four seasons in one day. [tag; diederik]

It was another dull day.

Zara hated the cold. She hated dark nights, rain and biting wind and today, it had all three. Zara was built for warmer weather. A beach bunny by nature, suited much more towards summer, not winter. The rain lashed against the window panes, causing her to groan and curl up further into a ball.

It was all very depressing and she was feeling it. The living room was warm and comfortable and she in turn felt rather cosy. Why? Because she was lying on top of her boyfriend. She'd been here all weekend and had run out of clean clothes. She'd arrived on Friday after a date with nothing more than her slinky black dress and decided that she didn't want to leave. Prosper was going through one of his "moods" which consisted of him flip-flopping between sky high and crashing low.

He was up for drinking and then he'd mope. He'd be super happy and then he'd remember something and he'd become strange and distant. The two teenagers were well known for it. Both drama queens in their own right. They were hard work and they knew it. That being said, they were best friends and Zara would do anything for him, she just wasn't sure what else she could offer him at the moment. Prosper was restless and reckless and she was tired of coming home to find him wrapped around a girl.

So she'd just left.

Diederik had been so busy and she was flattered that he'd made some time for her. They'd gone out for lunch, gone for walks holding hands and she'd even stopped rolling her eyes long enough to watch his Quidditch practice. She didn't understand it. The rules, the players, the positions, the point of the damned game but she had to admit, she was impressed. He was strong and agile and clearly an asset to his team. For once, she hadn't even complained that her boobs were cold and her feet had fallen asleep. She loved him that much.

"Mmff," Zara grumbled as she rolled over and buried her face in Diederik's warm chest. She gave a yawn, shifting to entwine her bare legs with his. They were currently curled up on his sofa. It felt a million miles away from any stress and danger.

Her long blonde hair was loose and uncharacteristically unkempt, clean but falling around her shoulders in loose waves. Her pretty face was free of make up, her skin pale but her cheeks pink. All she wore was one of his team jerseys, the hem falling to her mid thigh. In fact, she rather liked the fact that she had his surname emblazoned across her shoulder blades.

Zara felt warm and safe and the idea that she had to leave in the morning to go back to school was equal parts dread and annoyance. Unlike Prosper, the petite blonde did not have a relaxed attitude to deadlines. Not at all. She frequently stressed herself out to the point of frazzling so this mini break was absolute perfection. All thoughts of essays and recitals and exams had melted away like snow on a bright Spring day. She needed this. It was good for her soul.

The ballerina made a grunt of protest as her boyfriend moved. She didn't care of Diederik was getting cramp; he was her official pillow. Feeling a chill, her slender body gave a shudder as she pulled the soft and warm throw back up and over her shoulder and then over their heads, like a little cocoon. Tilting her head up, she kissed him below his chin and offered a sleepy smile. "Hi," she yawned


@Diederik van Dijk <33

Diederik hadn't really considered she'd take his 'stay as long as you would like' proposition seriously, but his Zara made herself at home for the past few days. It didn't bother him, of course, but he had things to do, errands to run, a quidditch practice to attend. She took the busyness rather well which made him rather happy. He avoided a swarm of fans who wanted an autograph so he could have lunch with her at a hidden little hole in the wall cafe. Went for a walk in the brisk cold air to pick up his jersey after it had been professionally cleaned from a muddy game with a detour through a park. He also had to pick out a gift for his sister, who he hadn't seen in a little while, and used that time to walk down the wizarding shopping strip, arm in arm. Even got some hot cocoa.

It was because she didn't want to go back to a moping Prosper, and he understood that. There were moments his best friend would declare he'd run away and join the circus, and other times mope that him and Zoe didn't really work out as planned, and there were times that Diederik would find him sleeping around with random girls. One at a time, over a course of a few weeks or months, but it was a new fling every so often. Diederik, tried as he could, wasn't interested in that sort of life. At the end of the day he just wanted a special someone and a stable job.

So things were currently perfect at the moment for the man. He had Zara, which made him rather joyful. He practiced harder because of her, not exactly in a show off way, but he felt purposeful because had a little ballerina in his heart. He was a happier wizard because of finally catching her after the several years she would run away from him just because she liked him.

