's where he was now and all things considered, he didn't mind that much. Sure, he was living in London and bartending regularly in London too. But Paris was Paris. And there was a certain je ne sais quoi about Paris. His lips curved up in a smile just thinking about the city and about a particular little blonde.

It was probably pathetic that he had found himself in the one place he knew she visited regularly, but he couldn't help it. And he didn't question it too much either. He was good with just talking to her in between sets, sliding her lemon iced water across the bar, and then chatting with her in the low lights after the bar had closed and everyone had left. It was easy, just like old times. He felt himself falling into a rhythm with her that was so natural. And considering she was always so pleasant and so warm with him, he was starting to feel like she didn't hold anything against him. Her forgiveness was mind-boggling but he wasn't about to question it when he was getting exactly what he wanted.

He found himself wanting to do little things for her too. Tonight was a prime example of that. He picked up a crate of bottles and placed it down next to the door, glancing around in the back to see if he had forgotten to do anything else. Then charmed another crate of clean glasses, turned to push the door open with his back and walked into the front of the house, the crate floating along gently behind him. In his hands was a little surprise for her and he turned back to face her, revealing the surprise.

It was a small plate of bread and cheese and grapes. Nothing fancy, but he thought maybe she might be hungry after a long night of working. And maybe he just wanted an excuse to spend a few extra minutes with her. He set it down in front of her and smiled back, "What's up yourself?"

He didn't say anything about the wine bottle, but the way she looked frazzled about it was adorable. He smoothly took two glasses out from behind the counter and lifted the bottle saying, "I'm parched. Would you like some too?" He watched as the red liquid filled one cup and then the other. With wine glass in hand, he leaned his elbows on the bar across from her and stuck a piece of cheese and bread in his mouth. "I'm exhausted," he said when he was done chewing. "Great set tonight, by the way," he tried to say with as much cool as possible. He was a complete fanboy of her music, but he figured cool and collected would be much better than creepy and stalkerish.

This had sort of become their little ritual. Eloise only sang three or four times a week but whenever she did, she stayed behind with him. She liked it. She let him complain about his day but she very rarely paid attention. She was too busy staring at him. She'd come to notice little things, just tiny things. Like how his cheek dimpled when he really smiled or the way his hair hung in his eyes. His eyes, however, were gorgeous. They were so blue, like a swimming pool.

She was sure she'd told him that when they were in school at some point. Not that is mattered. They were sort of friends now. At least, she thought and hoped they were. They were losing the awkwardness that had plagued them for weeks and she was so so thankful. She missed him. Just hanging out. They didn't even really have to talk.

Eloise laughed but it didn't sound like her own. It was a bit shrill and very nervous. Quite rightly so. The bottle of wine had been discarded but she was still effectively stealing from work if she was drinking it. She cringed internally, mentally kicking herself before she settled on flipping her hand through the air nonchalantly. "Oh, you know," she said vaguely and on purpose. "My feet hurt," she admitted with a lopsided grin. The cool air of the bar felt divine on her feet. She'd lost her shoes ages ago.

Her eyes dropped to the plate he was carrying and she felt her heart positively melt. Her pale cheeks flushed a light pink as she smiled, leaving the plate firmly in the middle of the two of them. It was for sharing. Her little fingers reached out to take a grape and take a small bite out of it. Even when not in her Animagus form, Eloise had a lot of her bunny characteristics. She took small bites of food, she was awfully jumpy, her temperature was always considerably warmer and lately, she'd taken to sleeping on her back with her legs in the air. Weird.

She broke off a small bit of bread and began to chew. "This is really lovely, thank you," she told Dorian, holding a hand to her mouth politely. It was lovely. How sweet and thoughtful was he? She really was starving.

At the mention of wine, she nodded. She couldn't talk. Eloise hadn't realised that her cheeks had puffed outwards, full of bread as she happily chewed along, nodding agreeably. As Dorian moved towards her over the bar, she didn't pull back. Dorian had such a gorgeous aura. It was bright and warm and pure; he was an energiser. He made her feel better. Her pale fingers took the glass as she took a smile sip before smiling. "Then why are you still here?" She asked, curious. He said he was exhausted but he was still here. "I would have helped you. You'd be home by now.

