riptide [kit]

Fabric clung to the body of Mila Mosquera - itchy, thin pieces of fabric that felt like they were ready to puncture little holes into her skin if she made the wrong move. There were only very few times the thirty eight year old wasn't happy with the clothes she wore, and unfortunately, this seemed to be one of them. While the dress she'd chosen was absolutely magnificent, and clung to her body in all of the right places, it wasn't comfortable. Her curves weren't over accentuated, but accentuated just enough that everyone would know they were there, and she didn't look anything other than professional.

Awards ceremonies weren't really Mila's thing, although she supposed she was sort of obligated to attend if she was winning one of the awards herself. Ceremonies of any sort were always stuffy and snooty, and full of people who probably didn't even care about whomever, or whatever, they were celebrating. That wasn't to say she didn't appreciate the award she was given - Mila was just disappointed she'd actually had to come and accept it, instead of having it delivered to her home.

Mila did her best to keep a smile on her face as she talked to yet another white haired, older man, who was congratulating her on not only her award, but her advances in the medical field. She wondered for a brief second, sipping on the room temperature champagne that she held in her hand, if he really actually knew what she did for a living. Mila herself hadn't really paid attention during the awards ceremony, and she didn't doubt that others in the crowd had started to find themselves daydreaming about being elsewhere. With a curt nod, Mila thanked the older man before he moved on and the next approached her, shaking her hand as he babbled on about how lovely she looked - as if she didn't know it already.

"If you'll excuse me - " She cut the older man off. "I really have to use the ladies room, so if you don't mind..." Mila gave the older guy a polite smile as she picked up the skirt of her dress, briskly walking in the direction of the door. Her head was tilted down, her eyes trained at the hem of her skirt to make sure she didn't step on it and trip over her own clothing. Mila hadn't even noticed when someone else had decided to step in front of her, causing her to collide with them at a great force. "Dìos mio," Mila mumbled, flinching slightly as she felt the champagne glass slip from her hand and fall to the floor. "Oh - for Merlin's sake - " She grumbled, bending down to pick up the pieces of broken glass. "You'll have to excuse me, I wasn't watching where I was going, and I - "

Mila finally looked to the person she'd bumped into, her features softening once she'd seen the familiar face. "Kit... I can honestly say I wasn't expecting to see you here."

Kit Emberton was completely, utterly, one hundred percent out of his comfort zone.

Award ceremonies had never really been the Healer's forte, to be fair, but the one he currently found himself in the middle of had to have been considered the worst. Black tie? The twenty-seven year old in navy blue dress pants and button down shirt (sans tie), found himself repeating the phrase with increased infuriation. There was no one in the world that could convince him that he was contractually obliged to dress like every other man in the room. Except, perhaps, the very woman that was on the stage in front of him.

Mila Mosquera.

Electric eyes were fixated on the anomaly of a being that danced around her acceptance speech with a level of grace and gratitude that was unrivaled by every person around him. In fact, as far as Kit was concerned there was no one else in the room. She was all that could see, and he wouldn't have had it any other way. The only reason he accepted his invitation was in the hopes of seeing her. Although he considered Mila a great friend, it had been quite some time since the two had seen each other on a professional level, and he found that it was just as conflicting for him as it had been for years.

After her speech, the evening dragged on, only slightly dulled by the whiskey that steadily filled Kit's goblet. Alcohol, he supposed, had to be the only reason people agreed to these things. A lifetime and a few glasses later, the ceremony ended, and the schmoozing began. And Kit thought it couldn't have gotten any worse. The Healer, who lacked real professional tact, was short with his peers who attempted small talk and industry chat. He didn't seem to notice the less than satisfactory reactions he garnered as his gaze followed Mila through the room.

At the first sight of his chance, Kit moved. It appeared that his mentor was in the same boat, avoiding the uncomfortable conversations that inevitably came with this sort of thing. Weaving through faceless black ties and dresses, the wizard soon found himself in front of the very person he had come to see.

"Mila," He called out, his hands gently taking the woman's shoulders in hands to stop her from walking right into him. "This is a ceremony for exceptional Healers," Kit tilted his head in thought, a small smirk tugging on his lips. "And my own mentor wasn't expecting to see me here?" He placed a hand on his chest in shock, before breaking into a full smile. "You were lovely," The man was quick to embrace his friend, his lips grazing the side of her cheek out of sheer habit. "Have you been well?" He spoke in her ear, wishing the noise around the two of them would disappear.

Wonderful.

A bit of the champagne had fallen onto the thirty eight year old's dress, leaving a small, slightly darker patch of blue on it's skirt. That would take ages to get out, if she didn't want to completely ruin the dress, and she didn't, of course. It'd been way to expensive to only wear once. But, that was beside the matter now.