They had fallen asleep on his sofa, after a while of talking, cuddling, and making out. He simply adored her, and realistically, wouldn't mind if she stayed more. The wizard felt a shift on top of him. The pressure of his girlfriend's body shifted, which woke him from his soft snores and a sweet dream where Zara was flying on his broom with him over a nighttime Paris. He tried to get himself comfortable again as she coiled herself around him, which only seemed to have woken her in the process.

What light from the windows faded as the throw overtook his face for a brief moment. He let out a small quiet laugh, kissing her forehead which was the only thing he could effectively reach at the time. "Good morning," he peeked his head out of the cover to look at the clock before poking his head back under. Giving her a gentle squeeze he inhaled a deep breath, "what would you like for breakfast?" If he remembered right, Zara had to be somewhere sometime eventually today. He didn't remember the time or place, just that she had whined about not being able to stay another day. "Omelet? French toast? ... Eggs? ... I also have cinnamon pastries with frosting..." He was running out of food in his bachelor flat where he didn't spend a whole lot of time in on a normal weekend. His pantry and cold box was getting low. The night before he had prepared a little candlelit dinner for the two. Chicken with alfredo pasta and a creamy rice-type soup that came in a box from the muggle store, and a bottle of wizard-made wine. He did it partially to impress her. He supposed she really liked it, as evident from the sofa sleeping.

He kissed her forehead once again, "what time do you have to go?" The man gave her a playful pout, still clinging to her under the throw so she couldn't scurry out the door immediately. She looked absolutely beautiful in her unkempt state wearing his jersey. He wanted her to stay a little more. At least for breakfast.

"G'morning," she responded with a dippy little smile. She was comfortable and warm and safe. She liked this. She could easily have drifted back off to sleep. Unfortunately, she'd always been a light sleeper which was why she continually store a strip off Prosper when he came tumbling home in the early hours of the morning.

Breakfast?

Breakfast for the ballerina consisted of half a grapefruit and a cup of hot water with lemon. The ideas Diederik listed made her stomach practically scream no! at her but she resisted. "French toast would be good," she agreed, despite the fact that she hadn't ingested a complex carbohydrate since she was nine years old. She needed to chill out and she knew that. Besides, a man who could cook was not something to be sniffed at. Zara's imagination conjured up smells of vanilla and cinnamon and her toes curled in pleasure.

If her boyfriend cooked her a meal, then those calories were free. It was the rule. They'd had hot cocoa and creamy chicken and they were about to have breakfast. Had she been anywhere else and with anyone else, she would have been distraught.

Zara grunted and then shrugged casually. Truthfully? She didn't want to go home. Home meant more lessons. Home meant she had laundry to do and home meant facing whatever mood Prosper was in. When he was up, he was a dream. He was funny and exciting and energetic but when he was down, it was awful. He was hurtful and snappy and detached. She was unwilling to go back into the cold and unfriendly Parisian air. She'd much rather stay here in her love cocoon but Diederik was a busy man and she knew that by staying here, she was taking a huge chunk out of his valuable time.

"Soon, probably," she said vaguely. Zara was trying to use her unique blend of reverse psychology and emotional blackmail. She wanted Diederik to think she was strong and independent but she also wanted him to pine for her and ask her to stay. She wasn't going to tell him to his face; it was just something he needed to figure out for himself.

With a yawn, she shifted, gently untangling herself from her boyfriend's embrace. The warm blanket slipped off her shoulder, showing an expanse of creamy white skin as she neatly rolled off him. With her feet on the floor, she reached her arms above her head and stretched, letting out a soft sigh of pleasure as her bones popped and cracked back into place. His jersey was far too big for her. The neck hole was large and sloped down her shoulder, showing her clavicle and the hem fell to mid-thigh, revealing her slim and long, long legs.

"Shall I break some eggs?" She said softly as she turned and bounced into the kitchen. Zara knew her boyfriend was great. He was as beautiful and special as a snowflake but on a basal level, all men were the same. If she could tap into his inner-Neanderthal, she might be able to wrangle an ass grab out of him.

Zara had a rummage through his kitchen, pulling out various things as she offered him a smile. He was one of the few people who saw her like this. She was usually so perfect but today, she was dishevelled. Her hair was messy and she wasn't wearing a scrap of make up and her freckles were showing. Standing with her hands on her hips, she offered him a wide grin. "You're cute," she told him. She wondered why she'd spent so much time fleeing from her feelings. It seemed really rather silly now. With a shake of her head and a giggle to herself, she turned back and began to crack some eggs into a bowl.