i'm not sorry for anything [poesy]

It had been a shitty fucking day.

Torr slammed his hands down on the countertop so hard they stung, but he welcomed the pain as it bit into his palms as he leaned over his workbench, hanging his head for a moment as he exhaled roughly. Irritation and impatience swam through him as sweat trickled down his back  courtesy of the numerous fires burring at varying temperatures under cauldrons, some bubbling, some burping intermittently. Torr Regan had finally fired the little chit who worked in the front for him, after she had annoyed him one too many times, and it had been two weeks since she had left the shop in tears.

Since then, he had come to his senses (reluctantly) and put an ad in the Potioneers Journal about looking for an assistant. It had been Nessa's idea, but Torr was not inclined to admit that he was actually talking her advice. Well, her 'advice' had sounded more like beratement as she had called his workroom a 'disaster' and told him he needed to straighten it up because he 'obviously' needed the help. He had glared her out of the shop with a dark look, but the idea slowly grown on him. Too bad all the candidates who had shown up were annoying as shit. He had sent the first three packing before they had even finished their little introductions, their elevator pitches, with their credentials and their resumes. He would rather have Carrick in here helping him than that lot and that was saying something.

Still, he was drowning in work. And it wasn't getting any better anytime soon. He eyed his stack of orders with flared nostrils. Fucking work, he needed a few days off. Maybe Red would portkey to Mykonos with him. He needed to let off some steam. He walked to the front only to hear the door swing open. His gaze slid to a blonde in his shop and he perked his brows. "Can I help you," he said, and not in the same way that his overly cheery assistant had greeted people in. His more said 'what the hell do you want' rather than 'how can I help you'.

@Poesy Darling

She hadn't been to Dublin before but she liked the accent and everyone seemed pretty friendly. Poesy had already ended up lost twice but after some cheery yet vague directions (she didn't know what keep going until you see the tree with the broken branch, then go right actually meant because she'd seen two of those) she ended up here and she stepped in, her eyes adjusting to the change in lighting.

It was quiet as Poesy stepped in, her eyes darting around as she scratched her nose, anxiously adjusting her jumper as she was drawn to the various little vials on the shelves. She'd spotted a few cobwebs but she was unperturbed. Bent at the waist, she surveyed the bottles, reading the labels before she delicately picked one up, a pale lavender with little sparkly specks in it. Suddenly, she heard a bang! from somewhere and she straightened up, shoving the bottle back onto the shelf as she backtracked, like she'd been caught stealing sweets.

The man himself came to the front of the shop and she smiled. Poesy hadn't met Torrence before, despite working in the same circles for a while but she'd heard rumours. A wild temper, worked well under pressure, a bit of a ladies' man. A friend of hers had called him the bad boy of potions, but Poesy suspected that was just because he hadn't asked her on a second date.

"Yes, hi," the petite blonde said with a big smile as she stepped forward. "My name's Poesy. I've come about the ad?" She asked him as she unfolded the newspaper clipping to show him that she wasn't a weirdo before she extended her hand out to him, unbothered by his apparent lack of interest.

"Nice place," she said in awe as she gestured to her new surroundings before she reached into her bag and extracted a slim file that contained all of her achievements and anything else she thought Torrence may need to know. She smiled at him expectantly. "Shall we get started?" She offered.

Torr looked over the small blonde who stood in his shop and couldn't help but think that she looked vaguely familiar.

He couldn't place her name or face though. He had to wonder if he had slept with her at some point, a hazard given his reputation and predilection toward one night stands. Then again, she wasn't his usual type, he thought, as his eyes flicked up and down, taking her in briefly. There was something in her eyes that reminded him of his younger sister Gianna, or perhaps in the way she spoke. Or maybe in the way she innocently assumed she was starting the job. He wasn't sure if he was annoyed or amused. The same way Gia made him feel.

Torr crossed his arms in front of him, not even bothering to look at the newspaper she offered him. "Why would someone like you want to work here," he asked, his gaze calculating, measuring as he noticed the file in her hands and couldn't have had less interest in it. He was much more interested in her reason and motivations for wanting this assistant job when he was sure she could work at somewhere with more prestige and pristine reputation.. and a hell of a lot cleaner, he noted with a glance toward a layer of dust on one of the shelves.

Torrence hadn't shaken her hand and she left it hanging in the air for a second before dropping it to her side, unperturbed. Swiftly, she folded the newspaper and slipped it back into her pocket, her smile still present. She was used to this sort of thing - because she was young, because she was a woman, because she was nice - but she lived by the motto of kill them with kindness.