Eloise offered him a wide and beatific smile. "Really?" She asked, flushing pink with pleasure. "Thank you. The guys wrote a new song, it was the first time it was played in public. Did you like it?" She asked him again. She found herself becoming more and more interested in what Dorian thought about her voice. She had no artistic talent and she just fell into this job because she needed the money for school. She watched him carefully. "Did you make some good money tonight?" She asked brightly, looking for the tip jar. She hoped so. He mentioned once about saving up more money so he could go travelling again.

A small, dark part of her hoped he had made some money. More money than he made in London. That way, he could move here and be close to her. But that was wrong and selfish. She folded her lips together and looked down at her wine glass, absently swirling the ruby coloured liquid around the glass.

"I'm such a mess," she laughed, reaching up to pull yet another clip out of her hair and dropping it on the bar. She winced as her fingers got caught in a lock of hair that had been covered with hair spray to keep everything neat and tidy. While she was singing, she tried to catch Dori's eye but he was busy chatting and serving customers. A passing thought had been to write him a song, lay it all on the table. Because yes, yes she was in love with him. She had a sneaking suspicion she had been since she was thirteen years old. She offered him a shy smile. "You look really nice tonight," she blurted out without thinking. He looked so tall and smart dressed all in black. Swallowing, she grabbed her glass and took a large gulp.

"We could go get foot massages together," he offered with a smile. "These heels have been killing my feet all night too," Dorian joked as he glanced down at his feet and his pretend heels, his dimples showing, his blues eyes twinkling with amusement. Sure the heels made her feet hurt by the end of the night, but she looked killer when she was up on that stage. He couldn't decide if he liked that Eloise, all sexy and sultry and mesmerizing, or the cuddly-looking Eloise who hung out with him on the grounds at Beauxbatons. Did he have to choose? Because both were amazing.

He rolled a few grapes into the palm of his hand and popped them into his mouth one after another, his blue eyes still on her. It was like he was drinking her in and he couldn't get enough. When she asked why he was still here, he smiled sheepishly and averted his eyes, his fingers tracing the grain of wood on the bar. He shrugged a little and said, "It's nice here after closing, don't you think?" He turned his head and glanced around the bar. The normally crowded and noisy bar was now quiet, peaceful almost. The air was clearer, fresher. The lights were low, casting a warm glow around the room. The tables and chairs just waiting, anticipating the next night's crowd of customers. Dorian liked the stark difference. There was all that. And then there was the girl sitting across from him. "...Sometimes it's just nice to stay a little bit longer.. see what this place becomes when everyone leaves.. " he trailed in and out and then shrugged a little at the end. He didn't realize he was feeling so idyllic tonight. He rubbed his fingers together absently, almost wishing he had a paintbrush between them.

"The one about the stars right?" he asked, remembering that song was one he hadn't heard her sing before. He nodded with a sincere smile, "I really liked that one. The chorus might be stuck in my head for the next week." That and the look about her when she was singing and her smile and the way the light shone on her blonde hair...

"Do you help the guys write the songs too?" he asked, refocusing on her instead of his distracting thoughts. Shifting his weight to one foot, he nodded and leaned his chin in his hand and took a bite out of a piece of cheese. "Yes, a decent amount. It was a good night tonight."

He laughed along with her, but for another reason. "If you're a mess, I'm a train wreck." And to demonstrate, he slumped more on the bar, his chin resting precariously on the edge of his palm. He moved his head so that his dark hair went into his eyes and he pulled a sloppy, spaced out expression. He kept it up for about a half a minute before the smile he was suppressing appeared anyway.

"Not as nice as you," he replied when she complimented him, loving the way she smiled at him. "I'm surprised you don't have your own personal bodyguards by now," he said before he could stop himself. He looked away as he took a sip of his wine, a darker expression flickering across his face. From behind the bar, he heard guys say all sorts of things about Eloise and the way she looked and what they would do with her if they got the chance. It was probably a good thing Dorian wasn't much of a violent, confrontational person.

She laughed. Properly this time. The idea of getting any kind of massage sounded really quite funny. "Sounds good," she joked. A massage did seem appealing. What she tended to do when she got home was fill her washing up bowl full of hot soapy water, carry it into her living room, sit on the sofa and soak her feet. But she was horribly twitchy and ticklish. Besides, weren't foot rubs a bit…intimate? In the dimly lit bar, Eloise entertained a daydream of Dorian sat on her sofa, chatting, her legs on his knees as he worked the sore spots on the balls of her left foot --

Oh.

