[hecate] some nights. [tag; valentin]

Oh! Oh no. She was going to be sick.

What was even happening? Ruari had a date. With Valentin Kolesnikov. That was right. From Carpe Noctem. The chart topping rock band. She was going for drinks with a leather clad, bona fide sex god and she was going to pass out on the floor of her dinky little apartment. The details of which were a little fuzzy. Her cousin, Etain, had said that he'd been asking after her. Ruari didn't believe it for a second. She'd met Valentin before briefly when he came into her dress shop with his lovely little daughter and didn't think she would leave any kind of lasting impression.

But there she was. On a dark and cold December evening, in front of her bathroom mirror, twisting and pulling her long golden hair into a braided updo. Frowning at her reflection, Ruari looked pale. Rummaging in her make up back, she hastily brushed on a little bit of blusher and gave her full lips another slick of deeply red lipstick as she carefully adjusted the small red flowers in her hair.

Her dress was a masterpiece. Bright, cap sleeved and made from intricate patterned fabric, it was modestly cut and clung to her curves subtlety. It was form fitting and luxurious and so clingy, every curve, hipbone and shape was on show. But not in a tacky way. Skimming her willowy frame and coming down in a pencil skirt to her knee, she hoped there wasn't going to be any stairs.

The meeting place she was told was called Hecate. A new and vibrant bar and restaurant. It seems that he'd arranged it all through Etain. She hadn't heard from him so it seemed like she was taking a leap of faith. If Valentin didn't show, at least she was out of the house for once.

After more lipstick (and setting it with a spell she'd seen in Witch Weekly which promised "six hours of kiss proof colour"), she added one more coat of mascara, slipped on her coat and stepped outside into the frigid Dublin air. The tall blonde recoiled instantly, shoving her gloved hands into her pockets as she bowed her head against the icy wind and broke into a gentle jog to step into an alley way she often used for apparation.

In such a hurry to get inside, she didn't even notice the grand façade of the building before she hurried inside, letting the heavy door close behind her, only to be greeted by a smartly dressed man. "Oh," Ruari blushed as he asked if he could take her coat. Clumsily, she fumbled with her buttons before peeling it off and handing it to him with a smile. This place was fancy. Real fancy. She'd never been anywhere quite like it. The air was warm and smelt like oak. There was soft music and ambient chatter.

"Oh," she jumped as he coughed politely. "I'm here to meet --" Then she stopped. Valentin was global. Maybe he didn't want anyone to know he was here? "Er," she faltered. "Someone?" She squeaked with a shy smile. "You know, I'll just wait at the bar. Thank you for your help," she said kindly, twisting on her heels and letting her long bare legs carry her forward.

Oh goodness. It was really fancy. Dimly lit with rich furnishings, Ruari's jaw actually dropped open as she wandered to the bar to sit in a stool and a bar man was there almost instantly. When asked what she'd like, she paused. Honestly? She wanted an appletini really badly. "Could I just have a lime and soda, please?" The Dubliner asked with a smile, a lithe hand slipping into her purse to extract some coins which she promptly handed over.

"Thank you," she said with a broad grin as a tall glass arrived with a jet black straw and she promptly leant forward to take a sip of her fizzy green drink. Her stormy grey eyes were wide and sparkling as she looked around. It was full of smartly dressed, loved up couples and she felt a twinge of something in her chest. Her lime and soda, however, came swiftly out of her nose as she saw a tall, muscled figure enter the room. It was him. And he was wearing a suit. Her jaw practically hit the mahogany wood of the bar.

Valentin didn’t know what he was doing. Actually, he knew exactly what he was doing, and why he was doing it, but if you asked him to explain it in words, you’d get a few grunts and a shrug. It’d been a spur of the moment thing when he’d asked one of the young ladies about a relative of hers. Ruari Regan had been a beam of sunshine on an otherwise dreary day. He could admit to being drawn to her, but the thing that’d struck him was how nice she was. Valya hadn’t had many people who just wanted to be nice to him because of who he was, and not what he did. It was refreshing, and he found himself seeking that.

Today had been stressful, dealing with publicists and eager reporters trying to get their paws on pre-released copies of the album that was barely finished. Tour was starting soon, and then would be the international hop. Sima had seen more of the planet than Valya had at her age, and she was already excited. It wasn’t often that toddlers got to go to Greenland or the Americas. Apparently there was a Carpe Noctem cult following in the US? Go figure.

He’d taken two hours to himself, decompressing. He’d not wanted to spill any of his work related anxiety onto someone he’d met all of the once, because he wanted a good time. He just want t sit, eat , and enjoy good conversation. Ruari had already been proven to do that, and it’d take just a bit of artful maneuvering to make it so that their comfort level that;d been in her shop translated to the restaurant.

Hecate had been opened for centuries. After being all but destroyed during the second war with that You-Know-Who fellow, it’d reopened only a year later under a new head chef. The ambiance was the same, but the menu and the clientele had shot up. There was something about exclusivity that drew the attention, and Valentin valued the discretion. The staff of Hecate would never allow a photographer to climb into his booth and take the pictures that’d been spread across Witch Weekly last mouth. Sima had enjoyed watching her dad make her spoon into an imaginary spoon trying to get her to eat her macaroni, but she’d been the only one.