That being said, Poesy was surprised by his question. She frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?" She countered, unsure whether his tone was curious or derogatory. She blinked. "I'm working towards my Gold Cauldron," she answered. "You'd know that if you read my file," she added serenely as she held it up before dropping it onto a nearby desk.

"You have resources I need," Poesy stated candidly as she looked around, distracted by the various bottles stretching up to the ceiling. It sounded selfish but she'd wanted to be honest. She could be saccharine sweet and say that working with him would be an "honour" and that she was willing to work late (both were true) but there was something about him. "I can't get what I need as easily," she went on, head tilted. Torrence had a far-reaching family. In the Ministry, the government, potions, poisons and everything in between. He could hold the key to her future.

"You look like you need some help," she said lightly. Torrence looked haggard but she wasn't going to ask why. The place was dusty and seemingly disorganised and her fingers itched to do something about it. "I'm on the verge of something groundbreaking," she added vaguely and smiled. "Like it or not but I could be exactly what you need," Poesy announced as she took a step back, hands on her hips. She'd already made a deal with the Devil with Reed, so she may as well make another with one of his associates. "You scratch my back, I scratch yours."

He almost grinned when she frowned up at him and he simply shrugged. This wasn't a question for a question type of thing. He wanted to know why. Torr's brows flickered the faintest movement upward as she mentioned her Gold Cauldron. She didn't seemed like someone who have even made her Bronze yet. Interesting. He narrowed her eyes at the file she dropped and didn't bother with it. He wasn't a paperwork type of guy. He wanted to know the person, especially if he thought he might have to be dealing with them day in and day out.

The honesty she gave him surprised him and he cocked his head as he leaned against the counter, his arms folded in front of him as he tracked her with his eyes as she looked about his shop like she were already planning what she would do first. "And what is it that you need?" he asked before his curious look turned into a glare. He didn't fucking need help, he thought petulantly, even though he had put the ad in, even though it was the exact opposite of what he needed.

But the way she stood with her hands on her hips, the way she was willing to enter the lion's den. She was like steel wrapped in sugary sweetness and Torr only scoffed a laugh at her. "Groundbreaking?" he repeated, bemused, his mood changing on a dime. "I don't know about all that," he added with a shake of his head, not believing her for a second, but perhaps.. perhaps this could work.

He stood to his full height and nodded toward the back. "Follow me, whiz kid," he said over his shoulder as he walked into his workshop at the back for the store where several cauldrons of potions burbled and bubbled. He eyed each one before his gaze slid to hers. "Identify three of the five and you might get the job," he told her. Hell, he might even be impressed if she got one, but he always like to challenge people. And this little blonde, he thought, might just be up to snuff.

"Money," she told Torrence plainly. "Extra hands. Resources that might be hard to come by. A space of my own," she shrugged, deciding honesty was the best policy. Poesy didn't want to sugarcoat things and give him a load of fluff. Sure, she was polite and hard working but things weren't happening quickly enough for her. She'd tried branching out on her own but she was getting stuck. Something told her that Torrence had a temper, so it was better that they be honest now than get into a blazing row later.

Torrence laughed and she frowned - why did everyone laugh? Poesy exhaled through her nose sharply, a nettling sensation of annoyance creeping up her spine. Her bright eyes surveyed him, from his messy hair to his tattoos to the light sheen of sweat. "Trust me," she informed him coolly. "You'll want what I'm working on." A stamina potion, one that could let people push themselves to the extremes and be able to go further. Think of how many women he could juggle.

Torrence was moving away and she followed him quickly, breaking into a light jog to keep up. "Whizz kid," she echoed in a soft whisper, free to roll her eyes now that his back was turned. It was dark in here and Poesy's eyes took a moment to adjust. Bottles, vials, boxes piled high. To Poesy, it was the very definition of "organised chaos" and she was distracted. It was warm back here and without asking, she shrugged off her jacket and hung it on a hook in the wall.

Three out of five, he'd said, and she arched her eyebrows. "Small margin of error," she added gamely as she walked up to one of the benches, her pale fingers running through some roughly chopped herbs in passing.

"Left to right?" Poesy asked before doing just that. She leaned over a cauldron that was bubbling merrily, her fingers picking up a spoon and stirring it anti-clockwise. It was thick and resistant. She moved to the next one, a larger cauldron, the potion inside frothing. The next was a much smaller one, a teal colour and beautiful. She dipped her head to sniff it. The fourth was simmering as she looked at the heat below it, making a note to see that it was a low flame before her attention came to the last one. A dark plum coloured liquid, thick and viscous with an odd sheen.

