keep the time in a cage on your wrist [segolene]

It was a cloudy, chilly day in Chatoeil. The clouds overhead were gray and drab, the sun nonexistant, and people of the tow were hurrying to and fro huddled in scarves and lumpy overcoats. The gloomy weather echoed Jeremie's gloomy mood. He had done all he could to remove himself from the only town he had ever lived in and yet here he was, back in Chatoeil, back at his family's small little seaside home. His father was ill, very, very ill and his brother Jean-Louis had come to London himself to ask Jeremie to come back. The recent graduate had conceded even though he felt like he was giving up a piece of himself for it.

So here he was. Back in his hometown. Back on the streets he knew every inch of. His father was ill and Jeremie had spent time at his bedside before he couldn't stand it any longer. He was sure his father would get better, he had to. His father was the backbone of the family fishing business. Jeremie couldn't consider a possibility where his father wouldn't be there to lead it. He had gotten up to leave, grabbing a jacket on the way out, and placating his mother with an excuse that he was going to pick up a shift at Bessette's so they would have a least a few sickles for food over the next few days. It was difficult to feed your family when the main breadwinner wasn't working and Jeremie would much rather be working than beside his father with his mother hovering over him.

He was in luck that today, just like most weekends, Bessette's was pretty busy and the owners were happy to see him at least for the fact that he offered to help make the deliveries. He was used to the routes and the usual customers and had done a decent job over the last few years that he had worked there before graduating from Beauxbatons. He donned the Bessette's bakery hat with ease, levitated his stack of deliveries toward him and went out the back door of the bakery minutes later.

It was late afternoon now and he was glad to see he only had one delivery left. He arrived at a small apartment and poked his wand at the doorbell, waiting for the door to open, before he announced. "Delivery from Bessette's. Just need you to sign here," before he thrust a receipt in her direction.

@Ségolène Lereaux

Had it not been the weekend, Ségolène would have called in sick at work. After she had had a vision the day before the young witch had felt shaky and sick and although she hated it when she her special ability held her back like this, she had to rest today. It didn't help that the day was cloudy and chilly. The weather just made the headache worse.

Not having expected to stay at home all day, there was little food available but then again Ségolène didn't feel hungry at all. She had made herself tea and curled up on the sofa still wearing her pyjamas. She wanted to read but her headache made it impossible to focus her eyes on the lines and concentrate on the content.

While her ability to see the past of people she touched was special and interesting, the girl felt like it was a burden, a curse. Not for the first time she wished she was just like everybody else, that she was normal but she wasn't and no matter what she did, she couldn't change it. She tried to hide from people what she was, thinking it would make them tease or that it would shoo them away and leave her entirely alone.

She had fallen asleep sometime in the early afternoon, her last vision reoccurring in her dreams. The ring on the door woke her and she sat up quickly, feeling disoriented and dizzy. It took her a moment to understand where she was and that someone was apparently waiting on the other side of the door.

Ségolène walked to the door and opened it just a little bit to check who was there. The Bessette's bakery hat made her open the door a little more but she gave the younger wizard a rather puzzled look. "I haven't ordered anything?" the clairvoyant said confused. However, her stomach grumbled just at this very moment making her lower her gaze and feeling rather embarrassed.

Jeremie thought he something familiar in the blonde woman who opened the door, noticing the sleepiness in her eyes and feeling a little irritation that he hadn't been able to sleep away the afternoon. At her puzzled look and question, Jeremie could only shrug. "I'm just here to deliver the package," he answered without interest. He glanced to the side of the door and then at the receipt in his hand and looked back to her. It was the right address. He just wanted to deliver the package and be on his way.

"I just need you to sign here," he reiterated. "It's already paid for," he added, anticipating a question of cost. If someone had written down the wrong address at the shop, that wasn't on him. Besides it was his last delivery. He just needed to wrap this one up and then he would be free to go about something else that didn't remind him of his ill father or the fact that he might indefinitely be stuck in Chatoeil to provide for his family.

He probably wouldn't even care if she didn't sign her real name. Just a scribble and he would he out of there. He pushed the receipt toward her further, urging her silently to just sign the receipt, his hand brushing hers as he gave her the paper.

Ségolène frowned when the delivery boy just shrugged and didn't seem to care that she hadn't ordered anything, that he was wrong at her door. "But..." she started, shakind her head. "I haven't ordered anything..." her protest was quiet, not determined enough to really lead to anything. She looked at the young man and wondered if this was maybe some silly prank. She didn't want to argue now, all the young witch really wished to do was curling up on the sofa and sleeping.

She opened her mouth to protest again when the young man said where she had to sign. Seeing how he added that it had already been paid for, Ségolène decided, against her better judgement, that she'd sign the receipt and take the food. She was hungry, after all, and it was unlikely that the delivery boy would give in.

"Well, alright then," she muttered, feeling a little strange all the same.