She grinned broadly. "I hadn't even stopped to think about your feet," the small blonde said as she leant over the bar to look. "You've been on your feet all night, too," she remembered. She didn't like to complain but her feet were burning. At least she could apparate home. Then again, she didn't often. She much preferred to wander through this beautiful and scary city at night. It probably wasn't the best idea, a young girl meandering through the place after dark but she hadn't gotten hurt just yet.

Eloise nodded eagerly. She did agree with Dorian, to a certain extent. Honestly? She stayed because he stayed. The extra hour alone with him meant more to her than it maybe should have. She didn't care for the bar. She didn't like it. She watched him closely. The way he dropped his gaze made her worry. Was he staying because there was trouble at home? Were his flat mates kicking up a fuss? She parted her plump lips to ask but decided it was a bit rude. It was none of her business after all.

"The peace and quiet is great," she offered cheerfully as her little fingers neatly broke off a small bit of bread before she chewed. It was pathetic and she was such a sad sack, sat at a bar with a glass of wine, pining over the bartender. She was a walking cliché. She sipped her wine again. It was particularly nice, perhaps that was just because she was tired and thirsty. She picked up a paper napkin and dabbed at her mouth, careful not to let the wine stain her lips before she offered him a quick smile. "I forgot you were a poetic soul," she offered softly. It wasn't a criticism, it was a compliment.

Surprise registered on her pretty face. "Yeah," she said with a slow smile that made her eyes sparkle. She was touched he was paying enough attention to the lyrics she was singing but the small voice at the back of her head spoke again. You're an idiot, it sneered, causing her to swallow quickly. He's being polite. He's bored of you and your out of tune voice. Her initial joy had been well and truly squashed. Regardless, she smiled. The fact he liked the song, never mind replaying it, made her happy. Happy to know that maybe he was thinking of her. "Maybe we can get a recording contract," she joked flippantly as her hand went for another grape.

"Sometimes?" Eloise offered. "But my job is to sing, not to interfere," she chuckled with a shake of her head, sending messy blonde curls flying. "The guys," she said, referring to the band. "Take it a lot more seriously than I do. This is their life, not mine," she said gently as she absently swirled her wine around her glass absently. "I did write the chorus you said you liked, though," she was quick to add, her stomach muscles twisting and turning as a shot of excitement thrilled down the length of her spine. She smiled at him making better money. Maybe that could be another reason he might want to stay.

"No you're not, you're perfect," Eloise stated before she could stop herself. She blushed very faintly, watching him. Dori was perfect. She was absolutely dying to ask if he had a girlfriend back in London but she was holding out because she sort of already knew the answer was yes. Why would he be single? There was no way. She laughed anyway, flapping her hands at him across the bar. "Oh stop," she chided, reaching out to playfully swat his cheek. In actual fact, her finger tips just brushed his hair and it felt like an electric shock. Right though her entire body. A jolt. Oh no.

She blushed as she retracted her hand, lifting it to tangle her fingers in her long blonde hair, looking embarrassed. "Trust me, this wouldn't be my regular choice of outfit," she replied as she plucked at the bodice of her deeply blue dress. Her boss made her wear clothes that were designed to snare males. It was actually a bit disheartening. She only looked nice because she wasn't herself. She'd been buffed and exfoliated to within an inch of her life, made up and squeezed into a dress that her hips didn't really want to get into.

"Bodyguards?" Eloise asked with a laugh, her green eyes wide. "Why on Earth would I need bodyguards?" She chuckled, still watching him, even as he dropped his gaze. Dori had a point, though. She did need a minder. She reached out and very gently tapped his wrist with a forefinger. "I know you wouldn't get anything bad happen to me," she said gently. Well, that might have been true five years ago but now? Now, she wasn't so sure. "I'm gonna get some more wine." With that, she hopped off her bar stool and stepped around the other side of the bar and next to Dorian.