"Blood replenishing," Poesy announced, pointing to the first one. "Exstimulo," she went on as she moved to the third cauldron. Double checking, she leaned over it and grinned. "Definitely Dreamless Sleep," she told Torrence smugly. "Jawbind," she said as she nodded at the fourth before coming to a stop at the final one. She took her time as she walked around it, the colour both mesmerising and unusual. "Baneberry Potion," Poesy finally guessed, her eyes sliding to Torrence with an eyebrow raised. "Why are you brewing Baneberry Potion?"

Her honesty surprised him. It wasn't common for someone to be that plain about what they wanted, but it spoke to him. He liked the no bullshit way she had, even if it did irk him a bit. A space of her own? "This is my shop," he told her curtly, no room for discussion. "This is not a play place and I'm not into babysitting." Then again, she seemed confident about her 'groundbreaking' potion. The idea really did amuse him. Next time he saw Ness he was going to have to remember to tell this anecdote about the little blonde who thought she was going to change the world.

Torr didn't give her any credit for following him and at least attempting his test. Small margin of error? "Even a Bronze would be able to do it," he lied glibly, hoping she would understand the dig. It was actually a challenge because many of the potions he was brewing weren't your standard run of the mill, and one was of his own creation so it wasn't in any textbooks or research journals. He didn't fight the smirk on his face as she went down the bench, watching her closely as she analyzed each one. "Don't get too close to that one," he called lowly as she got too close to the one cauldron, not liking how close she was to his work, still wary that she would ruin his effort with just a glance.

He gave her a steady look before he glanced back at the potions in a dismissive look. "Only three right, thought you'd do better than that," he told her in an easy lie. She had actually gotten four correct, and the only one that she had gotten wrong was the potion he had created so it wasn't surprising, but there was no need to stoke her ego even more. "You do understand that working here requires discretion," he told her with a raised brow, not even pretending that he was going to ask such a question. If she thought Baneberry was bad, she was probably going to run screaming from his shop. "The pay is terrible," he added plainly. He wasn't going to mince words about this job that he didn't really want to hire anyone for anyway.

Poesy blinked in mild surprise. She didn't know why he'd advertise for a job that he didn't want to hire anyone for. He must have a high turnover of staff and she wasn't sure she liked that. "Do I look like a toddler?" She asked Torrence petulantly, acting like a spoiled one before she frowned. "I share a lab with four other people," she explained. "This place seems quiet," she gave it a cursory glance. "I'd be happy to work in a corner somewhere, out of the way. Miles away from you," she muttered lowly under her breath.

Maybe this was his way of getting her to quit before she'd started but little did he know, Poesy was about as stubborn as they came. Still, she snorted with laughter, glancing at him swiftly. He did seem very young to have the qualifications that he did. Attaining her Gold Cauldron before the time she was thirty was nothing but a pipedream but --

She was told to back off and despite wanting to be rude and sticking her finger in it, she did as Torrence warned before her eyes widened. He said she'd gotten three right. In the dim light of the workshop, Poesy stewed as she sucked on her front teeth. There was something about him that she didn't like - his arrogance or his ego - but he was undeniably brilliant. It was just a shame he was a bit of a dick.

"I still passed your test, though," the petite blonde reminded him with a megawatt, sunny smile as she straightened up, hands on her hips but she arched an eyebrow quickly. "Discretion," she echoed Torrence's words. That only meant one thing - he was into some sketchy stuff.

Realistically, who was she going to tell? Poesy had very few friends, she wasn't close with her family and she was in the early stages of things with Hunter, she couldn't possibly spill the beans. Rather than answering, she simply made the motion of locking her lips and tossing the key over her left shoulder. "Do you need me to sign something?" She asked with a smile that verged on sarcastic before she casually shrugged.

"I'm not in it for the money," Poesy responded to Torrence easily. He couldn't dissuade her. The only thing that might make her less keen to start would be if he said there were lots of goats here. The mere thought of the little animals made her stomach turn. "So!" She said briskly as she clapped her hands together. "Do I need to complete a trial first or --?"

"What was that?" Torr asked, his brows flying up. She had mumbled, but he could have sworn she had said she wanted to work 'miles away from him.' The thought made him smirk, amusement cutting through the irritation he had been feeling moments ago. And he wasn't sure why but it made him think of Red. He wondered if she might be jealous of him working with this little blonde, accuse him of hitting on her like she did with that waitress, and it only made it funnier that this girl thought herself above his charms. He tried not to take it as a challenge.