Kit's eyes were just as bright as she'd recalled - the blue and green they contained were a perfect pairing, far better than the dull browns fixated in her eyes. His eyes were always one of his best physical qualities, in the witch's opinion. She was sure most of the women he kept in his company would agree with her as well, although she'd never be compelled to ask. Mila and Kit's relationship at the moment was strictly professional; there was honestly no need for her to go snooping around in his social life.

"Oh," Mila let her face fall into a smile. "You know what I mean. You're not - " Mila stopped herself, taking a deep breath and using the time to actually formulate what she was trying to say. "This isn't your thing." She finished. "The whole..." The Spanish woman waved her hand. "Whatever this is. Fancy, dress... whatever." Mila let out a short laugh as she stumbled over her words, shaking her head and pushing a stray piece of hair from her face. "Not that it doesn't suit you. You look good." Her hands finally fell to her sides, quickly finding the pockets that lay hidden in the folds of her long skirt.

"Thank you," The Spanish woman returned Kit's embrace, letting her eyes fall to the ground once the two had pulled apart. "Could you tell I was absolutely bored out of my mind up there? I almost forgot the last half of my speech because I was more focused on the paella waiting for me at home." Mila admitted, letting out a short laugh as she did so. "That would have been... awkward."

Mila leaned in slightly when Kit spoke in her ear, hoping it would help her hear Kit over the dull murmur of the older attendees' boring conversations. "I have!" She nodded. "Keeping busy, work, you know. Winning awards and such." Mila chewed on her bottom lip for a brief moment. "What about you? How've you been?" The Spaniard asked, her eyes fixating on a short, plump man behind Kit that wouldn't stop laughing. "Did you want to step outside real quick?" She questioned. "It's getting a bit stuffy in here."

It was impossible not to fixate on the woman's mouth as the words effortlessly floated from her lips. In fact, Kit Emberton's gaze never deviated from Mila throughout their entire encounter. As far as he knew her's was the only voice in the room -- everything and everyone else was background noise. A small smile unintentionally broke the healer's concentrated expression, his mentor's words echoing through his mental space. "You know me well," The wizard shrugged, his eyes breaking their contact with the brown ones before him to assess his less than standard dress code. "Y'know they nearly didn't let me in. Had to drop your name at the door," Kit grinned, his hand still resting on her shoulder comfortably.

"Bored?" Kit reached a hand to the unruly mop of hair he had attempted to tame with a small bun, thinking she couldn't possibly be serious. "You were..." He paused, unable to find an appropriate word to describe her. "Not boring at all," Kit begrudgingly settled with, although the whiskey in his system had other adjectives in mind. Professional. Be professional. He reminded himself with a uncomfortable clearing of his throat.

Before he could answer her question, Mila had suggested they step outside and Kit was eager to oblige. "Yes," He simply stated, his gaze traveling the ballroom for an easy way out, an exit from the chaos that they found themselves right in the middle of. If he recalled, there was a rooftop terrace just behind the main bar that would suit the duo perfectly. "Here," The twenty-seven year old didn't hesitate to take the lead, carving a path through the crowd, his hand never leaving the woman's back.

It wasn't long before they had stepped outside and into sanity. It seemed that no one wanted to be outside despite the mild weather and virtually empty bar. "Can I get you something?" Kit asked as he took in their surroundings. The terrace overlooked London, the far-away streets appearing vacant from so high up. "If I recall... Malbec?" Kit couldn't help but smirk. It had been years since the two of them spent an evening together that wasn't entirely dedicated to work.

"Maybe you should've added a tie?" Mila suggested, her hand coming up momentarily to press the collar on his shirt down before it was back at her side. "They're a bunch of pretentious pricks here, if I'm being completely honest." The Spanish woman raised her eyebrows before she let out a short laugh. She never really liked attending anything formal she'd been invited to, but she knew it was better for her reputation in the end. After all, the more she presented herself to the public, the more Mila's name was known. That seemed to be the only perk of these things, really.

Mila was more than happy when Kit had started to lead them through the crowd, her eyes not straying from their destination, even for a second. The old men in the room were ruthless - she'd known that if she'd looked over at one of them, they'd probably interrupt the pair's escape. Even though Mila loved the sentiment behind an empty congratulations, she'd rather avoid them for now.

"Oh," The healer paused, taking a deep breath. She hadn't really planned on drinking anything more than the room temperature champagne (which she was almost sure was also diluted), but the more the thought of the French wine Kit had mentioned, the more she craved it. "That would actually be wonderful. I think it's been awhile since I've had it, actually." Mila mused, her eyes scanning the view that laid before them. It was rather beautiful, she thought. It made her miss the nights she'd stayed out late doing practically nothing, although it was only for a second.

