Was it strange that Yvonne had been back to the same restaurant three times in the past month, alone? She was seriously hoping the waitresses didn't remember her; she even ordered something different each time to throw them off. Truthfully, she was waiting for someone, and not just anyone. Yvonne and John did not set a date, time, or place where they would meet up in the future, only they agreed that they would get together again. Was she wrong in hoping that one of these days might be their reunion? And because she wasn't sure where she would be meeting up with him, what better place then at Vintage? Yvonne enjoyed the French/Italian cuisine the establishment offered because for an hour or so it felt like she was back in Wizarding France having a meal. Pity the staff couldn't speak the language.
Yes, it was strange that she of all people was waiting for a man. Yvonne didn't wait for anyone. Her life was on her own schedule, and no one else's. That was why she couldn't understand how one man seemed to have this affect on her. Perhaps it was his age? Thirty-seven years of living had to stand for something, in her opinion. ‘Age was just a number’, that was what Yvonne’s father always told her. Now that she was no longer in contact with Pierre it seemed foolish to be taking his advice. The fact that John possessed the most soothing Irish accent and had the perfect amount of facial hair actually helped her Father's statement. The chances of him walking through the door were slim, Yvonne knew, but she refused to give up hope.
The blonde had come to Diagon Alley to do a bit of shopping at ‘Sealed With a Kiss’, the only store she had found in London that hit her dressing style right on the nose. Yvonne was picky when it came to her clothing choices. Generally price wasn't an issue, as long as she had enough sickles in her purse to buy it and make sure she could still afford to pay rent on her flat with the balance. How could she put a price tag on beauty? When she had finished shopping for the afternoon and was laden down with three heavy bags, Yvonne walked through the door of Vintage. Her eyes scanned the room for John as they always did, and then her stomach fell a bit when she didn't see him there. She didn't think it was a romantic attraction, so to speak, but there was something drawing her to him. Perhaps it was the need of a close friend in London.
Since Yvonne had moved to the bustling city she hadn't made too many friends, and not for lack of trying. Thankfully she met up with her old school mate Olivier, and the two had got together for coffee a few times since then. Other than that- she was spending most of her free time either home alone, or out enjoying the wizarding nightlife London had to offer, hoping to meet someone to spend a bit more time with. Yvonne thought of her old best friend, Marc St. Jean. She really did miss the man, but apparently he was married now and had a child of his own. They had both graduated from Beauxbatons at the same time and hadn't been in contact since. Yvonne’s life had taken a turn that even she didn't see coming. Marc had met someone and started his own life. It was bound to happen. Yvonne only wished he could be here with her in the big city now, and see how much fun life was on the other side of The Channel.
