[cal's party] so fixated on the girl with the soft sound [casey]

It wasn't even thirty minutes into his party and Pascal had marked it down as ruined. Nothing was going his way, it seemed. Nothing at all. It was his birthday, too, which meant that everything should be going his way. First of all, Pascal hadn't even wanted this many people at his house. The numbers seemed to be growing, and the now seventeen year old’s headache was growing with them. Not only that, but that annoying fifth year Spanish girl had shown up and decided to get rude with him, at his own party, nonetheless. If she didn’t like him like she was always preaching, he wondered, why did she even come to the party in the first place?

It took the blonde Frenchman seconds to decide that he was staying inside for the rest of the party. In his room, in the kitchen, anywhere but outside with the rest of the group and the loud racket that Sofie liked to call music. The only downside to that was the fact that his pool was outside and these idiots would be contaminating it. He wondered if there was some sort of magic that could deflect people trying to get in the pool; a sort of sheet that would prevent anyone from being able to swim. There probably was a spell somewhere, that made that happen, and Pascal had money on the fact that his mother or father would have known the spell. But, thinking that it might have only been a few friends, Pascal had asked them nicely to leave. After all, no one wanted their parents at their birthday party.

Pascal found himself in the kitchen after making his way down from his room, where he'd been sitting for a good ten minutes. There was so much alcohol down stairs in the kitchen, Cal remembered, and it really would have been a shame for it to go to waste. It wasn't the normal French wine that Beauxbatons students had during meals and that the Lefèvres drank almost every day - this was the special occasion hard liquor that the tall Frenchman hadn't ever drank in his life. It was supposed to be a lot more potent than the wine that he was used to, and one sniff from the bottle with a clear white liquid confirmed Pascal's fears that it wouldn't taste as good as wine did.

After grabbing a glass for himself, from the clear cabinet above his head, Pascal carefully poured a small portion of the bottle in his cup. The smell got a lot stronger - a foul, sharp smell that made the Frenchman second guess the fact that he was about to put it into his body. He was only distracted by the sound of his backdoor opening and the footsteps that followed, coming closer and closer to the kitchen. "You can't be in here." Pascal announced loudly in French, resting his left palm on the counter and setting his weight on it. The footsteps didn't stop, however, but instead came closer to Cal, who was now extremely, extremely annoyed. With a sigh, Pascal turned around with his eyes pinched shut, calling out, "I said you can't fu-"

He only paused when his eyes opened, finally looking at the person that was intruding in his space. "Oh... I uh..." Pascal paused, reaching back to rub the back of his neck. "Uh.." The blonde tried to remember all of the English that he'd learned since September, but for some reason, his mind was going completely, and utterly blank. He couldn't even remember a simple greeting. By the time that Cal had managed to utter anything out, he was sure his face had turned bright red. "H-Hello?" His voice was a lot more unsure and confused sounding than he would have liked it to be, although there was really nothing he could do about it now. "I am... I..." Pascal cursed under his breath, looking down at the ground for a second before back up at the girl that was standing in his kitchen. "I am much excited you are here?"

It had taken her what seemed like a year and forever to find her way into Pascal’s house and through the small clusters of people grouped all over the place to just find some room to start peering around for her French friend. For what had to have been the first ten minuets or so, Casey could find him nowhere. It was like he had vanished up into thin air. And it wasn’t like her French was good enough that she could ask if anyone had seen her, or that she didn’t think she wouldn’t find him soon enough that she considered trying to find the girl he called his best friend Sofie, to try and find him. Mainly due to the fact that she and Sofie got along as well as the Irish and Bulgarian fans did during a world cup. But even so, Casey was determined to find him on her own. She had made it this far by herself, she could find him at his own house for his own party then, couldn’t she? Absolutely.

But after another five minuets of not being to find the blonde boy anywhere, the Hufflepuff was beginning to get irritated, and decided her best bet was to go into whatever room it was that she’d seen people going in empty handed and coming out with drinks to get one for herself. Maybe a drink or two would help her not feel so on edge and alone. The idea was probably a bad one, but at this point, what did she have to lose? Weaving her way through the crowds and clusters of people Casey made her way to what she assumed to be the kitchen, muttering apologies to people who glared at her or who gave her a dirty looks for accidentally stepping on their feet. The witch was honestly surprised more people weren’t loitering around the kitchen, usually people hung around the drinks, but she supposed everyone had already fought to get their’s and were out mingling and socializing.