With her hands on her hips, she surveyed the wide array of bottles as she chewed on her lower lip. She really wanted that bottle of red, a Bordeaux, near the top but she couldn't reach it. In vain, she stood on her tiptoes and made a swipe for it. If her boss made her wear heels, she wanted compensation. Simple as.

He shrugged lightly. "No, it's not so bad. My mum got me this pair with cloud insides, you know the ones that feel like pillows," Dorian said with a smile and a roll of his eyes.  Sure he was an adult now and perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but his mum still thought he didn't eat well enough and needed her to buy him shoes.

A poetic soul. He smiled and gazed at her, thinking a) he was being poetically lame and not poetically artistic like she thought and b) that even though he thought that, he liked the way she thought of him.  It was like she always saw the best in him, saw the truth in him. He liked that. "I didn't realize I was feeling so.. poetic--" he said using her nicer term instead of his self-deprecating one. "--tonight. Maybe my brain just stops working after a certain time and I just start spouting nonsense."

He grinned as she joked about the recording contract and took a few more grapes off the plate himself, but he didn't let it go that easily. "Have you ever thought about it? I mean, whenever you guys perform it always seems like there's more of a crowd that comes and stays just to hear you." In his opinion, he'd be hard-pressed to find another lead singer who was as talented and appealing as Eloise was. He actually didn't even it would be possible. But if he said that aloud, it might be too forward and he didn't want to chance it.


"Oh?" he asked when she admitted she had written the chorus. Was it by chance that that was the main part of the song that stood out to him? Don't be an idiot, Dorian. Most people only remember the choruses of songs, there's nothing special about you remembering the chorus she wrote. Yet he couldn't hold back from telling her. "Really well done on that chorus then. Wish I had a recording of it or something so I could play it whenever I wanted," he said with a chuckle. "Have you written any other songs I don't know about?" he asked, a twinkle in his eye.

His heart thudded louder when she touched him and immediately he started thinking of more ways to get her to touch him even if accidental, even if it was only in play. He felt like he was a first year again with his first crush. How pathetic. "You still look amazing," he said with an appreciative look in his eyes. "And every guy that walks through the doors thinks the same thing so maybe we should think about getting you a bodyguard," he answered her as he watched her scoot around the bar. Seeing her behind the bar was odd for him, but he liked it. Especially when she tried reaching for a bottle that was obviously out of her reach. He couldn't stop his eyes from looking at her legs where her dress rose up as she reached for the bottle on the top shelf.

He couldn't stop staring.

It was a few long moments before he realized he should probably be a gentleman and help. He took a step forward just behind her and reached easily over her head for the bottle, his body brushing against hers for the briefest of moments. Dori wanted to linger there, so near her, but stepped back instead. "I'll open it for you," he said swallowing. He poured them both more and handed her glass to him and hoped that she wouldn't see his hand shaking.

Eloise laughed loudly. She watched Dorian with interest, her big green eyes sparkling and her smile wide. He was so funny! And smart and kind and energetic. "You're such a mama's boy," the blonde chided, clearly joking as her smile grew and dimpled her left cheek. The fact his mother worried about him so much was just the cutest thing. She liked Mrs. Delerue, she liked her a lot. The older woman had always been nothing but lovely so here but since she and Dori fell out, she hadn't dared bother her again.

"How is your mum?" Eloise asked as she picked up her wine glass and took another small sip. She wanted to hear about his family, even if they were strangers now. She wouldn't think about darkening the Delerue family door with her presence ever again. She felt guilty and embarrassed. She wanted to know if Thomas married his girlfriend yet. She looked down at the bar again, hating her own feelings.

She chuckled, sipping her wine again. The bar felt nice, all dimly lit and cosy. Eloise liked the dark, there was always something special and she felt so safe with Dorian so close to her. "Nothing you say is nonsense," she said, quickly putting an end to his train of thought. She meant what she said. She absolutely adored him. She loved the sound of his voice, it was like a lullaby but she couldn't tell him that.

"Oh no," she commented hastily with a shake of her head, sending long blonde curls flying as she flushed pink. She took a piece of bread, absently and nervously pulling very small bits off and smushing them together. "It's not really steady work," she commented with a soft smile in his direction. "It'd be fun, sure," she went on to day. "But it's not really secure? And I don't know how many people would buy anything with my voice on it," she joked with another smile. "Maybe as a hobby," she offered gently.

