[Paris] you and me, we could do anything ~ {Zara}

Diederik van Dijk had the perfect ring for Zara. Not too flashy, rather modest and traditional with a cute rose gold band and a pretty triple diamond across the top that reminded him of roses on one of those headbands she wore a few times. It wasn't gaudy, nor was it dainty. He believed it was just right, to him it screamed Zara. It was unique, like his girlfriend. It could even match her ballet shoes, but Didi's mind never really went there when he picked it out. It sat in a pretty white hinged box that he kept under his bed inside his old school trunk inside a shoe box inside a sock. There was no question no one would of known it was there, including Zara when she stayed over in his purposefully small space.

He picked it out the month prior and had been sitting on it patiently. He asked her family for his blessing to ask the question, and while her father made him a little uncomfortable with a strange look in his eye - he was given it. Granted if the wedding wasn't something like next month. Didi assured them he wasn't going to rush, his decision to marry their daughter was a pure, and final, decision. That was if she was going to say yes. Was he a little nervous? Yes - of course the wizard was. He had to chase Zara for a while before she stopped hiding from him. So there was a chance that she could turn around and flee from him. It was the reason for his past few attempts to fall off the wayside - he kept that box in his coat pocket during their dates like his life depended on it.

He did his best to be an honest boyfriend and an absolute gentleman to his beloved Zara since she agreed to date him, and eventually go steady with. The more he spent time with her, the more he felt she was the one. He adored her, in every way possible, including her quirks. So why wouldn't he ask her? He wasn't asking her to marry him tomorrow, just down the road ~ an agreement of sorts. He paced in his studio flat, opening and closing the white box, figuring out the most manly and yet graceful way to get himself down on a knee. Figuring out the best way to ask her. The best way to greet her.

"Zara," he talked to himself, clearing his throat, "Zara... will you ~" he held it out to no one in particular, "ergh," he was midway through his lunge when his pants decided it wasn't going to be working out. They were professional slacks, the kind that looked great with a suit jacket. He wasn't as flexible as his petit chou. Didi looked up at the clock, he was to meet her for dinner at one of the fancy restaurants that overlooked the Paris skyline. How could he afford such a treat? There was a reason his place was so tiny. He preferred to be out and about, with friends, family. It cost money to go on adventures. His quidditch salary was nice, but not as nice if he was on the team roster instead of a reserve. Basically, he didn't mind his small place, though now he had to think about two. He'd have to get a bigger space.

Nonetheless he got himself out of the half split he found himself in and buttoned up his lightly greyed checker striped white shirt, placing the box in his jacket pocket and apparated himself to the wizarding side of the skyline restaurant. "Reservation of two for van Dijk," he purred at the hostess, "my date will be on her way." He was lead to a table in the quiet section, overlooking the city, the tower in the background. Perfect. He sat himself down and ordered a bottle of wine. He'd done this a few times to Zara, taken her to a lovely place ~ all past attempts that he chickened out on, but he hoped it would still be a surprise. Maybe even more so because it was a strange occasional norm. The candle in the middle of the table flickered with glee, the sole thing to witness him running a hand through his hair before readjusting it and peaking at the little box once again. Everything would be okay. Surely. This was the evening.

When he saw Zara come toward him, he was in awe, like always. The butterflies in the former Pap's stomach fluttered, unable to keep themselves in line. The man stood up, waltzed himself around the table to pull out her chair. "Hello," he smiled at her, giving her a quick kiss. "Hope your day was grand." He sat himself down, the waitress poured the wine into their glasses and walked away, knowing it'd be a little bit of time before the two were ready to order.

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[member=20758]Zara Rousseau[/member] <3333

Zara was growing restless.

Her birthday had come and gone, so had Christmas and Valentine's Day and yet, no proposal. While she was a strong, independent and modern woman, there was something a little…uncomfortable about proposing to a man. They were at that point now. They had to be. Diederik was definitely "The One", whatever that entailed. He was smart and handsome and ever so patient when she had one of her meltdowns and he deflected her crying fits with the grace of a conductor; no other man she'd ever dated had managed to soothe her in such a way.

