[madrid] got me writing love songs [oliver]

april 2001

It was a hodgepodge of clothes that made up her outfit; normally, she would have opted for a nice short skirt, maybe something low cut, but her main motivation in dressing for this evening had been fairly simple: the more clothes she had on, the harder it would be to shed said clothing, which would hopefully help her suppress the urge to do that altogether. But just in case, she had put on some rather nice lingerie underneath it all. For no particular reason, of course. Her secondary motivation for her outfit was that she didn't want to give Oliver the satisfaction that she had put in any effort more than necessary for their evening together. Last to all these motivations was dressing for the weather, which was on the chillier side for April in Madrid.

Quinn would never admit, at least to anyone actually important, that she had been waiting for this. She had been replaying their night together over and over in her mind, coming to the conclusion that she clearly had too much time on her hands and leading her to put more time and effort into her training. But as hard as she try, the woman couldn't stop thinking about him and actually wanting to spend time with him, if only to see if she continued feeling this way about him when she wasn't full to the brim with alcohol. So when he had finally suggested they get a drink, she had to keep herself from responding to his letter immediately even though she was completely free of any prior commitments.

She had to congratulate herself on her brilliant idea to change the location, though, as she knew that having him at her house, even if he was only there to pick her up, would be far too tempting. He would be too close to her, to her couch, just steps away from her bed.. and these were all things she wanted to avoid. So she had picked Madrid. It was far enough away from England to be private, but close enough to hopefully not make it seem like she wanted nothing more than to get away with him. Plus, she was fluent in Spanish, speaking the language almost as often as English, and she figured that if Oliver did know a second language, it was probably something dumb. Like Scots.

Quinn had no idea what she wanted to do here, only that she was not going to be drinking, not for the training reasons she had told him, but mainly to keep her wits about her. Training was merely secondary to not giving Oliver the advantage on whatever this evening would turn out to be by having impaired judgement. So she was standing by the fountain she had mentioned in her reply letter, hands in her coat pockets, at two minutes to seven. The clock in the plaza was chiming seven soon enough, and almost immediately did she spot Oliver in the crowd. She should give him credit for being prompt, but she wasn't about to go that far. The seeker averted her gaze from him, turning to hopefully look like she was studying the architecture of the fountain, not wanting to give him any clue that she had spotted him before he could see her.

@Oliver Wood

They had technically agreed that they weren’t going to see each other anymore, but that had obviously backfired miserably, not that the brunette wizard was going to complain about that fact in particular. What was going to be interesting was how long they could manage to keep their ‘relationship’ or whatever it was under wraps without anyone that they didn’t want knowing (so, essentially everyone) knowing. Oliver had no problem owning up to the fact that he wasn’t as famous as Krum, but he knew that the wizarding press had a penchant for gossip and drama, no matter who it involved. Madrid was a smart choice on her part, though, he had to admit. Classy, but also safe in terms of avoiding people.

Part of him had wanted to throw on one of his jerseys, maybe even one from his days on the Gryffindor house team, just to mess with Quinn. But instead he’d decide to go with a nice-er t-shirt, a jacket, jeans, and a nice pair of shoes. It wasn’t anything spectacular, but he knew it was cleaner and sharper than his usual choice in attire, and he might’ve still felt like dressing to impress just a bit. He had made a point of being on time this time, too. He didn’t want to give Quinn something to nag him about before their date had even started. It didn’t take the wizard long to spot her, either, he wasn’t sure if she had seen him yet though, and decided to do his best to surprise her.

He let himself slip back into the crowd, hoping that if she had seen him, she’d lose him again, as he tried to sneak up behind her as he goosed her side, grinning at her boyishly, before kissing her soundly “Hi”. Breaking away, Oliver took a moment to survey the square, the fountain had been a nice touch, or, Madrid had been a good choice on her part for sure. He took a moment to look her over from head to toe, in hopes of irritating her some before he spoke again, “Hmm. I dunno which is better looking, you or the square” he teased her lightly “So, where are we off to this time?”

Quinn wasn't sure what sort of greeting she was expecting, but it was certainly not the one she received. True to her attempt to pretend she hadn't noticed him, she was caught completely off guard when he snuck up on her. She twisted around to get a better look at him, immediately wanting to slap that smug grin off his face, settling instead for giving his arm a slap instead. "Ya little shit," she returned his grin, forgiving him as soon as his lips met hers. That was more of the greeting she was expecting, even if he had taken his precious time to return her letters, to suggest they see each other, to get any sort of hint.

He took his time before saying anything, and he wasn't trying to be sneaky about checking her out. The woman rested a hand on her hip, her lips pursed and an eyebrow raised. "Oh really?" She straightened up, rolling her shoulders back, if only to help improve her posture and definitely not just to enhance his view. "Me," she said with a smirk. "Definitely me." She could have put even less effort into her look and still be a better catch than this plaza. "But I'll accept your compliment anyway."

She let her gaze finally leave his face, trying to be as obvious as he was about letting it fall down his body, bringing it back up slowly to make eye contact again. She just smirked again, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she appreciated him cleaning up. Still, it might have been easier to make up her mind about this whole situation if he had looked like a slob, and she found herself suddenly blaming him for actually putting effort into the evening.

"I was told I owe you a drink?" Quinn shrugged, somewhat taken aback that he didn't want to just go snog on a park bench or something of the sort. "Someone told me that you won something?" She wasn't going to make this too easy for him, not after he stayed very true to his word about them not talking or seeing each other. "Other than that, I'm pretty sure you're the one who wanted to meet tonight." Pretty sure as in 'absolutely sure'. She was also pretty sure that she had been offered dinner, but he could probably only handle one plan at a time.

Getting a better look at him, Quinn immediately regretted her decision to agree to or suggest or even want to see him again. This was a terrible idea. But just like their first date, she was determined to not quit first. She was leaning in to him before she knew what she was doing, wanting to get her upper hand on the date back, only to change her mind at the last possible second. She pulled back before her lips made contact with his, her hands quickly finding their way back into her coat pockets. Straightening up, Quinn tilted her head towards her right. "There's a cafe over there."