[Serenata]And baby if you hold me/then all of this will go away [Annelise]

It was a cold February morning, the kind of cold that snuck its way underneath every possible layer of clothing and still found a way to cling to one’s skin. Despite the cold, Addreig was found early that afternoon in London making his way to Serenata for a long overdue reunion that he’d orchestrated just two days prior in the most comical, albeit confident of fashions. All those months ago, when he’d first met his soon to be companion Annelise, the mysterious seductress had left an even more enigmatic message behind on a piece of paper which she’d explained was her phone number. He’d been altogether taken aback by the surprising muggleness of the act at the time, but despite his usual aversion had not been completely turned off by the gesture; just confused by it a little. So, it would stand to reason that while he’d pocketed the piece of paper and carried it with him wherever he went for all these months, he remained reticent to call her.

When he did finally decide to call her, he did so just down the block from where the two had met on Charings Cross Rd. Being that close to the Leaky Cauldron and at the risk of being caught by other pureblood denizens of the wizarding world doing something so muggleish had made the situation all the more nerve-wracking. He’d entered the telephone booth and after closing the door behind him, he rather gingerly picked up the receiver and dialed her number. The line had crackled a bit and he’d almost hung up, but finally her voice was heard on the other end of the line. The sound of her voice brought back memories of the night that they’d met and she was just flirtatious on the phone as she had been then. She said she was surprised to hear from him, but she seemed pleased and they’d talked for a while before they’d made plans to meet for coffee later on in the week.

So that’s how he found himself that day, sitting at the window seat at Serenata, watching the crowds. He was by no means a people watcher, usually more concerned with his own goings on than those of others, but this time he was watching for Annelise. His hands were being kept warm by the demitasse cup of his double espresso; he’d wanted to wait for her but he’d barely gotten any sleep the night before in his anticipation and needed the pick-me-up before meeting with her. He was dressed in simple navy, pin-striped robes over a light blue button down and grey slacks. His black cloak lay draped across the back of his chair. He was about to take a peek at his watch, but his eyes were drawn out the window at her as he saw her striding down the road toward the coffee shop.

With glowing confidence, the blonde moved through the streets. She felt positively radiant today, and she was certain that it showed. Her long walk down the narrow streets of Diagon Alley felt very much like her own private catwalk. She could see heads turning out of the corners of her eyes, but she paid them no mind. She was on a mission. She was headed for a date.

As strange as it was, the girl hadn’t really been on a proper date; at least not one she could remember. She’d been with many men, much to her recent chagrin, but she’d never really felt like this. Today, meeting the man at a coffee shop in the middle of the day, she felt like she was on display. She wasn’t hiding in the shadows or pairing up with someone after last call. She was the star, front and center. And you could bet your ass that she looked the part.

She’d dressed for him. She wanted to be sure that he could spot her a mile away. She sported simple, well-fitted black trousers and a fun black and white striped blouse, but it was her phosphorescent pink coat that was catching people’s attention. It was so bright that it was nearly grating. You could probably spot her from space. In her way, it was a private joke for him. Today, her hair fell behind her in long, icy-blonde waves, but when he’d met her, it was coiled atop her head in the same shade as her coat. Then, she was the girl with the bright pink hair, and now she was the girl in the bright pink coat.

Finally reaching the door to Serenata, she let herself in. Taking a few steps, she headed straight for the barista. “Excuse me,” she whispered, “I’m supposed to be meeting someone. He’s pretty tall, brown hair, brown eyes?” she went on, continuing to describe the man to the best of her ability. “Can you just tell me if you see him?” Eying her quizzically, the barista pointed towards the window, and Annelise smiled at her. She wondered if he’d seen her walking down the street. “You’re the best,” she said, offering a bright smile to the young worker.

Then and there, in truly over-the-top and undeniably Annelise de Massey fashion, the girl whipped around, her blonde hair lifting from her shoulders and spiraling back around. A gleaming smile on her face, she spotted him, right where the girl had pointed. She had always been a performer, and she wanted the man to have the best seat in the house. With a small, coy wave, the girl signaled to him, giving her best shot at making the whole display seem natural and effortless. 