Pushing through the kitchen doors, Casey was taken by surprise when the blonde standing inside said something loudly in French. She wasn’t sure, but Casey was fairly sure the boy was none other than Pascal. Frowning, unsure of what else to do other than find out if it was Cal or not the Seventh year kept coming, stopping to blink when the boy turned around, who was indeed, Pascal, seemingly upset with her. Casey was about to turn and walk away, not wanting to catch him at a bad time, when he opened his eyes. Offering him a sheepish smile, Casey stood there for a few moments, unsure of what he was trying to say, or what she should do, one thing was for sure though, at least he wasn’t mad at her anymore.

She could feel a slight blush starting to color her cheeks, and was mildly glad to see that he was blushing too. Though the thing the girl found even more surprising was the fact that she was almost positive she’d heard him use an English word, and then a few more, and finally a phrase. Blinking again, the witch took a moment to process what he’d just said, and was sure she looked like an idiot, but she was so surprised by the words, she had to let them sink in. It wasn’t long after that that Casey felt her face split into a stupidly big grin. He’d learned English! The small detail wasn’t lost on the blonde, who distinctly remembered her pen pal vowing to never learn English, in favor of his superior language.

Casey didn’t know if she could stop smiling long enough to do something or say anything coherent. So she did the first thing that came to mind. Closing the gap between the two of them, Casey enveloped the boy in a tight hug, standing on her tiptoes a little to do so, laughing she as she did so “Hello! I’m excited to be here too..” She was so stupidly happy to see him, and to hear him speaking English, he probably thought she had gone mad since he’d last seen her. Finally letting him go after a moment Casey bit her lip nervously. She was really here! She was being such a girl, she almost couldn’t handle it, but she also couldn’t bring herself to care.

Then as if she’d forgotten she’d been holding his present all along, the blonde witch thrust it towards him, holding out for him to take. She had gotten him a big bag of sweets from a local shop in her home town, a book of terrible corny jokes, a bracelet, and a shamrock sticker. Now it was her turn to flounder. Looking up at him uncertainly, another blush creeping across her cheeks, Casey spit out her best interpretation of “Bonjour, Joyeux anniversaire!” She really hoped Pascal could understand what she was saying, at least well enough to know what she was trying to say. When she’d finished, the witch stood there, present in hand, looking up at the birthday boy hopefully, and eying the drinks behind him. She really didn’t want him to think she was incompetent, not when she hadn’t seen him in ages.

There were very few times when Pascal was speechless. Generally, it was because the person he'd been talking had said something extremely ridiculous and overly-stupid, although this time, it was for a completely different reason. It had probably been a year or so since Cal had seen Casey Regan, longer, even. However, she still looked the same, with her blonde hair and bright eyes. It was a relief to see that his face wasn't the only one that was red, although he was almost positive that his was darker than the Irishwoman's. Under any normal circumstances, he was sure he might have been embarrassed, but for some reason, it was the last thing he worried about at the moment.

"Excited!" He repeated, a little bit louder than he'd originally intended, nodding vigorously. A smile broke across the Frenchman's face, purely out of excitement that he'd gotten the word right. The smile only seemed to get bigger once she'd walked across the kitchen and enveloped him in a big hug. Pascal's first response was to wrap his own arms around her frame and hug her back just as tightly. It was a nice hug, probably one of the nicest that Pascal had ever experienced, although he'd never really hugged many people in his life. He'd hugged Sofie a great deal, but that was only because she was his best friend, and it was definitely to be expected.

Pascal didn't have time to register what was happening before Casey broke away and objects were being stuffed into Pascal's arms. His brows furrowed in confusion when he looked down at the objects, but it wasn't long before he'd realized what they were. They were presents, and they were from Casey, to him. It was a surprise, to say the least. The blonde wasn't really expecting presents from anyone, but it seemed like quite a few of the guests at the party had decided to bring him something to celebrate the fact that he was turning seventeen. "Oh, merci!" He told the girl, giving her a toothy grin before looking down and studying the objects that were now in his hands.