Taking another deep breath, Mila turned back to her former student, putting on a smile. "Anyways, I didn't hear you earlier - did you say how you'd been?" She questioned. "It's been awhile since we've actually had a chat. I hope you've been well?"

The distant familiarity of the woman's fingers near the vicinity of his neck was enough to send a shiver up and down the man's spine. Kit, intently focused on keeping a straight face, gave a small smile in return to Mila's comment on his choice of attire. "I've never been one for formalities, you know that," The wry grin that tugged on his lip quickly morphed into something far more mischievous than he had intended for a conversation of such a surface nature.

Moments later, after retrieving their drinks, Kit found himself leading Mila again -- this time to a high top table on the edge of the terrace. As far as he was concerned, the more distance he could put between them and the train wreck that was indoors, the better. "It's been ages," The Healer agreed sagely, his eyes shooting to the sky to recall the last time the two of them had seen eachother. "Centaur protest in Prague?" His gaze snapped back down to her own for validation.

"I've been great. Busy... great," An olive tanned hand clad in rope bracelets and eclectic rings ran through messy tufts of hair as he fought between the two descriptions of his life at the moment. "The practice has been slammed, thanks to your referrals," He clicked his wine glass against her own in an impromptu cheers. "Did I tell you I've taken on a student-healer?" Kit suddenly remembered a big change in his life. Echo Heavensby. His pain-in-the-ass live in student. "Can you believe someone's trusting my judgement now?" Kit laughed out loud to himself.

"How did you do it, Miss prestigious Healer of the year? I can't help but feel like I'm leading her astray. My advice isn't the most... professional," The twenty-seven found himself leaning in to the conversation and consequently closer to Mila. There was something about the woman that he couldn't keep himself distanced from.

"Prauge," Mila's eyes widened in surprised as she realized that her younger colleague was right. "Wow, yeah," She nodded. It seemed like it'd been a while, although she didn't know if that was because a large amount of time had passed, or because she'd missed the presence of Kit. It could have really gone either way - she liked it when he was around. For some reason, his aura was rather calming to the thirty eight year old.

The witch couldn't help but form a smile at his next comments, her eyebrows raising as she clinked her glass against his own. "Well, you're welcome. I can't take everyone on all the time - and who better to refer them to than the second best beast healer in the wizarding world?" Mila questioned, before taking a sip of her wine. "A student-healer?" Thin eyebrows raised for the second time, almost in surprise. He was rather young to be mentoring a student, but then again, Mila herself was only two (or was it three?) years older when she'd started mentoring Kit. "Student-healers are rather..." Mila paused, her lips pursing for a second. "They're handfuls aren't they?" She joked, giving a wide smile to the man standing in front of her.

"And mine was?" The Spanish woman asked, letting out a short laugh when she was done. "Trust me... it comes with time. When I started teaching, I was always worried that I was just preaching nonsense. It's like..." Another pause ensued when she tried to think of an appropriate metaphor for the situation. "It's like writing a thesis that you think is complete bullshit, but turning it and and getting the best grade in the class. You didn't really know what you were doing when you were writing it, but it somehow all came together in the end anyways." Mila shrugged. "I mean - you turned out fine, didn't you? All... superhero-y and whatnot. Saving lives and clipping feathers."

"Anyways," Mila met Kit's eyes. "It's really good to see you again, honestly." She placed a hand on his arm for only a second before pulling it away, re-placing it at her side.

The Healer's gaze flickered consistently from Mila's mouth to her eyes, reveling in the familiarity of their banter. "You seem surprised, Professor Mosquera?" He eyes narrowed from behind the glass of wine that was raised carefully to his lips, his eyebrow raised inquisitively. "This ones a handful," Kit took a sit, his head shaking slowly back and forth. "You know I would have done whatever you said," He added without thinking, as he so frequently did, the implications of his words only sinking in after they had entered the atmosphere.

Thankful for the change of pace in conversation, the twenty-seven year old busied himself with swigs of his wine before nearly choking on the liquid. "Super.. hero?" Kit repeated, shifting in his seat as he muffled his coughs. If there were something that the man never thought anyone would attribute him to, it was being a super hero. Apart from his complete disagreement, Kit felt a pang of pride in his chest at his mentors compliment, his face flushing an unfamiliar shade of pink.

"I wouldn't go that far now," He argued after stabilizing his breath. "Clipping feathers is hardly ground breaking, but I'm trying," Kit began to explain, his attention moving to the gala that was still bustling next to them. "Attending galas, wearing ties, networking..." He flippantly waved a hand in the air as if to dismiss his words. "Changing the world," He smirked, knowing fully that Mila would understand his sense of humor.