Zara didn't bother to leave a note for Prosper. Why? Because she had no idea where he was. He was so frustrating. He'd begged her to move into the warehouse with him, despite her scholarship offering a room and food included. He hadn't told her that he'd turn it into a party house. The ballerina was bored at finding glitter in her bed and confetti in the bath tub. She didn't like it when he brought people she didn't know over. She didn't like it when he left, like he was prone to doing, for far flung places and never let her know where. All she got was the occasional post card and his half of the rent. Two weeks late.

In the mirror, Zara shook her head. No. She wasn't going to let Prosper ruin date night because he'd ruined too many others. She dragged a brush through her long blonde hair with too much force, driven by anger as she winced in response. Prosper was too wild for this world and he didn't want to be tamed. As much as she adored him, he needed to realise that he had real world obligations. Zara was willing to bet that he didn't lie awake at night, stressing over the fact that both sets of parents had gathered together a substantial amount of money to help them buy the loft space.

Zipping up her dress, she pushed her loose curls over her shoulder, applied a deep shade of lipstick and left for the bright lights of the nicer part of Paris.

Zara didn't even have to wait long before she saw him. It wasn't difficult because she'd know Diederik's silhouette in the dark. "Hello," she replied with a smile, cupping the side of his cheek as she kissed him back. There was the familiar flutter in her tummy, a rush of adrenaline that was better and deeper than a ride on a rollercoaster. She wondered if he had good news. Zara hoped he'd brought her out to this restaurant to tell her that he'd been promoted to first string because Heaven knew he deserved it.

"Thank you," she said gently as the chair was pulled out for her, enjoying the surge of affection towards Diederik at his gentlemanly gesture. "Eh," Zara replied eloquently as she shrugged her shoulders, pulling the wine glass towards her. "My day was fine," she added, deciding against telling him that she'd slipped off the barre in class and landed heavily on her left foot; it wasn't exactly sexy dinner conversation.

"But this is gorgeous," Zara said to Diederik softly, pulling her eyes away from her boyfriend's face and giving into temptation to look at the world famous skyline. "How did you know this was my favourite view?" The ballerina asked with a warm smile, reaching across the table and gently interlinking her fingers with his. He was only on the other side of the table but it felt like miles away. "You look very smart," she told him genuinely, not surprised but definitely impressed.

Diederik's eyes sparkled, he was genuinely excited, nervous, anxious, happy, feeling a little sick, and feeling like he could float. "I am glad you like it," it wasn't difficult to get a reservation when he was a quidditch professional. It was just a simple exchange. Nonetheless he'd do anything for the woman in front of him, even climb a mountain if he needed to. He was her biggest fan. If there was anything the reserve beater knew, it was that being famous and adored by hundreds of people didn't matter to him. Nah, he just wanted to be adored by his loved ones. If Zara adored him, then his world was complete. He'd be happy. He was happy. He hadn't been upset since Volker made a surprise visit to be all 'tada I am not dead'.

Looking smart? "I ironed my shirt," he wiggled his eyebrows for a brief second. He recently learned that household charm. Why they didn't teach such things at Beauxbatons was beyond him. "You look stunning," he smiled. She was always stunning whether she was in a fancy dress, in his jersey or t-shirt... or not wearing anything. "Who knew there was a spell for that," he lightly laughed, "I ironed my entire closet yesterday." Maybe the suit jacket was too much? Was it a giveaway? He wanted it to be a surprise. Diederik eyed the ceiling briefly before the waitress returned, rattling off today's soups and specialty meals.

He flipped open the menu, briefly scanning it before peaking over to Zara. "What would you be having?" Not that it mattered, as he knew what he wanted. He waited for Zara to order her meal before he stated his, "I will have the Chicken Scaloppini, and a glass of water too please." The waitress took the menus and wandered off. He could feel her gaze, but he kept his focus on the lovely lady in front of him at the quant quiet table overlooking the city. It felt perfect. He couldn't second guess his decision now because they were already into the fray of his plans. The other dinner guests a ways away provided quiet ambient noise, an occasional laugh, occasional clink of glasses or silverware. It was relaxing.

"There's a great deal I need to tell you," Diederik began briefly knowing he had to be patient. "I'll be looking for a new flat in the area," he smiled, "one that has a separate bedroom and living room." He let out a small laugh, knowing too well how small his studio flat was that only allowed a bed, a couch, a coffee table... but at least it had a snazzy fireplace to keep it warm in the winter months. It was cluttered, mostly because of its size. He didn't have a whole lot of items with him, a lot of his things still lived at his parents home. "I'll have to get more furniture...." and more storage space. He didn't really have much of a sense of décor, and he knew that, "maybe you can help me pick some new stuff out?" He would also need to upgrade his bed, so she could fit in it too without them both feeling claustrophobic.