With swaying hips, she went to him, her black heels clacking against the floor. She held her black bag in the crook of her arm, her eyes wholly affixed on him. He was dashing in his pin-striped robes. She was glad she wore stripes of her own. Kismet, she mused.  Resting her arm against the back of the empty chair across from him, she just smiled and shook her head. “Well well, fancy meeting you here, stranger,” she offered with a wide grin, a thick sultriness dousing her words. Daintily, the girl slipped into her chair, sweeping the long tail of her coat beneath her legs and she did so. She just wanted to look at him for a moment. He was certainly as handsome as she remembered, though he looked even better in the daylight. Everything looked better in the daylight. It was a new perspective for the girl.

She eyed the small cup on the table, and let her grin grow wider. “Late night, eh?” she jested, hoping in the back of her mind that she wasn’t actually late. She’d thought she’d timed it just right. She couldn’t worry about it now. She needed to be fully present in the moment. She wanted to squeeze every drop out of this that she could. Leaning forward, the girl rested her arms on the table and gently cocked her head to the side. She bit her lip, a fleeting effort to suppress her ceaseless grin. She let out a little laugh as she blinked away from him, her thick eyelashes fluttering as her face flushed.

“I’m so glad you rang,” she said, emphasizing his dedication. “You cracked my little code, it seems,” she jested. She simply couldn’t stop smiling. She was on top of the world.

It was as if she had come from another world; there was certainly something ethereal about the way that river of ice blonde hair fell down her back and clashed with the almost fluorescent pink of her coat. He felt his eyes widen when they first fell on her and he couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth from curling up into a wry smile. He’d told her when they first met that she had guts, so he shouldn’t have been surprised. It certainly took a lot of gumption to wear something that unapologetically ostentatious and she was able to pull it off swimmingly. The thought of it actually made him chuckle quietly to himself and his smile widened and became more relaxed and genuine. She was making him feel more at ease even before they had exchanged a syllable; she wasn’t even in the same vicinity and already she was affecting him. As she neared the café and made her way toward the entrance, she passed out of his peripheral vision and his heart sank a little for having let her slip out of his sight.

The bell tinkled above the door and his response was almost Pavlovian, his gaze swiftly darting to the door as if he believed that he’d miss her if he blinked. Annelise must not have noticed him right away because he watched her cross the room to the counter and engage the barista in a brief conversation. He found himself gulping as nerves suddenly washed over him that only intensified when she turned and started to make her way toward him. And then, then there were the hips. His eyebrows shot up toward his hairline as she approached, her body swaying seductively with each step. As if that weren’t alluring enough, her gaze never seemed to break with his, even when she came closer and closer still.

Finally, she arrived at the table and was leaning toward him, eyes still on his. He blinked a couple of times as she spoke; he was taking her in up close and was taken aback a bit by her nearly resplendent appearance – in his eyes at least. She was unlike anyone he had ever met before and that contributed a lot to his complete fascination with her. That and the fact that she was absolutely stunning. He realized a little too late that he hadn’t returned her greeting. He was able, at least, to offer her a winning smile even though he was inwardly cursing himself for not having gotten up to pull out her chair for her.

“Well, hello there.” He offered, a little too meekly for his taste. “You could say that,” again much too mundane.

Addreig swallowed hard and, trying to make up for his lackluster greeting, boldly leaned forward to squeeze her hand tightly which arguably wasn’t so much bold as it was equally as dull as his hello had been. He bit down on the inside of his cheek, still managing to smile and released her hand. She was glad he’d called and mercifully did not tease him for how the phone call had transpired. He was growing increasingly fonder of her as time went on and she’d only just arrived. Again, he was becoming more relaxed and more forgiving of himself. It could be hashed up to his being out of practice with talking to women, or anyone in general, nothing more; and Annelise was not just any woman, anyway.

“You’re glad I called?” Add winked, chuckling once more. “How did you know I thought it was some strange runic message? I didn’t know if I was supposed to add them together, or what.” He laughed wholeheartedly then, more jovially than he had ever allowed himself to be with anyone. “It really is great to see you, Annelise. I’m sorry it’s been so long. Fill me in, what have you been up to? And before you ask about me, just know I work, I sleep, I eat – repeat.”