As he pushed the receipt towards her, his hand brushed hers. It was like an electric shock. Ségolène wanted to retreat but it was already too late. The young witch was taken into a different scene - her surroundings were spinning and then her vision seemed to clear. She was standing on the top of a cliff. The delivery boy stood there, apparently ready to jump. Ségolène gasped, wanted to stop him but as she reached out her hand to hold him back he already jumped. She let out a shriek.

Her own scream brought her back into the present time. The witch felt how her legs were shaking, she was swaying. Her face was pale and sweaty. Her mouth felt dry and she heard a strange noise which she knew occurred regularly when she just had had a vision. Her gaze was strangely empty as she looked at the young man in front of her. She did not understand what she had just seen, had no idea what had happened with him in the past and why he was standing there now. Like a deer in the spotlight, she stood there, confused and unable to move away but shaking with exhaustion and fear.

Jeremie was relieved in a bored sort of way when she muttered an agreeance to signing the slip. One last delivery and he was done. He could nearly see himself hopping down the steps of her building and taking the shortcut back to Bessette's. But in that second that his hand touched hers to give her the receipt, he felt her jolt, heard her gasp, and watched as her eyes went glassy. There wasn't a lot of time for him to think. Everything seemed to slow down and speed up all at the same time.

"Are you oka--" he started to ask before she let out a shriek. The sound, raw and fierce, from her throat surprised him more than if she had punched him. He had no clue what was going on. She threw her arm out in front of her as if trying to warn him off. Or was she reaching for him? He wasn't sure and the distant look in her eyes wasn't a clue to what was going on anymore than anything else. He glanced behind her, next to her, trying to find some reason why she might have screamed like that. Like someone was in real danger. Jeremie didn't get it.

What the... he thought as he saw her swaying in the doorway, her face gravely pale. He reached a hand out to her, but then hesitated as he thought of her arm out, trying to push him away. His blue eyes made his way back to hers and it seemed like she wasn't even there. He frowned as he saw, "Are you alright? You look like you need to sit down," he told her honestly.

Ségolène heard his voice, first from seemingly far away and then close up. She blinked a few times, her sight faded back in and she saw the young man in front of her, a concerned look on his face. The young witch tried to take a deep breath but she felt still too tense to breathe calmly. She could feel that her skin was moist from sweat and brushed her hand over her forehead to wipe it off. How many times had she got through moments like that, how many times had she cursed her special ability...

With widened eyes the librarian looked at the delivery boy, he was very much alive so whatever she had seen a moment ago had not been quite as bad as it had felt during her vision. She realised that she was staring at him, that she was trying to figure out what exactly she had just witnessed. It also occurred to her that she had not given an answer yet. However, what could she say? She was clearly not okay and yet she could not say so. It was nothing she'd usually share with anyone. Having these visions was taxing and, what was almost the worst bit about it, she intruded the privacy of people she met.

"I'm..." her voice trailed off and she steadied herself by leaning against the door frame. "Yeah... I should... but..." Her brain was working slowly, too slow to allow her to speak a full sentence just now. Her lips felt dry and she was freezing now. She closed her eyes, trying to force herself to stay on her legs. She did not want to collapse in the doorway now but walking towards the sofa seemed like a challenge she could not muster just yet.

Jeremie continued to gaze at the blonde as she continued to stare back at him. But their expressions, the look in their eyes, he could guess weren't the same at all. Hers were wide, a little lost, with exhaustion dogging her features. His were cool, assessing, questioning. He watched with a detached interest as she tried to support herself against the door frame. Something was wrong with her, something maybe she hadn't expected? But she wasn't freaking out either so maybe it had happened before?

He glanced down at his shoes as he shoved an exhale through his nose, making his decision quickly. He could have been done his route five minutes ago, but that obviously wasn't an option anymore. In a spring of good conscience, he couldn't exactly leave her like this. Could he? He pushed the thought away as he had already decided to help her. Get her, at the very least, to her couch or something to lie down. Maybe a glass of water. Then he'd be out. That's what he promised himself. He always got wrapped up in other people's problems.

She was speaking slowly and Jeremie thought that if she couldn't get the words out, she'd probably not be able to manage getting her legs to work too. "I'm going to help you to your couch, okay?" he told her, moving slowly as he shifted the pastry box to one hand, stepped in through the doorway, and moved an arm around her back to support her. "I think you need to lie down," he told her, his voice quiet but confident as he felt her body against his side as he moved a few steps further into her home. He nudged the door shut with one foot and hoped that didn't send her into a panic. He just didn't want any other street thugs (although rare in Chatoeil) thinking a wide open door to a nice building was free for the taking. "Think a glass of water or something will help?" he asked her as they moved down the hallway together in a halting rhythm, going as slow as she needed to.

Ségolène did not like getting attention like that. She did not like being in the need of a helping hand either. However, when the young man asked if it was okay if he helped her to her couch the librarian nodded. She could hardly stay in the doorway until she felt up to moving again. Seeing how she was still recovering from the vision from the day before, this one now had clearly been too much for her.

