With voltage running through her skin ~ [Sam]

It was a relatively warm, sunny afternoon. A lazy Sunday afternoon. Eva was perched, cross-legged in a quaint little art nouveau inspired wooden chair outside a small café in Diagon Alley. It was probably her favourite place in London to sit down and have a cup of tea and a cigarette, or catch up with an acquaintance. Currently, the girl was doing the former. A cigarette was held in one hand in between two fingers, off to the side, while her other hand held a novel. Usually muggle sci-fi books were not at the top of her reading list – as the pureblood witch who hadn’t had much contact with muggles until the previous year didn’t understand half of their weird jargon – but Elaine had suggested it, and for some reason Elaine seemed to be able to get her to do anything she wanted. Not that she minded.

The girl rested her cigarette in the provided glass ashtray for a moment and shifted in her seat so that her legs were tucked to one side. She was quite flexible and preferred sitting this way, despite her childhood etiquette lessons. Or perhaps in spite of them. The girl reached for her cup and took a long sip of her hot tea. One of the reasons that she loved this place was their rather exotic tea collection. They had nothing on the teas she and Elaine had tried in Asia, of course, but it was still nice. She took a moment’s break from reading to glance at her surroundings. It was a rather quiet corner of Diagon Alley, but she could hear a nearby water fountain bubbling away as well as the sound of chatter and coffee being made.

Footsteps caught her attention, and she turned her head to see a young man dressed in dark clothes. The waiter boy. “Excuse me,” she called in a melodic voice. Her blue eyes were bright and interested. “Could I have another pot of tea, please? The ginger one. I’m not sure what it was called.” She smiled apologetically, setting her book down temporarily and running her hands through her long hair. She’d only just dyed it again last night and wasn’t yet used to it. Dark blue roots, fading to green tips. She was considering going back to the warmer colours however – maybe orange or pink. Elaine liked it better that way. Her mind was on her hair, and she didn’t even think to consider that the boy she’d just ordered from might not have been a waiter at all.

He was utterly and totally lost.

This was a new town, a new city, a new beginning and he really didn't want to start it in an unappealing way. It came as a complete shock to Sam that he actually graduated, even more so when he found out his grades were certainly more than acceptable. The tall Swede has started a new job. He was working for the Swedish Ministry of Magic but he was liasoning with the London one. He was working as a translator, a special branch. He spoke six languages and at such a young age, his talent was spotted and snapped up straight away.

He made his way down the worn and uneven cobbled street, past the odd shaped, higgledy-piggledy shops that just looked so…funny to him. The entire thing was just utterly bizarre.

It was a new way of life here in Britain. Everyone was so darn rude. Dressed casually in a navy blue tee shirt and dark jeans, the warm air blew past and ruffled his shock of platinum blonde hair as his big blue eyes blinked from behind the lenses of his black square rimmed glasses. He was looking for a book shop. He'd been up and down this street three times that afternoon but he was too proud to ask for help. From previous experience, they wouldn't help him any way. The last person he'd asked for directions openly ignored him, pushed him out of the way and carried on walking.

Hm.

Rolling his eyes, he shoved his hands in his pockets as he turned around on the spot. His footsteps were light as he wandered back down the same street, absently wondering if this particular shop was even open on a Sunday. Everything seemed to stop on a Sunday. It was his own fault, though. Sam could have done it yesterday but he'd stumbled upon a night club. A night club with Aquavit. How on Earth was he supposed to turn down the drink of his nation? The night was a blur.

A voice stopped him suddenly. "Hm?[/I] He asked, eyes wide as he blinked a few times as he tried to process what was happening. She was asking him for tea. He paused and looked at her. The hair was the first thing that caught his eye. Wavy and decidedly not natural. Samuel tilted his head, his big eyes trailing unapologetically down over her dip-dye long hair, over her elegant neck, slender shoulders, his eyes drawn to her hips. Hips were sexy. She stood out like a sore thumb with her unusual shock of colour.