Feeling self conscious, she nodded gently. "Thank you," Eloise grinned, blushing again as she hung her head, her curls slipping forward to hide her scarlet cheeks. "Just bits and pieces," she said vaguely and she was being conscious to be careful. She didn't want to say that anything she'd written was sort of aimed at him. She was confident he wouldn't realise that. Sipping her wine again, her smile was hidden behind the rim of her glass. "I could sing for you any time you like." As soon as she said it, she entertained ideas of them together. In bed. Dori was sleeping, she was singing softly, running her fingers through his hair gently.

When Dorian mentioned she was getting some male attention, she blinked, her pretty facial features creasing with confusion. "Could that be a job for you?" Eloise asked, sounding more flirtatious than she meant.

The bottle was too high. She let out a grunt, thoroughly annoyed at her lack of height. She really wanted to try it and she knew a replacement would come straight out of her next pay cheque but she didn't really mind. Then she froze. He was behind her and she could feel the heat radiating from his body, so close. She held herself stiffly, turning her head just a little so her chin was resting on her shoulder so she could watch him out of the corner of her eye. This. This felt…magical. Her hormones were skittering everywhere.

Eloise was quick to turn, her back now against the bottles and his body close to hers. His front had touched her back, softly, like a backwards hug but now they were facing each other. Her heart thudded against her ribcage so hard he could feel it. Her eyes dropped to his mouth. His lips looked so soft and inviting in the dim light. Nervously, Eloise licked her lower lip as her eyes slipped lower, admiring his throat and the little glimpse of his collarbones. Something was happening to her. Two front teeth rested on her lower lip, her hand carefully reaching out to touch his chest before he backed away quickly.

"T-thank you," Eloise stammered, forcing herself to swallow. She was about to make a move and he backed away. Typical. Pathetically, the hand she held out to him dropped to her side as she offered a faint smile, lifting her other to take the glass and take a large sip. She nodded, making a soft sound of agreement as she took another step back and away from him, resting against the wall of bottles. "This is really good," she found herself blabbing before drinking some more and wishing someone would kill her. That was a close shave and she was freaking out internally.

Dori shrugged with a sheepish smile as he looked down at his hands. Being a mama’s boy was maybe a little embarrassing and the 21-year-old didn’t want to admit to that kind of truth… but it was also pretty true so he just shrugged a response. With Eloise, it was okay to be a mama’s boy. He didn’t mind her knowing that. He glanced back up at her when she asked about his mother. He had kind of forgotten that El was familiar with his mother. He didn’t know why but El asking about his mom made him happy.

“She’s good,” he said rolling a grape between his fingers. “She owled me last week, asking if I needed more socks.” He chuckled and rolled his eyes for her benefit. His mom liked to hover. She even did it to Thomas, his older brother. Dori thought it was unnecessary, but didn’t mind it too much.

“I would buy it,” he said immediately and with a little too much enthusiasm. Be cool, Delerue, he chided himself. “Or you know.. you could slide a copy my way free of charge since we’re friends and all, right?” He laughed a little, trying to cover his obsessive blunder, but rubbed his neck self-consciously, thinking he didn’t really do too good of a job of it.

His eyes caught hers and he stilled, simply watched as she peeked around her wine glass. He didn’t say anything for a few long moments, just gazed at her. It felt like she had trapped him, in the best possible way, and he wasn’t looking to escape. Finally, he responded in a soft tone, “I’d love to hear you sing for me. Any time.. Maybe now even?” He smiled pleasantly to let her know he was joking. Kind of. He would kill to hear her sing for him, but he didn’t want her to think he was demanding it. He almost wished he had that sort of power. 

She was intoxicating. Being so near here sent his heart into overdrive. He was worried she might be able to hear it thudding pathetically just because she was so close to him. And yet he maybe wanted her to know the effect she had on him. He liked being this close, liked seeing her eye on his lips. Liked the way she bit her lip and touched his chest. It was such a quiet, cozy moment that he thought even his breathing was too loud.

He sipped the wine when she did, a sudden worry coming over him. He would have to say goodbye to her soon, they would obviously have to leave the bar at some point. He didn’t like the thought of that even though he knew it was the rational, practical thing. He wanted to keep her talking, keep her here, even if it was only for a few more minutes. “So. .when are you working again?” he asked, even though he pretty much knew the answer.