The Dutch continued, "and, my parents have invited you to celebrate spring in the Netherlands if you are interested. A weekend long affair of family, light picnic food, outdoor activities and crafts..." he trailed off. It was a tradition their family did when the children would come home for spring break during their school years. His sister was still in school, and he had cousins. He'd love to see his sister.

It took a great deal for Diederik to be patient, the box in his pocket felt like it weighed thousands. Good things happened to those who waited. He'd continue his adventure he had planned for them after they were finished with their food.

@Zara Rousseau

"Congratulations," Zara said about him ironing his shirt. Her tone was cool but there was a hint of a smile curling the line of her lips as she looked out of the window and onto the twinkling city lights. It must be rough for Moldus, she thought. If she wanted a good view, all she had to do was levitate or apparate onto a higher place. As Diederik said she looked nice, she offered him a smile. "Thank you." She knew she looked good, duh, but her parents raised her to accept a compliment. There was nothing more unattractive than dismissal of one.

"The aubergine and sweet potato cassoulet, please," Zara told the waitress. As the other woman lingered for a second too long, the ballerina arched an eyebrow and shot her a look that clearly said keep moving, bitch.

"Oh?" Zara asked, lighting up to hear that Diederik was moving. She did like his apartment but it was the other side of the city and it was fairly small, it could barely fit all of her make up and clothes and all she ever took was a weekend bag. "Which arrondissement?" She asked with a tilt of her head. As he laughed, she followed suit. He wasn't wrong. Zara wasn't particularly tall but he was and she often found herself sleeping in whatever gap he made with his arms. She wasn't too bothered because she had a tendency of sort of sleeping on top of him but a bigger, softer bed would be nice.

Zara waited a second, hoping Diederik would take the opportunity to ask if she wanted to move in. But when it didn't come, she smiled. "Sure," she said brightly, only a little bit nettled. She and Prosper did a pretty good job of transforming their warehouse. They'd made the bare brick seem charming, with splashes of colour and carefully placed mirrors to maximise space. It wouldn't really be a wrench to leave; Prosper hadn't been there for months. In fact, her boyfriend had sort of moved in in his absence. She was too busy with school. She'd much prefer a small bijoux apartment, all cream and white with high ceilings and a balcony. If Diederik was looking for somewhere to live, she should probably do the same.

The logical place to look for furniture would be Les Puces, the huge flea market. Zara had only been once and she hadn't touched anything. Goodness knew who had coughed on anything but she loved him enough that if he wanted to go, she'd go with him. She'd just carry more hand sanitiser.

The mention of outdoors and nature made Zara's smile dip just a little but she caught it just in time. She'd gone camping once with her family and she woke up with a spider in her hair and she vowed she'd never go again. "That'd be nice," Zara told Diederik gently. She really liked his family and she was flattered that they were extending an invitation to her. And she knew she'd enjoy herself. She was uptight and a bit precious but she would always try, especially for him. She loved a picnic. She nodded, her heart swelling with affection as she squeezed his hand. "I'd love to. Do I need to bring anything?" Like bug repellent or a different personality.

The dishes were placed down and the waitress seemed to have learned her lesson. Zara, for the first time in years, was eating a complete carbohydrate. She wasn't sure if Didi knew about hers and Prosper's crazy dieting and eating schedule. Well, Prosper not so much, considering he'd jacked it all in and ran off to join the circus or whatever the hell was doing. Zara was feeling crazy. She might even order dessert.

From the first bite, she knew she'd made a great decision. "Oh my God," she whispered quietly as her eyes widened and she proceeded to forget her manners and shovel another forkful into her face. It wasn't particularly ladylike but then again, she didn't particularly care. As if it couldn't get any better, the meal came with bread. Zara gave an excited squeak as she dunked it into the sauce. "I love you," she told Diederik seriously. "But this is just -- " taking another bite, she closed her eyes and nodded, making the universal "okay" symbol with her index finger and thumb to form a circle.