She couldn't help but smile at him as he spoke, his words flat and plain. She wondered if he was really that nervous? Not that she was trying to discount her own appeal, but the girl certainly wasn't used to rendering men skittish; at least not outside of Sirens. As his hand reached across the table and gently squeezed her own, she was reassured. Even if he was really that nervous, he was going to make an effort. Flirtatiously, she smiled across the table at him. She liked that he would try for her.

Laughter cascaded from her in warm, bubbly waves as he continued, playfully reminiscing on the girl's rather foolish decision to leave a phone number with a wizard. In truth, she'd been seeing a lot of regular men lately, muggle men of London. They didn't have owls. Perhaps more importantly, they didn't have a lot of questions. She could, quite literally, disappear from them whenever she chose. It wasn't healthy behavior, but it had been serving her nonetheless.

"I'm still sorry about all of that," she offered, her boisterous laughter trickling away. "That's the thing about me, Addreig, sometimes I'm just -" she paused, twirling a bit of her hair between her fingers, "well, blonde!" Another cheeky laugh escaped her, and she wondered if she was being too silly. She was just having a pleasant time. It was a nice change of pace. The girl felt a bit nervous herself as the man continued to speak. He wanted to know what she'd been up to, which was perfectly reasonable... for a more common witch perhaps. She had to make a choice, and she had to make it fast.

A faint smile spread across her lips as she shifted in her chair, her thoughts quickly and quietly toiling back and forth. "Well," she began, idly buying time, "I've been, I've been busy!" she offered, with a quick nod. That was true, for sure. She hoped he wouldn't notice her eccentricity in this moment. She doubted it could be missed, though. With a light laugh to clear her throat, her gaze fell to the table. "I have to be honest with you, Addreig," she said, her eyes flickering up to meet his, "I'm a bit of a... partyer," she confessed. She hated the words as they left her, afraid that he might form an opinion of her. He wouldn't be wrong, necessarily, to judge her, but she was simply having such a nice time.

"I'm a waitress," she blurted, her fear of his judgement outweighing her moral compass. She blinked a few times and smiled before continuing. "I mean, that's why I party," she corrected, "it's for work. I'm a waitress at a club downtown," she added, the lies practically spinning themselves. She felt her cheeks flushing a bit and wondered if she'd managed to sink this ship. I can't just say it. I can't tell someone that on a first date. Her thoughts were bombarding her, but she wouldn't let it show. She just smiled warmly and waited for the man's response.

Hi, Addreig. I'm Annelise and I'm actually a stripper. Nope, definitely not.

Addreig cleared his throat, the sound gravelly and abrupt. He had the sinking suspicion that Annelise had noticed his nerves and was going to do his best to prove to her that he wasn’t that pathetic. He gave her hand one last squeeze and let go, bringing it up to rake a hand through his thick and nearly perfectly coiffed hair. His posture loosened and he sat back in his chair, both arms stretched over its back, his body language open and his posture relaxed. She had such a way about her that was contagious and he found himself mirroring her confidence; he was back to his arrogant, cocky self, tamped down just a bit so he wouldn’t leave a bad impression.

Her laughter was a beautifully welcome sound and he couldn’t help but join in, a huge smile spreading across his face and lighting up his eyes. He didn’t seem to mind that she was still, at least in some harmless way, teasing him. He had a feeling that she was also laughing at herself, so he wasn’t insulted in the least. In fact, he was able to laugh at himself, too. It was kind of was a ridiculous situation now that he thought about it; though, he was trying not to dwell. He was more interested in and fond of the current moment, having her finally sitting across from him after all this time of waiting.

“There’s really no need to apologize any more than you already have! We were both fools and now it’s over;
I’m more interested in the here and now. I know so little about –“ He was going to go on until she said that’s the thing about me, Addreid; he waited with bated breath for what she would say next and when she finished it took a moment for what she had said to sink in. It wasn’t that he was dense and didn’t get the joke, it was that she was so confident with herself that she could even say something so self-deprecating and somewhat on point. At first he just grinned, but then he broke into his own laughter. “I like that about you, you can be so real – and funny, too! It’s – well, it’s a nice change from all the daft girls…”

He cut himself off there and suddenly adopted a brief deer-in-the-headlights look to him. He had not intended to and should not have brought up something like that; especially not in front of a lady. He couldn’t on, not in the slightest, that he was a player. Not that he thought about himself personally, but he’d been told that by many a woman he’d had a fling with, usually accomplished by an unwanted shower of whatever the woman was drinking at the time. He wanted things to be different this time. Her answer to his question came as such a relief to him that he almost wanted to pull her across the table and plant a kiss on her lips out of gratitude.