A hand on his forearm brought Kit back down to earth, in the middle of the London rooftop terrace that he found himself on. "It's great to see you," He mirrored with an amount of honesty that could be felt as much as it could be heard. As quickly as Mila's touch had appeared, it was gone, and Kit inevitably found himself craving more.

"Let's get out of this place," He suddenly spoke, very certain in his statement. "Where would you like to go? If you could choose anywhere to be in this very moment, where would it be?" He leaned into the conversation excitedly.

Mila almost wanted to laugh when Kit choked on his wine, with a smile spreading across her lips and a snicker threatening to make it's way out of her mouth. The thirty eight year old covered her lips with her free hand, stopping any sort of thing from happening. It's not funny to laugh at people choking, she reminded herself. Even if it does look funny. "Super hero," She nodded, moving her hand back down to her side. "Clipping feathers might not be ground breaking, but you're definitely helping those that have them." Mila reminded her younger colleague. She remembered the day she'd met Rajani, a half-Keres client of hers and Kit's. She was in absolute pain, Mila could see it. "Things like that can get pretty uncomfortable."

"Oh, don't you know?" Mila's voice was more than sarcastic, her eyebrows raising in mock surprise as her hand came up to lay on her chest. "Networking is the only way to save lives now. For every man with white hair you talk to, one patient in St. Mungo's gets better." She told him. This time, she laughed, a short and sweet laugh that only lasted a few seconds. "Completely changing the world."

The laugh on her face never faded; Kit's genuine words caused the grin on her face to grow bigger, if even possible, the slight dimples in the sides of her cheeks showing as she'd looked at the ground. She could have almost sworn she felt her cheeks turn red, although she couldn't actually tell.

Kit's next words surprised Mila, causing her to look back up at the taller man. Eyes wide, Mila looked around the terrace they stood on, struggling to speak. "I... I have to stay here - I can't just leave," She sputtered, shaking her head slightly as she looked back up to him. "I can't..." The Healer trailed off, her eyes gazing just past his side. Why? Why couldn't she leave? She asked herself, chewing on her lip. There was really nothing keeping Mila from leaving - she'd been gone from the main area for who knows how long, and nobody had even come looking for her. She wasn't needed here, even if she had won some prestigious award.

"Tahiti." She answered, her own eyes meeting Kit's as she spoke with confidence. The woman broke into another smile after that, letting out a short laugh. "But we can't go to Tahiti..."

There was a unique ease that ebbed and flowed between the duo as they traded banter across the table, eyes illuminated by the flicker of live fire strategically floating throughout the terrace. Much like the burnt orange of his normally cerulean eyes, Kit's chest felt as though it was filled with a flame. Perhaps it was the warmth of the charms but he was willing to bet that it had more to do with the woman opposite him who was currently rebutting his sardonic comment with one of her own. He hadn't even noticed that a faint smile had been painted across his now softened features, showing no sign of disappearing anytime soon.

"And for every inspirational acceptance speech?" Kit spoke up through his grin. "I reckon that's about ten lives saved," He shrugged his shoulders to her encouragingly. Of course, they both knew the benefit of the very things that they were criticising, but they also shared a more action driven approach to change. "It's no wonder I haven't been seeing you around the circuit then," Kit commented cooly about how he hadn't run into her at any demonstrations or protests as of late.

Kit's features that had only just been drenched in excitement dropped as Mila had continued her response. Of course they couldn't actually leave the event - the thing was practically thrown solely for her - but that didn't make the idea any less appealing. If anything it only tempted it further. As the reality of the fantasy hit him, the grin he once had shifted to a faint, almost nostalgic smile. Their intertwinements had never been simple, but they had become decidedly less as they got older.

"You're right," He agreed, his voice only giving away the smallest hint of his sadness with the conclusion. "You've got plenty of white haired men to talk to... those lives won't save themselves," The Healer referenced their joke, eyes darting across the rooftop suspiciously, as if protecting their secrets of their conversation, perhaps out of habit.

"Tahiti, though?" Kit hummed in thought, eyes closing briefly as he imagined the scenery. He hadn't been there in years but the imagery was not difficult to conjure up. A particular picture of Mila sprawled across a sun drenched hammock flashed briefly through his consciousness, but he quickly pushed it away. "I wouldn't complain," He began. "All day in the water," Kit dropped his chin to the palm of his hand and smiled lazily up at her. The wine paired with his active imagination had left him more relaxed than he expected of the night. "Evening on the shore with a nice bottle and some local herbs," He raised an eyebrow suggestively.

Just then, he noticed the music seeping quietly around them, moving as though it was coming from the very air itself. It was a muggle song that he recognised - slow and bluesy. It made him feel more romantic than he cared to admit. He stood up straight and offered his hand to Mila with confidence. No one around them was dancing, but that was the very last thing he was worried about. As far as he could see, they were the only ones on the terrace.