[paris] why do we fall? | • z a r a

Prosper was sleeping. He’d been doing that a lot lately; Paris had an amazing nightlife, and now that he was cemented into a network of friends and acquaintances it wasn’t hard to find something to do every night after classes. Consequently, that had meant late many nights and, where possible, late mornings.

He wasn’t entirely useless, though. He’d finally ordered a bed, so that would be arriving any day now. Sneaking naps in Zara’s bed when she was in class or at Diederik’s was wreaking havoc on his sleep cycle and while he just pushed through the tiredness anyway (he couldn’t miss a social event!), Prosper was feeling it. Aside from that, Prosper was doing very well in his classes. His tutor had been speaking to him about auditioning later in the year to potentially get a late entry into an actual course, rather than just picking up the odd class here and there. Prosper was still mulling it over. 

Without cracking an eye open, the boy reached out into the sheets, his hand searching for a body that had been here the previous night. He found only sheets, however, and remembered what Jolie had told him about needing to leave very early in the morning. Ah, that was right. Suddenly there was a loud metal screeching sound as his sliding front door was opened. “Jolie?” he asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes. Zara was supposed to be staying at Diderik’s.

Limping home with a pink backpack slung over her shoulder, Zara winced as she hauled back the sliding metal door to their warehouse. She'd spent last night with her boyfriend but some stupid Quidditch related incident popped up and Diederik had to leave. Not one to wallow, she'd made use of the ballroom before classes had begun. Turning her rage into art, she'd gone too hard into one of her spins and as a result, over-rotated and hit the deck in a cloud of perfume, resin and swear words.

Blonde hair had escaped from her ballerina bun, her cheeks pink from the exertion of opening the front door. Her rage had subsided to a simmer of anger that matched the dull ache and throb of her foot as she dropped her bag and kicked off her flats.

The room was hot. With the curtains closed, the room was warm from sleep. Thinking nothing of it, a mumble caught her attention and her rage came right back up again. With venom. The audacity! Zara's jaw dropped, hot, dark anger licking at her insides as she saw her room mate, so casually sprawled out with his long legs twisted up in her high thread count sheets.

With steam coming from her ears, Zara stormed forward. "Who the Hell is Jolie?" She thundered, reaching out and yanking the pillow Prosper had his head on before bodily launching it at his face. "Do not tell me you fucked her in my bed!" The petite blonde screeched, the sound reverberating around the wide and open space. "Get out, get out, get out!" She howled, stomping her feet. "I just washed those sheets, you utter beast!"

Oops.

Prosper rubbed his eyes, trying to think of something he could say that might calm Zara down. His sleepy mind was coming up totally blank, though. “Uh…” The pillow was suddenly ripped out from under him and then smacked straight into his face. The boy sat up, Zara’s sheets falling off of his top half to reveal a beautifully sculpted chest… covered in smudged lipstick kisses. “Zara, Zara!” Prosper held his hands up in surrender.

His grey eyes pled for her to calm down, but then he noticed something over her shoulder. A lacy teal piece of lingerie caught on the corner of Zara’s bookshelf. Staring straight back at her so that she wouldn’t notice, Prosper started talking. “I’m sorry, okay, but you know you’re totally overreacting. Sheesh. Weren’t you supposed to be at Didi’s house?” Prosper used the nickname with a little bit of a smirk in his voice. He couldn’t help but tease, even now. He was a little unwilling to get out of the sheets because he wasn’t wearing anything underneath.

Zara only stopped her pillow assault when she saw smears of red on his chest. Pink cheeked and panting, she dropped the pillow to the floor as she folded her lips into a thin line. There was lipstick on him and there was lipstick on her sheets. Her sheets! Her sheets! Zara didn't like people touching her things. She ran a tight ship.

"Clearly none of my other plans fell through!" She screamed, gesturing wildly to her bruised foot and bedraggled appearance. Picking up the pillow, she launched it at him again, grabbing the ends of her sheets and pulling furiously like a wild animal. There were some things room mates needed to abide by. She was furious that Prosper had insisted that he didn't need a bed and it was bad enough that he was sleeping it in when she wasn't here but bringing a girl back so he could bump nasties in it? Nuh uh. Not cool.

