{ berlin } undefined/elegant { klaus }

Finally, it was summer.

Gabrielle didn't have a strong preference either way for seasons; she enjoyed the sunnier months and preferred winter fashion. But summer meant summer break, which translated to an escape from the somewhat exhausting monotony of high school. Later this month she was going to visit Donatella in Italy, and she'd already seen friends in Paris several times for things like shopping and coffees and already a couple of parties hosted by older students. Of course, summer also came with obligatory family time. The blonde had tried to organise staying with Fleur and Bill away from her parents, but she hadn't had much luck just yet. Instead, her mother had organised a girls' weekend away in Germany. The youngest Delacour would have much preferred to be here with just her sister.

Berlin might have an interesting history, but it was an ugly city. Gabrielle didn't appreciate the old, blocky buildings straight out of the seventies or the construction work that seemed to be happening all the time. Museums didn't interest her in a more-than-superficial way, and her family was irritatingly interested in exploring the hundreds this city seemed to have. Though she supposed that half of the things were closed for repair or reconstruction anyway. Fleur and Apolline had spent the evening wandering around in one, first through the muggle section and then through the wizarding section through an archway hidden from muggles with a few simple charms. Gabrielle had left them in there fifteen minutes ago, annoyed by the looks three part-veela women drew in crowded spaces and bored by the contents of the museum.

Now she was outside, where the sun was just beginning to set. The old churches and museums in this area were much prettier than the area of Berlin the trio were staying in. Gabrielle walked slowly alongside the river, pale eyes drawn up to the old, ornate buildings set against a pink-tinged sky. The old and reconstructed statues of angels and things put her at ease; she felt at home amongst such art. Even the odd, gaudier bear statue didn't make her want to roll her eyes so hard. Her outfit reflected the weather; it had been a warm and sunny day today, so she was clad in a feminine, floral dress with floaty off-the-shoulder sleeves and some understated sandals. Her hair was loose, falling in soft waves around her shoulders and catching the slowly-disappearing last rays of daylight. She also had a bag; she needed her wand on her so that her mother and sister would be able to find her easily.

These were the sorts of days Klaus loathed the most – when his parents insisted he spend time with his brother. It was hot out, the summer sun beating down on them with fervor. He’d had money stuffed into his hands with an insistence of “it”ll be good for you both”, and was forced to promise that he would look out for the younger boy. He was instructed not to leave Jakob alone – lest he wanted to receive the wrath of an angry, worried mother. Then, after the longest lecture of the summer, she reminded both boys to be on their best behaviour and pressed mulberry kisses to their heat-reddened cheeks. A heavy sigh penetrated the balmy air as Klaus continued to wipe at his jowl, though the mark was long gone.

“I don’t wanna be here with you either, y’know,” his petulant little brother said, movements stiff and mechanical.

Klaus stifled a yawn. “You’re welcome to go home. I’d be happy to leave. We can tell mother we got bored. She’ll coddle and baby you like she always does and I can go to my room.” The dark-haired Schafer was met with silence and he rolled his eyes.

They continued on their way until they were at a large building, old and tall with intimidating arching columns and an overabundance of windows. None of this was his idea of a good time but it was what Jakob had been insistent on, and so they entered to view different types of art – Jakob often with admiration, and Klaus often with subdued judgement. He raised his gaze from a particularly drab sculpture and was surprised to catch a glimpse of long almost fluorescent hair. He blinked twice to prove to himself that his eyes were betraying him, but the girl was soon gone. It couldn’t be, but the pit in his stomach told him that he would remain unsatisfied until he checked for himself.

“You,” he beckoned to the younger boy who shuffled over from the statue with sulking shoulders and indignation in his eyes. “Go… do something.” Klaus reached into his pocket for money and handed it to Jakob, whose frustrated stare quickly brightened into a happier, warmer gaze. They exchanged a look, an unspoken vow that if he prattled on to mother Klaus would surely make him regret it. Jakob’s expression left him with no worries, however. They could both be granted the freedom they craved; what their parents didn’t know would not hurt them. Klaus watched him for only a few seconds to ensure that he found his way through the crowd of people, then turned to face the exit where he was sure he’d seen that shock of all-too-familiar ethereal glowing hair.