He was so cute.

She smiled at him encouragingly. She liked this Dori. He was shy and sweet and not at all pretentious. That was one thing she admired about him; he was always true to himself. And it was so attractive. She smiled again. In Beauxbatons, the Delerues had always been a sort of surrogate family for her. She sometimes had Sunday dinners with them in the school holidays and even once, she visited on Christmas day. They were all so kind and so lovely and so utterly generous that Eloise often looked back and felt terribly guilty.

She couldn't help but feel as though she'd thrown all of their kindness back in their faces when she accidentally hurt Dorian. She'd stopped getting Christmas cards from his parents years ago and the thought still stung more than she was willing to admit.

"Good," she said with a grin, snorting softly about the socks. The Delerues were good people. The best, really. She looked down at the bar, some of her long curls slipping over her shoulder as she followed suit and picked up a grape. She was no longer that hungry but he'd been so nice as to make her something, she just popped it into her mouth and chewed gently. "How's your dad? And Thomas?" She asked quickly, wanting to hear everything about them. She cried just as much about losing them as she did about losing Dorian. "Has he married his girlfriend yet?" She enquired. If Thomas had, it wouldn't surprise her that she didn't receive an invitation.

"Thank you," Eloise said. She was sure he was just being nice, maybe making small talk. It just felt a bit…odd. They'd been so close and yet grown so far so really, they were just trying to learn how to be around each other again. "Of course I would," she was quick to reply with wide eyes as though having him pay for anything was just absurd. "I'd never make you pay," she said quietly. It was adorable when he was younger how he was dead set on paying for coffee or anything but she was a big girl. "When I make my big break, you can have front row seats," she joked with a smile before looking down. Looking so put together all the time was just so exhausting.

"N-now?" Eloise stammered, looking utterly shocked as her head jerked up in surprise. Oh wow. She blushed quickly, caught totally off-guard as she paused. She couldn't say no, this was her job after all. "I --" she began, internally panicking. It would be just him and her. No one else. No bright lights, no backing music, no other people. Just them. Stripped back totally. A capella. How utterly and completely terrifying. "Alright but don't laugh," she chided him playfully, downing the rest of her wine glass for a bit of Dutch courage.

She took a quick breath and looked at her bare feet, fingers interlinked loosely as she swallowed. Suddenly, she looked very much like the old Eloise; shy, quiet and uncomplicated. And she began to sing. Her voice was clear but lacked the extra wow factor it had when she was on stage some hours earlier and she didn't meet his eyes. Why? Because it was about him and she felt horrifically awkward looking at him. It was best he didn't know anyway. It'd only complicate things even more. They were in a pretty good place now. She carried on, always waiting in case he stopped her.

There was a palpable shift.

It was tangible. Did he feel it too? A frisson. Eloise stared back at him, feeling a shot of excitement thrill down the length of her spine. She was longing for him to touch her, yearning really. She'd never seen him look so handsome, all tall and lovely, dressed in black. The candlelight highlighted the planes in his face and she really wanted to touch his cheekbones. His hair, his arms, his hands, something, anything. It was all confirmed in that fleeting moment; he was the one for her.

When Dori didn't respond to her touch, she smiled weakly. That was okay. Maybe now she could try and move on, maybe find herself a nice Parisian boy who would take her to galleries and buy her coffee and flowers and take her on picnics by the Seine. When he backed off, she could take a breath. She hadn't realised she'd actually stopped breathing for a little bit. She took another sip of wine and didn't meet his gaze, hoping he didn't notice the faint shroud of awkwardness that had now settled over her. She suddenly felt a bit sad.

"Oh," she whispered. "Wednesday, I think?" She asked, figuring he meant when was she here again. She was at vet school almost every day but she had a break from this place for a few nights. "So I have a few nights off," Eloise responded. "So I'll probably put on a fuzzy sweater and watch the light show from my balcony," she remarked, thinking back to a few months ago when he asked if he could come with her. They still hadn't done that. She offered him another smile as she placed her wine glass back on the bar. Maybe she was laying down the ground work for seeing him again. "Excuse me," she said gently, trying to move around him, holding her body stiffly as not to brush his chest as she walked around the other side, the bar acting like a barrier between them.