“Busy is always good, unless what’s keeping us busy is boring and monotonous. Then I usually end up wanted to curse myself into oblivion.” He was about to ask her what she was busy with, but she answered his question before he could pose it to her. She said it as something that he would look down upon. A partier? What’s so wrong about that? Unless she’s sleeping around, I don’t see what’s wrong with that. He shrugged slightly and arced an eyebrow, looking incredulously across the table at her.

“A waitress? That’s nothing to be ashamed of at all!” In the back of his mind, though, he was judging her, just a little. Perhaps more than he should have and it was truly misplaced – any normal, less arrogant and self-possessed person would find her partying more repugnant. Instead, he was looking down on her because of her profession; that was simply how he was brought up. It was something he could change, but he wasn’t aware of it enough to even begin to adapt to a less – less, selfless outlook on life.

“Now, is it while you’re looking for other work, or studying something? I’m curious,” he said, stroking what little beard he had in thought. “I want to know what makes Annelise tick. I already know you have a great taste in music – and definitely your own style. Tell me more,” and as he finished, he couldn’t help but wink across the table at her and didn’t stop the corner of his mouth from turning up in a wry smile.

I’ll show you mine if you show me yours, first.

"You don't think so?" she teased about her waitressing, hiding the truth that was buried beneath her words. In fairness, she didn't think so, not in the slightest, but there was something about the dapper and rather proper man across the table that made her feel like she needed to sit up a bit straighter. She felt a little bit of relief as he seemed to accept it, but then he continued on. Was that what made it acceptable? A waypoint job? Something to bide the time? "No, I'm just - " she trailed, shifting in her chair a bit. "I guess I'm sort of living right now, you know, figuring out my next move," she confessed, which was mostly true. He continued, and a slight nervous laugh escaped her. "My my, so many questions," she teased, though the sentiment was also quite true. What the hell makes me tick?

Like a reflex, the girl fell into her old ways. She was used to people asking things from her, wanting to know more than she was willing to give. In her profession, even, men were always wanting to push boundaries. It was so typical of them, a need for control. While she knew, on some level, that the man's questions were innocent, she also resented the fact that she felt like she was under a microscope. The girl loved attention, that was no secret, but she didn't like the spotlight forced on her. She watched as he winked at her, a wry smile on his lips. You want it, you got it. Effortlessly, the girl shrugged her bright pink coat off her shoulders and let it lie on the back of her chair. She was showing more skin, her black-and-white striped top boasting little cap sleeves and a scooping neckline. With fluidity, she swept all of her long blond hair behind her shoulders, as if to accentuate her collarbones. "What makes me tick..." she repeated his words to him, locking eyes with the handsome man.

"I like long nights," she began, her tone light and casual, "where you're so preoccupied that it feels like eternity is settling in around you," she finished. Her eyes flickered with something, and she knew he would notice. "Those moments where you're so enthralled that it makes it hard to breathe," she continued, a little smile curling in the corner of her lips. "I like surprises, most of the time," she spoke, "when they keep me on my toes and makes me rethink an opinion," she added, "especially about people." Confidently, she reached across the table and slid the man's cappuccino cup towards her. "I like to be physical," she continued, her words a rather pointed double entendre, "you know, be in touch with my body and all," she finished. She brought the small porcelain glass to her lips and pressed a kiss against its rim. "I like the sight of my lip print on the coffee cups of handsome men," she teased, setting the petite vessel back onto the table.

She moved to rest her forearms on the tabletop, leaning in as though she were about to tell him her biggest secret. "And I like to be on top," she purred, letting the phrase linger, "of my game, you know? I like to stay sharp." Smiling with heavy faux-innocence, the girl pulled back slightly, quietly batting her eyelashes. She eyed him for a moment, feeling tension in the air. "What about you, Add?" she spoke, seizing the opportunity to label him with a pet name. The time for proper formalities was falling away quickly. She leaned in once more, resting her chin delicately in her palm. With a challenging smirk and a raised brow, she continued.

"What makes you tick?"