When Valentin finally arrived to the restaurant in the private apparation room, he smiled at one of the hostesses as she took his coat. Whisky smoked English rumbled in the small alcove as he thanked her, and he blinked confused, when she squeaked and darted away. Shrugging, he followed the other hostess into the pain dining room, before walking over to the bar. His suit gleamed dully under the mood lighting. He peered around curiously, before spotting blonde hair. A smile brightened his features, and he wove around someone, before sliding elegantly into the stool beside her. He crossed his legs at the ankle, peering down at her.

“You look lovely, Ruari…” He carefully pronounced her name, before beaming again. “I wasn’t sure if you were going to come…But I’m very glad you did. I hope I haven’t kept you waiting long.” His fingers grazed her arm as he leaned over to kiss her cheek, before sitting back down. “That was from Sima. She made me promise to give you a kiss.” He laughed and shook his head, smiling brightly. “How have you been?”

She'd never been  here before. Ruari used to go on a lot of dates but she'd never been anywhere quite as fancy as this. She usually ended up going to see a Muggle movie or bowling and the boys she saw were confused as to why she wasn't having fun. Bowling was fine but it wasn't really that romantic. Especially when she had little to no hand-eye co ordination and that turned bowling into a nightmare. Arms and balls flying everywhere.

It was dark and warm in here, the lighting low and it made her feel rather welcome. She'd brought her purse but she wasn't sure she'd be able to afford more than a drink and a starter. Childishly, she sucked her green coloured soft drink through a tall black straw as her eyes darted around. No one seemed to be paying her much notice. Everyone was dressed so stylishly and it made her long for her coat. She felt like her dress was too tight, too busy for this beautiful place. She hadn't seen the menu but she was sure it was too nice for her. Lately, she'd lived mainly off instant noodles and take away pizza.

Oh Lord have mercy.

The drink came out of her nose and she coughed, grabbing a napkin and hastily swallowing what was left in her mouth before trying to repair the damage done to her face. Valentin and cheekbones that could cut glass and her toes curled in pleasure in her black heels. A small part of her told her to play it cool but yeah, she was full of gawking. A rock star had asked her to have dinner with him. The realisation was hilarious and she pinched herself to make sure she was dreaming but the pain that followed ruled that one out.

Ruari instantly regretted her braids. Were the flowers too kiddie? She thought they were whimsical and romantic. Self consciously, she reached up and touched the ruby red tea cup rose that she'd pinned into her golden blonde hair and groaned. She offered him a wide, dimpled smile and flushed pink at the way he said her name. She hated her name. It was dumb but the way the letters rolled off his tongue made her stare at him. He made it sounds so…exotic and beautiful and lovely. Silently (and telepathically) she urged him to say it again. And again. Even better if he could scream it. The thought made her blush even harder and she coughed distractedly.

Her big grey eyes widened considerably. "Why wouldn't I come?" The Dubliner was quick to ask, frowning in confusion. She liked him. She barely knew him, she didn't know who he was at first and she'd never heard one of his songs but she enjoyed meeting him thoroughly. "Nope," she said, perhaps a little bit too quickly. She'd not been waiting too long. Not long at all. He was perfectly on time. Goose bumps rose on the flesh of her arms as Valentin grazed her skin, momentarily flooring her as she froze as he kissed her cheek. The action was soft and polite and as soon as a waft of air announced his departure, her insides pretty much melted and she offered him a goofy grin. Super suave.

"You look great," she said honestly, trying to resist the urge to stroke his suit and she offered him a genuine smile. "Really?" She asked, reaching up to touch the cheek he'd just kissed. "How is she?" She didn't know Sima very well but she was very well behaved and very sweet. "Did she like her dress?" Ruari asked, keenly. One of his "people" picked it up from her shop and she hadn't seen it since; she did hope it arrived in one piece. She'd wrapped it in pink ribbon and written the toddler a note. As well as including a little plastic tiara for free, as she'd been so taken with it the last time she saw her.

"Good," she said casually. "Busy. Christmas is always a killer," she sighed. "Hi," she said again to the bartender as she offered another smile. "Could I have a…whiskey, please?" She winced, looking over to Valentin for approval. She didn't know what he drank and she hoped by guessing whiskey, he wouldn't become offended at all. Her lime and soda had long been forgotten. "How have you been?" She asked with another smile. "I heard you're going on tour. That must be exciting." Yeah. She'd stalked him through various women's magazines since he'd left her shop and she wasn't even sorry. Absently, she stirred her drink, the ice cubes clinking musically against her glass. Was it hot in here or what? She was feeling rather toasty warm. Uh oh.

Once seated at their table, she opened the menu with wide eyes. "Oh wow," she sighed softly. "No one's ever taken me to somewhere quite so amazing before," she added, offering him a gentle, sad smile. "I've got no idea what to order. I don't even know what edamame is," she frowned. It sounded Asian and she liked Asian food. "But thank you for coming," she said brightly, offering him another smile. "I know you must be so busy. I must say, I was a bit surprised you even asked." Totally floored, really. The UK was full of bright, beautiful women. Women who were taller, slimmer, richer than she was. She hoped he didn't feel like he'd picked the booby prize.