Sat back on her stool, she quickly grabbed her battered old shoes and slipped them back on. "You're done working here now, aren't you?" She asked, knowing that Dorian's time here wasn't permanent and that Russell, the usual bartender, would be back soon. "Well I hope you liked Paris," she commented cheerfully, her little fingers scraping back her hair and securing it into a ponytail with an elastic she had around her wrist. "I wonder how the nightlife compares with London." Urgh. Why did she ask that for? She didn't want to talk about work but it seemed safer somehow.

"No, not married yet," Dori replied with a wry smile. "At the rate he's going, I'll be married before he is." He joked and then made eye contact with Eloise. It took him a second but when he realized what he said and maybe how that might be a little awkward considering he had once dreamed of marrying Eloise, he coughed to the side and hoped his cheeks weren't flushing.

But no matter how awkward he was, Eloise always seemed to smooth everything over with her smiles and her soft laughter and Dori felt less self-conscious. "Front row seats? Pssh. I want backstage passes. And a free tshirt with your face on it or something," he grinned at that thought, amused at the thought of him wearing a tshirt with her face on it and that he would probably totally love doing that. Maybe too much. He rolled a small, puny grape around on the counter, not intending to eat it because of its puny looking appearance. He was quiet through her hesitation. He didn't want to rush and say she didn't have to because, let's be honest, he may or may not have daydreamed about her singing just for him, but he also didn't want to influence her. He wanted her to sing for him because she wanted to.

And when she did, he was dazzled.

Her voice was silky and smooth and high and clear and she looked so sweet singing there for him. And sure it was just a song, just words she was singing, but Dori couldn't help but wonder at the song choice. His mind jumped to conclusions that he probably shouldn't even be thinking. He so wanted to believe the song was about him. That maybe it was all about him. He thought the lyrics described himself perfectly. He very much wanted to make eye contact with her, to get some kind of hint to see if he was right. But she didn't look at him at all. The feelings, so sure on his end, but completely uncertain on her side reminded him of the last time he acted on those sorts of feelings. Yeah, he wasn't doing that again.

When she stopped, he really couldn't think of anything to say. She deserved pretty words and the loveliest poetry of how her singing made her feel, earned a whole gallery of paintings just with that one song. But all he could say was, "thank you... thank you."

The shift back to real world things where he and El were just friends instead of his headspace where it was much more than that was disheartening. The light show? "You'll have to show me that sometime," he said, trying to be casual about it. He really wanted to do that. Picturing her in a fuzzy sweater was.. ugh, he probably looked like a pathetic lost puppy. Watching her put her shoes back on cued him that maybe it was time he stop stalking her and actually go home. London didn't really feel like home though. And he told her as much. "The London nightlife is nice, but sometimes its just not ... " He couldn't think of the word to describe it. So he just shrugged and left it at that.

He put away the dishes they had used and the glasses and summoned his bag as he walked around the bar. "Want me to walk you home or are you apparating?"

Meeting his shocking and beautiful blue eyes, she felt herself smile. It was strange, marriage. When she was sixteen, she thought she'd be marrying Richard. Urgh. She was so taken with Dorian's friend, it was insane. It was puppy love and nothing more but now? She hadn't thought of Richard in months. Years, actually. She didn't care where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. He didn't mean anything to her any more.

She felt awkward. She was nineteen, far too young to really settle down but the idea of settling down with Dorian felt…gorgeous. Right. She always thought he'd be the best boyfriend. Sweet, kind and doting and if she ever wanted a cup of tea at three in the morning, he'd get up and make her one. It was all silly, of course. Maybe they were destined to fall for each other but not be together. Like ships in the night. He used to like her and he'd moved on and now she was so certain she was in love with him.

All the signs were there. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep, she got so jealous when she saw him at the bar, chatting with taller, slimmer, prettier girls with that gorgeous smile of his. She was a miniature troll and she knew it. It was like a romantic novel the way her feelings for him were unfolding. She'd spent months crying over it. Silly. She was so silly.