Zara rounded on him swiftly. Her voice was rising unsteadily, a clear sign that she was about to pitch a fit. Thank goodness there weren't any neighbours around here. "Get out!" She repeated, still yanking on the sheets. The petite blonde pulled so hard and with him resisting, the sheets were pulled from her hands and she stumbled backwards. Slipping, she bumped against the bookshelf and a lacy set of knickers landed on her head. Pausing, she looked right at him, murder clear in her eyes before she let out a noise like a wounded wild animal and promptly launched herself at him.

“Oof –! Zara!” Prosper slapped back at the pillow with little slaps. When Zara started tugging on the sheets, Prosper tugged back. “You’re overreacting Zara!” he called patronisingly, waving a hand flippantly at her and playing tug-of-war with his other hand.  Suddenly she was on top of him, hands slapping and nails scratching.

Wrestling naked with your best friend…. Who was your other best friend’s girlfriend… seemed kind of wrong. It wasn’t like Zara hadn’t seen him in his underwear multiple times when they were younger or just around the apartment, but getting so personal without underwear was new. He didn’t like it. “Zara!” he screeched, a mock-chastising tone in his voice as he covered his face with his arms to avoid her sharp nails, “Hands off! You’ve got a boyfriend!”

Prosper obviously didn’t have an “off” button. He didn’t know when to stop teasing.

Zara hadn't  been in a fight before but that didn't stop her from trying. Her slaps looked more like a doggy paddle, swats but with more power. She must have got him a few times as her hands were sore. She tried to grab the pillow in the pretence of holding it over Prosper's face and smothering him. Her ire was rising with his words and the fact that he found this thing entirely too funny.

Boyfriend?

Zara froze, eyes wide as she realised how that must look. Then it hit her. "You're not wearing pants, are you?" She whispered as she paled. "Ew ew ew!" She squealed, wriggling, trying to extract herself from his body with her flailing limbs. She kicked at him and the sheets, trying to disentangle herself from her bed in frantic, panicked movements whilst emitting strange, high pitched squeaks.

That was why he was trying to hold onto the sheets! She felt sick. She actually went as far to retch. With a squeal, she fell off the mattress and flat on her back on the floor, panting. This…was not a good day. She shuddered, feeling queasy. She may have accidentally touched it and the entire thing was disgusting and she hated him for putting her in that position. "I hate you," she said in a soft voice from the floor.

Prosper failed to see how this was anything other than hilarious. Didn’t Zara realise how ridiculous she was being? Total overreaction. This, on top of her constantly nagging for him to do the dishes or pick up your dirty shirts made him think that maybe he should have moved in with Emil or Casper after all. Zara had no chill.

Prosper didn’t fight back when she attacked him. He just shielded his face and took her blows until she finally realised what he was yelling about and backed off. The boy laughed as his friend fell off of the bed, but he quickly arrange the sheets to cover himself up again too. He was pretty confident when it came to his body, but being naked near Zara… or associating anything remotely sexual with Zara… that was just kinda weird. Diederik had always been the one that was into blondes, and Prosper had never really liked dancer girl bodies.

Zara was like his sister or something. “No you don’t,” he snapped back, his voice full of sass. “You love me.”

Maybe he should have moved in with Caspar or Emil. On the floor with lacy undies in her hair, she frowned. Both teenagers were intense and putting them together in such close quarters, well, it was bound to blow up at some point. Perhaps Prosper having a social life that didn't centre around her was…unusual.

Sitting up, she whipped the knickers from her hair and tossed them back at him, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. Zara didn't think she was prudish. She'd lost her virginity before Prosper had, maybe she was just having a bad day.

"Don't push your luck," she told him swiftly as she stood, her bright blonde hair sticking up and out like coat hangers. She was bored with his teasing words and flippant behaviour. To her, he'd intentionally violated her personal space. She'd never have sex in his bed and she certainly didn’t to sleep in it tonight. Maybe Diederik wouldn't mind having her over? Better yet, her parents' home back in comforting Chatoeil.

Grabbing her bag, she ignored her dirty leotard and began stuffing clean clothes into it, moving around like a whirling dervish. If Prosper wanted to spend more time with his girlfriend, that was fine, she'd happily get out of the way.