It was always a mystery to Pascal, what he was supposed to do when receiving gifts. Was he supposed to look at them in depth now, or set them aside and wait until later? Would it be rude to look at them later? Would it be neglecting the person in front of him to look at them now? After a quick scan of the items now in his hands, Pascal realized it might be better to look at some of them later. One thing, however, caught his eye. A gray and red bracelet with a nice silver clasp was sitting on top of the other items. After balancing the rest of his items in one hand, the blue eyed Frenchmen reached down and grabbed the piece of jewelry with his free hand. It took quite a bit of balance for him to set the rest of the items on the counter, but once he did, Pascal slipped the bracelet on his hand before smiling up at Casey. "This! I enjoy this." He nodded, pulling her into a hug yet again.

It was only after he'd pulled back that he realized his drink was still sitting behind him, causing him to turn around rather quickly. "Ah, pardonnez-moi s'il vous plaît." He paused, racking his brain for any English that he could remember. "I am rude to my guest. You like drink?" He grabbed his own cup and held it up to her, hoping that she might understand what he meant. "Do I say the words right?" He questioned afterwards, narrowing his eyes slightly and praying that he was using the English words correctly.

Excited!

Pascal’s exclamation had the blonde witch grinning. She nodded vigorously in response, happy to see the boy so excited. It wasn’t the first time that the thought had struck Casey that evening, but she couldn’t help but think for the umpteenth time how happy she was that she was here at Cal’s party. It had been nerve wracking, but so rewarding. She hadn’t realized how much she had missed her friend till she’d seen him. But she was also excited to see what he would think of his presents.

As silly as she had felt just shoving his presents at him, Casey was glad she’d done it, because this way she would get to see his reaction to some of it, at least. She didn’t expect the boy to look through every little thing she had gotten. Just having him look was making her grin like crazy all over again. At his thanks she shrugged, a little embarrassed, but she wiggled her eyebrows encouragingly, giggling at herself a little in the process then, when she’d managed to stop giggling the witch remembered to try and respond in French. Biting her lip nervously Casey raised her eyebrows and spit the simple phrase out “soyez le bienvenu?” She couldn’t help but sound a little questioning at the end, as she had no idea if she was saying anything right, or if she was making a fool of herself. The Hufflepuff watched her friends face closely, gauging it for any kind of reaction, and hoping for a good one.

When the blonde pulled the bracelet out of the small group of gifts, casey felt her smile getting wider. She’d agonized over whether or not she should get him the bracelet or anything like it at all for awhile. Some guys liked jewelry while others didn’t, and she hadn’t been sure about Pascal, but judging by his reaction she’d chosen well. Casey was about to help the wizard handle the rest of her gifts to him, but by the time she began reaching out, he had set them safely on the counter. When she watched him slip the bracelet on, Casey could tell she was grinning like an idiot, but didn’t really care. He liked her gifts, that was a big relief. She laughed softly as he pulled her into another hug, which she returned happily, shrugging lightly at his comment about enjoying the item “I’m glad...I enjoy you. So..” She trailed off not wanting to confuse him too much, and hoping he could figure the rest out from there.

What had he just said? Furrowing her brow slightly Casey tried to remember what the phrase Cal had just spoken meant. If she was right, which she was fairly confident she was this time around, he was asking her to forgive him for something. Then when the he clarified in broken English, Casey waved him off “You’re not rude. But yes, I would love a drink..” followed by some more incredibly broken French “Oui...” She had to pause to try and think of the right words. New languages were incredibly difficult “J 'aimerais un verre....Oui?” She nodded at the cup he held in his hand in case all their attempts at communicating verbally failed. At his next question Casey nodded again, another big grin on her face “Yes, you are...am I?” This was going to be a fun night.

Not knowing the words for the various bottles on the counter behind Pascal, Casey set about pointing to a few different bottles behind Cal to show him what she wanted. A vodka and pineapple ought to do the trick. Then a thought hit the witch. Would he know how to mix drinks? Quirking an eyebrow at him Casey pointed at the bottles she had selected “Do you know how?” Hopefully she understood what she was asking. Language barriers be damned, they would figure this out.

"I enjoy you." The words echoed back in Pascal's head and the grin on his face grew even wider than it was before, if that was even possible. He brought his hand up to rub the back of his neck, casting his eyes down for only a second before looking back up to the Irishwoman. "Thank you." Pascal nodded, licking his lips before narrowing his eyes and trying to recall a word in English. English was weird to the Frenchman, considering that they used the same word more than once in different contexts, with different meanings. One of the sentences that the water elemental had read contained the same word three times, he remembered, although it meant something different each time. That, as well as the aesthetic of the language, was one of the reasons that he didn't want to learn it in the first place.