She smiled again. She remembered when she read his palm. The lines said he'd get married and have kids. "I'm sure he'll get around to it," she said breezily. "You will, too." Eloise laughed, high and melodic as she nodded eagerly, her golden blonde curls bouncing. "Consider it done. The tee shirt too," she grinned at him, clearly amused and determined to keep herself cheerful and focused. "but make sure you get a good picture of me," she replied. "I want to make sure I look good if I'm going to be emblazoned on your chest."

She didn't look at him as she sung. How could she? It was too quiet, too intimate. True, the song was about him and if he looked at her, he'd know. Dorian was not a stupid young man and if he found out, then what? What was she supposed to do? A few minutes ago, she'd been so close to kissing him. She felt it. It was like electricity. Maybe she was imagining it, maybe it was wishful thinking on her part but something was going on and she was terrified.

She smiled a little and nodding, her cheeks burning and she was thankful it was dimly lit. She could tell him, right? That the song was about him? It was just him and her and so when he got uncomfortable, no one else was around to see her suffer. Opening her mouth, the words died on her tongue and she forced herself to swallow.

The light show? "Oh," she stated, sounding a little bit dazed but nodding again quickly. "You can just let me know when you're free," she said cheerfully when really, she knew when and where. "Or, you know, maybe sometime next week?" She offered, looking up at him shyly from under her long dark lashes. "I have a couple of days off from this place and I'm meant to be studying but I'd much rather spend them with you." Shit. The words were out before she could stuff them back into her mouth.

She cleared her throat, hastily shoving everything into her bag and sliding her arms into her cardigan and hoisting her handbag back onto her shoulder. Eloise smiled at Dorian again. "It's not quite right," she finished for him, her big green eyes looking at his handsome face. She knew how it felt. And she felt bad. He'd upped and moved to London and she was planting seeds of doubt in his mind but honestly, the city wasn't right for him. She felt no regrets about telling him that.

When he offered to walk her home, her heart flipped in her chest. Oh man. She wanted that so so badly but after what had happened before, she couldn't risk it. She'd just gotten her best friend back. Every single fibre of her being was screaming at her to let Dori walk her back home. A moonlight stroll through the city of lights? Utterly perfect. Maybe she could invite him upstairs for a cup of coffee and --

"I'm just going to apparate home," the petite blonde said with a cheerful smile, thinking it was best for both of them. That being said, she lingered by the door, subconsciously trying to drag out the time with him. She crossed the distance and leant onto her tiptoes, kissing one of his cheeks before blushing again. "I'll see you around," she said with another smile, reaching for the door and closing it, tumbling out onto the street. "What?[/]" she hissed to herself, slamming her hand to her forehead as she groaned and began to walk, shaking her head quickly before practically sprinting down the worn cobbles and back to her apartment where she could forget this whole thing ever happened.

"I don't think you could ever take a bad picture," Dorian said with a smile. His mind went immediately to that small shoebox in the back of his closet somewhere with all those old photos of her on the Beauxbatons balcony. He should probably get rid of that, he thought, before someone happened across it and thought something of it. There was really no reason for him to keep it now was there?

Seeing the blush on her cheeks after she was finished singing and knowing that he was feeling just as awkward made him want to scream. Or break a plate. Or something to break up the tension. He hated feeling off-kilter with her, especially knowing how easy it had always been between them. It was hard moving forward when all he wanted to do was go back to the way it had been.. back before he had acted all stupid.

"Next week would be.. nice," Dorian replied with a soft smile, trying not to jump at her offer. Cause that would be lame. "How about I just send you a note after I check my work schedules?" There. That sounded nonchalant, casual. Not like an eager little puppy who wanted to follow her around everywhere.

He was disappointed when she said she would apparate home. He was hoping he would get even a few more minutes with her. But he tried not to show it and smiled and nodded, saying, "Yeah, that's a good idea. Especially if your feet are hurting you." When she came closer, he stilled. And when she kissed his cheek, his eyes fluttered close. It took him a few moments longer than it should for him to open them again and she was already at the door. He raised his hands and gave her a two-fingered wave as a goodbye with a faint smile. And then she was gone.

Dori stared at the doorway she had been in moments before for a few extra moments. He turned back to the bar and leaned his elbows on it, torn between laughing giddily and slapping a palm to his face. He was seeing her again next week.. could it be next week already?