I still passed your test, though. Torr made a doubting hum sound and cocked his head as he moved around the workroom, shuffling a few bottles of ingredients back onto a shelf, charming vials to wash themselves in the deep sink in the corner. "We agreed you had to get four right," he said in a blatant lie, just because he wanted to push her. "Plus, getting the job was never a guarantee," he added over his shoulder as he levitated a stack of texts further down his workbench, focused more on cleaning up the shop than on her. Perhaps he would magic her right out of the room next to clean up the rest of the riffraff.

Torr glanced back at her as she asked about signing something and there was something there in her look that he didn't like. He stared her down, straightening as he took a step closer and then another, coming closer than polite just because he liked to put people on edge. "Is that funny to you? I'm not sure why you think I would risk my business on a little blonde who has her head up in the clouds."

"Nothing," Poesy answered briskly with a sunny smile, clasping her hands in front of her as she rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet innocently. Her eyes strayed. There was a lot of dust and there were cobwebs high up in the corners of the ceiling. It looked like organised chaos and this man seemed to be the archetypal evil genius.

"I do believe we did not," she answered Torrence swiftly, a frown on her face as her eyebrows furrowed. The longer she stood here, suffering from a character assassination, the less she wanted the job. But Poesy knew his type. He desperately needed help, he just refused to ask for it. "Three out of four ain't bad," she tacked on with a smile before allowing herself to roll her eyes when his back was turned.

"Realistically," she began gently. "I'm the best you're going to get," Poesy went on. She was here to help, not make waves. Sure, her motivation for the job was purely selfish. The potioneer wanted to propel herself, using tools and opportunities that were at her fingertips. Torrence was connected, she wanted his contacts. Torrence had a workspace, she wanted to use it. Ingredients, rare texts, she wanted them at her disposal.

But suddenly, he was in her space and her eyes widened. Her first instinct was to back off but her feet were stuck to the floor. A little blonde who has her head up in the clouds.

"I have nine N.E.W.T levels," Poesy went on, transfixed in fear. "I'm a member of the Potions Guild," she went on, her bright eyes flicking over his much darker ones as her breathing was short and her heart racing. "I'm working on attaining my Gold Cauldron. I can speak three languages," Poesy concluded. "The real reason you don't want me is because you think you can manage." Her cheeks were pink and her nerves were jangling. "You can't. You need me." She glared at him. "And don't ever assume I can't do anything because I'm a woman," she whispered, her voice taking on a steely edge. "I can outperform anyone put in front of me and you bloody well know it."

The best he was going to get? Torr smiled at her lasciviously, more out of habit than anything else. "I've had better, love," he said, purposefully twisting her words into something else.

But as he got closer, he saw that familiar look in her eyes. Fear. And it made him smug and smirk at her even as she started rambling. Her list of achievements was something he could have read in her file, all the same bullshit the other candidates had said to him to promptly before he had kicked them out for being so pretentious. But the second part of her little speech, the part that had his brows lifting further up his forehead, made him cock his head to the side, hearing a thread of steel in her voice even as she glared up at him.

She was quiet but solid. He was a bit surprised. Torr looked at her for a moment longer and then his smirk turned into more of a crooked smile. "Guess we'll see if you can snuff it," he told her as he turned on his heel and peered into the cauldron he had been babysitting all day. "Be here tomorrow, don't even think about showing up before 11," he warned without a glance in her direction, already dismissing her.

/end

Poesy's pretty face contorted as she let out a very unladylike snort. "Oh, come off it," she rolled her eyes as she pretended to gag. This was a strictly professional endeavour and besides, he clearly was not her type. The fact that he thought she even might have made her angry - she felt terribly sorry for the poor woman mixed up with him. If he had one. Poesy bet he was single.

Despite her diminutive stature, Poesy held her ground. The phrase is it worth it? bumped around her head. She forced herself to stay silent as she huffed, blowing at a lock of her long blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail in frustration. She supposed she could go elsewhere but that wasn't the point.

"I'll snuff you in a minute," Poesy murmured under her breath as he glared at him. What was she doing? Really. This man was insufferable. She wanted to burst his ego or try to drown him in that potion he was making.

She blinked. Tomorrow after eleven. Did that mean she'd got the job? Rather than looking smug, she gave Torrence a curt nod of her head. "I'll see you tomorrow," she said stiffly before she gathered up her file and her bag and brushed past him, only to pause by the door. "The heat is too high," she added as she nodded at the fire before giving him a sunny smile and disappearing out of the front door.


[done!]