The eighteen year old snatched Jolie’s lacy underwear out of the air deftly with one hand. He made a mental note to keep those somewhere until she came over again. Should he wash them? The boy glanced down at his fistful of lace curiously, wondering what social protocol stated that he should do. He hadn’t really had an easy casual thing like this before. The closest thing he’d had to Jolie was Maria, and that was nothing like this. It certainly wasn’t easy. She certainly hadn’t left lace panties in his dorm room…

Prosper laughed at Zara’s words, thinking he was off the hook. “You look ridiculous,” he added, nodding at her hair sticking up in all kinds of directions. The boy shuffled to the edge of Zara’s bed, wondering if she’d leave the room so he could get some clothes on, or if she’d maybe get him a towel or something. “Look, I’ll wash the sheets, okay…” the boy trailed off as he realised that she was packing up. “Where are you off to?” he asked, a slight frown creasing his handsome face.

Zara ignored him. Yup, she did look ridiculous. She was a ridiculous person. She was rude and screechy and stupid and overdramatic. Prosper wasn't the first person to tell her that. Feeling irked by his  carefree words, she hastily scraped her hair back into a ponytail that sat high on the back of her head, nowhere near as polished as she usually was, it was done purely to shut him up.

At that moment, his laugh felt like nails on a chalkboard so she turned her back and ferreted around the warehouse, clumsily tossing things in. Deep down, she knew she was a drama queen and really, Prosper hadn't done anything wrong. He was entitled to bring girls back whenever he liked. She had no say in the matter. In went clean underwear (practical boring briefs, unlike the one's belonging to Prosper's latest conquest), a jumper and socks. Most of her clothes were still back at home.

"Home," Zara said brusquely. "I don't give a shit about the sheets," she lied. She imagined their grungy tumble was wonderfully comfortable on those. Dragging her bag, she slammed the bedroom door shut as she threw in a toothbrush and a hairbrush, absently wondering if his girlfriend had the audacity to use either of them before she left that morning. The sheer idea of it made her blood boil. Zara Rousseau was horridly and inexplicably jealous of her room mate.

Opening the door, she kept her eyes firmly on her feet as she gathered some folders from school, shoving them under her arms clumsily, papers spilling out of them. She didn't know how long she'd be gone so it'd be best that she be prepared for classes. "You can enjoy your clandestine rendezvous in peace."

“Zara…” The blonde disappeared out of the room and Prosper hopped up to his feet. With a quick glance down at his naked body, the boy decided getting dressed would be a good idea right now. He nudged a few things around on her floor with his toes before finding the silk boxer shorts he’d dropped there the previous night. Pulling them up, the boy tripped out of the door to catch up to Zara and whatever she was doing. “Don’t do that!” he called out.

Prosper was in trouble now. A screaming, screeching Zara he could deal with. Sure, her getting angry with him usually resulted in him either getting angry at her back or just laughing it off, depending on his mood, but a quiet, stressed, moody Zara? No, that one meant danger. The memory of finding a student’s secret stash of alcohol and drinking it all with his blonde friend in a broom cupboard was in the back of his mind. When they’d talked about love and lovers and life. That was the sort of thing that moody Zara needed.

Though he wasn’t sure why she was so moody right now. Wasn’t she happy? She’d gotten into the school she wanted to get into, hadn’t she? She and Diederik were finally together, weren’t they? When Zara reappeared, Prosper was trying to subtly wipe some of the lipstick marks on his chest with an old takeaway meals serviette he’d found on the ground. “Hey,” he said, following her back into her bedroom. “How long are you going for…?”

Oh good. He was getting mad. Great. Then he knew how she felt. She knew she adored Prosper but they were so different but also so alike in how they dealt with things. Zara was uptight. Her life was regimented and mapped out and anything that didn't fit in with her plans was discarded. Friends, lovers, other plans, anything. But Prosper was wide open and loosey-goosey. He could cope with anything and that was probably where her covetous behaviour began.

The corners of her plump pink lips quirked up into a smile as she saw him trying to remove the remnants of the night before. It tickled her, despite her mood. Wordlessly, she held out a packet of make up remover wipes for him to take.