"I enjoy you... as well?" He paused, flinching as if he'd gotten the words wrong. The last thing Cal had wanted was to seem stupid in front of Casey, or anyone for that matter. But he was almost positive that, if he had embarrassed himself in front of the other blonde, he might be more embarrassed than he would in front of his peers. For some odd reason, he actually cared what Casey thought.

"Oui, oui." Pascal gave the shorter girl a nod, when she questioned her own French. It made Pascal feel better, to know that he wasn't the only one who was having problems with other languages. Pascal didn't understand his confusion, however, considering the fact that it took him a matter of months to pick up the gaelic that they spoke at the elemental council. That language, in the Frenchman's opinion, was much uglier than the English language, although maybe he thought the national language of the United Kingdom was nicer because of the fact that Casey spoke it with such clarity and a nice, soft tone that was rather enjoyable to Pascal's ears. He could only imagine what she'd sound like if she spoke French fluently.

"Parfait!" He smiled over at her, before turning his attention back to the drinks that were in front of them. His brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to remember the meaning behind the words she'd spoken afterwards. The first few words, the words that posed the question, although it was the last word that Pascal was stuck on. He mumbled it over and over, trying to remember if he'd even learned it at all. It was only after he stared at the drinks for a few seconds that it had come back to him, how. "Ah!" The blonde exclaimed, smiling over at the Irishwoman next to him.

"Do you mean to drink?" He asked, speaking slowly to make sure he had all of the words correctly. His blue eyes drifted back to the bottles in front of him. Of course he knew how to drink. Everyone knew that. It was that thought that made Pascal second guess what he thought Casey was talking about, causing him to tilt his head to the side slightly and stare longer. "Do you mean... to... put them together?" He clarified, grabbing two capped bottles. After that, it became a sort of game of charades, with Pascal pretending to pour the two in the glass in front of him while he raise his eyebrows and looked over at her. "Like this? Oui?"

At his thanks, Casey nodded lightly. But found herself blushing lightly as his next words reached her ears. Grinning softly the blonde nodded at the frenchman in encouragement, as she could tell he wasn’t quite sure he was using the right words “You’re English isn’t nearly as bad as you think it is, Cal.” She said, using the nickname he’d told her to call him by back at the Victory Ball. It was oddly comforting, going back and forth like they were with the French and English. It meant one wasn’t making the other feel inadequate and they were both learning.

When Pascal confirmed she’d used the right words, just like she’d done for him a few moments ago, she couldn’t stop herself from chuckling a little. What a pair they were. Beaming at him she returned his grin. Maybe they were finally figuring out how their respective languages worked after all? Turning her attention back to the various bottles in front of them the witch shook her head at the taller boys first question, and then found herself nodding enthusiastically when he’d remembered the word for what she’d been asking “Mhmm! Oui! Like that. I was just asking in case you didn’t know how to make drinks, because I can..” the Hufflepuff hoped things wouldn’t get lost in translation, but at least they’d made progress.

After a bit of debate, once they’d settled the issue of what they were both talking about, Casey went for a pineapple and vodka, and took it gratefully from Pascal when he handed it to her. She waited patiently while the blonde boy made something for himself, and after a few sips of her drink, to make sure it was less likely to spill, she gestured to the kitchen door speaking slowly in French “Do you...want to? Or would you rather go somewhere else? We could dance?” Judging from his earlier behavior, the wizard didn’t seem to really want the whole big party to be happening, but Casey figured at least suggesting that they go out there for a moment or two wouldn’t hurt. He could maybe introduce her to some friends of his, or something. She’d seen a band setting up, and figured maybe they could dance too. Really all Casey wanted was for Cal to have fun at his party. And if that meant doing something else rather than going out into the main party, or going somewhere else, that was fine by her.

"Ah, non-sens." He shook his head, letting a small smile take over his lips as he looked down at his feet. "Your English is much more... eh, better?" He looked up at Casey, with a very confused look on his face. "There is a word that I am forgetting, I uh..." His cheeks turned slightly pink as he looked back towards the ground, his shoulder coming up to brush his ear. Embarrassment was something he'd wanted to avoid at all cost, and here he was, forgetting some word that he'd make sure he'd known when he studied the language.