The cigarette was perched nonchalantly and he would have to be stupid not to notice the fluid curve of her impossibly long legs. Well, well, well, London. Just where had it been hiding this particular specimen?

Oh. Ha ha. She thought he worked there. He wasn't sure if he should be offended or not. He flashed her a smile, wide and bright that dimpled his left cheek cutely. He watched her fingers as they ran through her hair before he turned slightly to a girl carrying a tray. "Excuse me," he said softly, his English perfect but definitely accented as he reached out a hand to her.

"Hello," he said with a smile. "Could I please have a pot of ginger tea?" He asked softly, flicking his eyes to a discarded menu swiftly on a nearby table. "The lemongrass and ginger one, yes," he said with another smile as the girl left to fulfil the order he'd just placed. Amused, he turned back to the girl with both of his slim eyebrows arched. He wasn't at all offended by her assumption. It was the summer, he was a teenage boy, he could be working a low paid summer job for some extra cash.
Without wasting any time, Sam strode over to her table again, his big hands on the back of the chair opposite from where she was sitting and pulled it out, dropping to take a seat without an invitation. "She won't be long," he replied with a lopsided grin, positively tickled pink. "Don't worry, " he stated. "I'm not offended but I should be. It's nothing you can't make up to me over a late lunch," he commented playfully as he placed his elbows on the table and cradled his chin in both upturned palms as he watched her curiously.

Eva gave the boy a quick smile and returned to her book, shifting again so that she could stretch her legs out in front of her. A part of her could sense that he was watching her, but she wasn’t unused to it. The way she dressed and her coloured hair often drew looks, whether they were admiring or disapproving. The girl shrugged off her long jacket, swapping her cigarette between hands so that she didn’t need to put it down. Long jacket, short skirt, big boots. Rainbow hair. She was bound to draw looks. The Bulgarian flipped through the book with one hand, trying to find her page, but the boy’s accent drew her attention. She placed her book down again slowly on the table, bringing the cigarette to her lips again as she turned her attention back to the boy. Two things were discovered at once. Firstly, he was definitely a Durmstrang boy. She didn’t recognise him at all, and assumed that he was probably a few years younger than her. He wouldn’t know who she was either. There was no flicker of recognition in his eyes. She inhaled slowly as the end of her cigarette burned away.

The idea that someone might just find her was still terrifying to Eva, and sometimes she wondered what she’d do if it happened. Vaguely, the girl wondered what that boy would think of her accent. She’d worked as hard as she could to get rid of her accent entirely, but she’d only been away from school for three years. The time spent in Asia had changed things too. Eva didn’t know what she sounded like, but she’d been told that her accent was a little odd. She flicked her eyes up to meet his. The second thing she’d discovered was that he definitely wasn’t a waiter. Eva watched him as she exhaled a thin stream of smoke. She raised her eyebrows in return as he took a seat opposite her.

A smirk tugged at her lips. An apology was on the tip of her tongue, but then he started talking. Her eyebrows moved even further up her forehead. Late lunch? Eva straightened up in her seat, somewhat intrigued by this boy and his confidence. She crossed one leg over the other, watching him for a moment with a scrutinising gaze. Maybe he’d feel uncomfortable. Then again, he seemed pretty cosy just staring at her like that. “You have time for lunch, then?” she asked eventually in a soft voice, tilting her head to the side curiously. “Your parents aren’t going to be looking for you?” Her delivery was cool and unassuming. He didn’t look much younger than her, but if he was a recent graduate then she was sure the young man wouldn’t like to be called a child.

The waitress arrived swiftly with her pot of tea and she thanked the young woman. The girl also brought an extra cup. “Are you a fan of ginger and lemon grass?” She asked. The girl wasn’t about to pour him a cup, but the fact that he’d just plopped himself down and totally interrupted her afternoon was… well, it was kind of interesting. Eva liked interruptions to the plan. She was interested to see whether or not he’d just leave, or if he really was expecting to sit there with her. The girl thought about how amusing this story might be to Elaine later. The thought brought a playful smile to her lips.