"Dunno," she said honestly with a shrug of her shoulders. "Couple of days?" She just needed to blow off some steam. A walk along the Seine would probably do it. Fresh air and a croissant, despite the fact that she never ate baked goods, refined sugar, anything that was not or organic or remotely fun. The last time she'd eaten cake was when she was six years old.

This wasn't a fight. Not really. Fights were usually two-sided. Prosper had just laid there and took it like a champ. She thought living together would be fun! Two best friends, taking the French capital by storm, hijinks, laughter, fun. They were too young and restless and they should have listened to their parents' advice but she never ever did. "I just…things are messy. It feels weird. I feel weird. It's all kind of--" trailing off, her shoulders sagged as she sighed. "Icky."

Prosper accepted the makeup wipes with a pleasantly surprised smile and began wiping at his abs. “Oh okay,” he replied, a little relieved. “I was worried there for a sec. Thought you might be skipping town.” Or you know, threatening to move out or something? Prosper and Zara fought a lot, but he still liked being here with her. It was probably a familiarity thing. They were practically neighbours in Dahliental and then they’d been housemates for seven years of schooling. Zara was a staple.

“Maybe we should go on a holiday,” he offered. Screw classes. His professor wanted to try to get him into actual university, and Prosper was considering it… but he wasn’t tied down yet. Zara could take a few days off too, obviously. “You know my dad just sent all those sickles for me to ‘get set up’, whatever that means…” Maybe they could skip town together? Head off to somewhere exotic. The first time they’d come to Paris together was for Zara’s audition, and it had been totally awesome.

Prosper wished that he could unite all of them – Nala, Monty, Zoé, Emil, Caspar, Diederik, Hasina… everyone, all at once. It had only been a couple of months, but already he felt like the ties were weakening as everyone got on with their own lives. He didn’t like it.

Zara didn't smile back, nor did she drop her bag. Skipping town was exactly what she still wanted to do. They hadn't reached a truce but the awkwardness had lessened, although it still hovered in the air like a fog. The crux of the matter was that she didn't really want to stay here tonight. Prosper was easy to forgive but things were getting a bit heavy. Paris wasn't as glamorous as she'd imagined and she found herself longing for the fresh sea air of home.

The ballerina made for the door, hand on the handle and about to open the door to let the sunlight in before she turned back to face him. "I don't know," she replied, chewing her lower lip anxiously. She had responsibilities now. Classes, schooling, her own place, she couldn't just swan off.

Delicately, she placed her bag down on the floor but still lingered in the doorway, ready and able to make a quick escape if necessary. If they were having problems now, they'd still be having problems abroad. "Those are for food and utilities, Prosper," she reminded him gently. Mr. Lachapelle had never approved of his son dancing and he was fierce but he clearly loved Prosper.

But Zara did love a beach and her anger towards her friend was waning but still present. "Where would you go?" She asked lightly, keeping her distance and trying not to look too interested.

Happy that the lipstic smudges were all gone, Prosper cocked his arm back like he was throwing a dart before tossing the scrunched up wipe with pinpoint accuracy… right off of the lip of the bin and onto the floor. Prosper shrugged, turned back to reply to Zara, then thought better of it. “Utilities are boring,” Prosper replied in an offhand manner, trotting over to the bin and picking up the thing he’d thrown on the floor with two dainty fingers. He dropped it into the bin. “We’re young. Isn’t this the best time of our lives to be irresponsible?”

Prosper had been spouting rhetoric like this for a few years now, and his friends probably doubted that he’d ever stop spouting it. Wasn’t “growing up” sort of subjective, anyway? “Honestly, the circus is coming into to town soon. Maybe I’ll try to join up.” Prosper laughed at the idea, his grey eyes twinkling cheekily. This was the sort of thing he used to say to his parents to get them riled up. “Seriously though. We should go somewhere fun! It’s summer, right? What about Greece? What about Spain?”

The boy wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at Zara, urging her to come in on this crazy plan of his. “We could even buck the trend and go for a winter holiday in… I don’t know… New Zealand or something!” Prosper laughed, but he was entirely serious. New Zealand for a week? That sounded amazing.