Luckily, she seemed to be understanding exactly what he was saying. That was something that made him smile - they could actually communicate without any sort of charms or anything. "I actually never have made the drinks before," He admitted, raising his eyebrows while staring at the bottles on his counter. It was extremely true - Pascal had only ever had one drink of hard liquor before and that was earlier that day with his older brother before he'd left to go back home. "I have never drank either, only wine." He nodded, raising his eyebrows. There was no wine allowed tonight, though. Or that's what he was told, at least. Something about how he had to get properly drunk on his seventeenth birthday, but he didn't mind that. New experiences were fun.

That didn't stop him from trying to mix the drinks anyways. He'd hoped the proportions were right, because he would hate for that taste (well - the assumed taste - he'd only knew what it smelled like, and that was horrible in itself) of the alcohol to be too strong. But then again, he didn't know how Casey liked her drinks. Maybe she liked them stronger than normal, considering all the stereotypes about Irish people. It didn't take him long to finish mixing the drink and carefully handing it over to her and making sure not to spill. After that he composed his own, made from the same ingredients she'd wanted hers made of. He brought the cup up to his mouth for his first ever drink of alcohol, his nose scrunching up at the taste as he did so.

"You drink this very much?" He asked, his eyebrows raising while he free hand went to his ear, tracing the scar that was behind it. "Uh," Pascal's eyes looked over to his kitchen door. The party was still very much in swing, something that made him uncomfortable. He didn't understand the point of a huge party, but he didn't want to say anything. "Whatever you like to do, we do." He nodded, giving her a bright smile. "I want this to be fun for you."

She returned his smile with one of her own and shook her head ever so slightly “Oui, but your French is much better, too..” Casey wasn’t trying to argue as much as she was trying to tell him that it was the same for both of them. They both felt like they were floundering, and neither of them was any better off than the other. It was just something they would have to figure out, and so far things were going pretty well. Offering him another encouraging smile, Casey quirked at eyebrow at his next admission.

Casey had poured drinks more than a few times. Usually for herself and her cousins when they managed to nick some alcohol from under the nose of the unsuspecting adults, or at least she hoped they were. The last thing she needed was a tongue lashing from grams. There was likely nobody that Casey feared and revered more than her Gram. Not even McGonagall could intimidate her so much, though it was a pretty close call. But that didn’t stop her from grinning from ear to ear “There’s a first time for everything, no?” If nothing else, it would be fun to watch her friend pour his first few drinks. It was a rite of passage, so to speak, and sharing those things with friends was one of the blonde’s favorite things.

When the Frenchman had finished mixing her drink, and handed it over to her, the witch eyed it playfully before taking a sip and mock gaging, quickly shooting the boy a smile to let him know she was kidding. Casey nodded in approval, it was a touch strong for her tastes, but it was far from undrinkable, and that was pretty good for someone pouring their first drink. The girl couldn’t help but smile a little at Pascal’s face as he smelt the drink, sometimes that was they key, not smelling it before drinking it “It smells worse than it tastes, at least it should.” If he really didn’t like it, the Hufflepuff wasn’t going to make him drink it. If he wanted to drink only water, the girl wasn’t about to badger him, it was his birthday, he could do whatever he wanted.

At his question Casey shook her head and shrugged lightly “Not very often, no. Just usually something I drink at parties, if I feel like drinking. It’s simple to make and people usually have the ingredients on hand.” the Irishwoman paused before adding “I don’t drink too much, to be honest. What do you drink usually? If you drink at all..” she trailed off, not wanting to assume too much, but also not wanting to offend him in anyway.

"Whatever you like to do, we do." Casey hated when people did that, turning the choice back on her. She was terrible at making choices, when it came down to it. But since Cal looked so uncomfortable, the witch decided to humor him and choose. She’d seen the way he’d looked at the door with less than a little excitement. Dancing could wait, or not happen at all, she really didn’t have a preference one way or the other. Sighing softly the girl shot Pascal a light look “It should be fun for you, Monsieur, it’s your birthday” But she wasn’t upset with him in the least. On her impromptu journey to find the front door, and then Cal,Casey had noticed the yard and the fact that less people seemed to be outdoors than in, now that the band had started playing.

Shrugging a shoulder somewhat shyly, the witch gestured towards the door leading outside “Should we just wander around for awhile? It might give us a chance to catch up?” The seventh year felt silly for the suggestion, but he clearly wasn’t feeling the party, and Casey wasn’t about to make him miserable for her benefit, and she always enjoyed being outside. Maybe it was the compromise they could both enjoy?