As he put his arm around her back, Ségolène twitched and tensed. What if she'd end up having yet another vision? However, nothing happened this time. For someone who usually avoided even a handshake, it felt odd that a stranger put his arm around her though. Since it did not trigger a vision though, Ségolène relaxed at least a little and allowed him to lead her back into the flat. "Yes... I think I will," she muttered belatedly in response to his statement that she needed to lie down.

Feeling the warmth of his body against hers, the young witch wondered again what exactly she had seen earlier. He had jumped off a cliff and yet he was here now, helping her make the way towards the sofa. Could she ask him about it somehow? Without giving away what she had seen? Without admitting that she had intruded his past?

"Water is good," she whispered, not really thinking it would help much at all except that her mouth would not feel so dry anymore but not daring to say so. Water could at least do no further harm. There was not much but rest that could help anyway.

They walked slowly, her legs still felt shaky and what was worse than the sheer exhaustion was that she could not stop thinking about the vision. She could still see him jumping and it made her struggle. She had to find out what this vision was about before he'd leave her again...

Ségolène's mind was still only working slowly. She had a hard time walking and coming up with a clever thing to make him tell her about this particular past event.

As they reached the sofa, the young witch sank down on it. Relief that she was sitting, exhaustion and confusion felt so overwhelming now that tears ran down her face. "I'm sorry," she muttered and turned her gaze down, feeling utterly embarrassed.

"Do you know days like this?" She knew he probably didn't. She also knew that he probably had no idea what exactly she meant anyway and yet she hoped he'd say yes. It would make her feel less like an outcast.

Jeremie frowned as she flinched at his arm on her back. Maybe she was one of those ones who didn't like people in their space? Understandable and he wouldn't have done so if he thought she would have been able to make it to the sitting room on her own. She had nearly collapsed right in front of him. He wasn't exactly going to leave her laying on her foyer floor.. though the thought did occur to him. It just seemed like lately everyone else's problems were becoming his.

He nodded at the idea of water, noticing how weak and raspy her voice sounded. How totally different it was then how she sounded when she had first opened the door. It didn't make sense. Was she the type of girl who had random fainting spells? Obviously, he knew he was a good looking guy, but no one had ever fainted just at the sight of him with a delivery box from Bessette's. It was a first.

As he settled her onto the sofa, he brought his wand out and accioed a glass, pointing in a direction he thought was the kitchen. A moment later, after a little rumble of glass, a tall crystal cup floated toward him, and he grabbed it from the air. Summoning water with his wand, he filled the glass and then pushed open her palm for her to take it. That's when he noticed the tears. For Merlin's sake. Jeremie was not the kind of guy who was good with crying girls. And he knew it.

He stared at her for a beat before he glanced around hoping to find a tissue box. He accioed that over to him as well and pulled a few from the box as he said gruffly, "No need to apologize. Really." That wasn't further from the truth, but girls didn't like to be told that especially when they were upset. He had learned that the hard way. Her question made him frown and he shrugged. "I don't really know what you mean," he told her honestly. Days were he fainted at sight of a stranger? Days where he cried in his living room in front of someone he had just met? No, he couldn't say he had experienced all of that. Jeremie sighed then, a big breath through his mouth as he gazed at her from where he had been squatting in front of her. "Look, you don't have to apologize. I just... Are you alright? What happened?"

Ségolène felt like crying but she couldn't do that in front of a stranger, could she? Yet, tears had already filled her eyes. Why did this have to happen again and again? She liked to learn about the past but facing scenes from other people's past all of a sudden, without a warning, was not exactly what Ségolène enjoyed. Besides these visions always wore her down, made her feel sick and weak.

She sank onto the sofa and watched the delivery boy summon a glass and filling it with water. She took the crystal cup and and took a sip. Her mouth was dry as a river bed in the drought and now it the water filled the dry space before running down her throat. It was nicely cool and although it could not make the exhaustion go away it was still helping a little. She looked up at the young man gratefully. "Thanks," she whispered.

Apparently the delivery boy had noticed her tears as he now summoned a tissue box and offered her some. "Thank you," she muttered again.

He told her that there was no need to apologise but Ségolène did not believe him. No young man wanted to face a crying woman, even less a crying woman they didn't even know. While there was no attachment, of course, it was still awkward and definitely nothing the delivery boy wanted to see when doing his job.

Naturally he had no idea what she was talking about. She had expected nothing else but it was disappointing all the same. She looked at him with her reddened eyes when he asked what had happened and if she was alright. The anonymity tempted her to confide in him and yet she couldn't. She was afraid how he'd react to her confession that she had seen a private moment of his life.

"I'll be okay," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "It happens sometimes..." She bit her lips, shot him an apologetic smile and then took another sip of water. "I wish it didn't. Makes me want to... jump off a cliff if you know what I mean..." It was a feeble attempt to find out just a little bit about what she had seen in her vision. If the delivery boy picked up on this and offered the information she was hoping to hear from him.