She didn’t deserve him coming after her, seeking her out to speak to her. Even as the thought crossed his mind and he internally fluctuated, contemplating following behind Jakob, his feet ordered him forward towards the exit. Gabrielle Delacour was a bad habit he couldn’t quit.

Outside, sure enough, lit like sun, was the hair of a quarter veela. They hadn’t spoken in a year – longer? Her aura was still a touch overwhelming – sort of unsettling – but Klaus slid quietly next to her with cool ease. He sat on the sidewalk, a bored expression settling on his face. “The world is too small.” He spoke it like an inconvenience.

Gabrielle slowed to a stop, resting her hands delicately on the railing, one on top of the other. Her hair fluttered gently around her shoulders as she cast her gaze out at the building across the river. Her thoughts were distant; underneath the general impatience for her sister and mother to finish looking at boring pieces of history that they'd learned about years ago, there was a greater sort of impatience that she couldn't quite figure out. Perhaps it would be better described as restlessness. She'd thought - hoped, really - that the feeling might dissipate with the onset of summer, but while she was glad for the reprieve from school, when she wasn't out, she was bored. And boredom could be a dangerous thing, she thought.

She turned when he slid in next to her, a well-practiced mixture of politeness and wariness in her gaze. It wouldn't have been the first time she'd been accosted by a muggle around here, or the first time she'd turned an eager suitor away. This trip had been fraught with experiences that drew cold, enduring smiles and rolled eyes. It was an inevitable by-product of spending time in public with the female members of her family. But it wasn't a muggle whose eyes she met as she turned. Her eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, though she was belatedly glad she had a rather blank expression on her pretty face. She maintained it with little effort. It always annoyed him when he couldn't read her. It annoyed her a little that that was her first thought.

"Klaus," she said, as some kind of greeting. I haven't seen you in a while, seemed too familiar for someone whose social life she'd intentionally demolished. Almost saccharine. She looked down at him literally and figuratively, examining him for a moment. Her eyes skimmed his features like an old book she'd read many times but hadn't picked up for a while. He looked older than last time she'd paid him any attention. Older, but not taller, she noted. The blonde remembered his diminutive stature and girlish hands being sore points for the boy years ago and it made her feel a little smug now, whether those things remained relevant or not. Gabrielle looked back out across the water, unwilling to give him any more of her attention. "I forgot you lived in this country," she lied smoothly.

The situation reminded her of the summers of their early days in school. There was something nostalgic about that picture. They'd been friends from the start; circumstance had thrown their little group together. Naturally the social dynamic of the group had started to diverge a couple of years in and there had been a strange transitional period with her and Klaus that consisted of the pair seeing each other mostly during breaks and the odd weekend in Chatoeil, and more or less ignoring each other during class or around school. Then of course he'd kissed her, Max had punched him, she'd ruined his social reputation and then hadn't spoken to him since. She honestly hadn't wanted to.

...Mostly.

"Family museum day for you too?" she asked, a touch of sarcasm in her polite tone. It hadn't escaped Gabrielle that he'd come over to her. She wondered what it was he wanted.

What would her reaction be to his approach? He hated it, but whenever they spoke again after a period of stagnancy, there was always a nagging curiosity that desired to know how she felt about it all. He wanted to look at her, catch her facial expression or a hint of something in her body language. However, it was pointless. Klaus knew that regardless as to whether she felt any sort of stir by his presence, she would never make it known if he had an effect on her. She was too composed, too unmoving.  There was scarcely ever a crack in the perfectly crafted facade she wore.

As if to prove his point, she spoke with apathy, eyes not meeting his. A corner of his mouth pulled up in a slight smile, though he simultaneously felt the urge to roll his eyes – as was often the case when they were together. “You mean you didn’t come all the way to Berlin to see me?” He replied in mock-disbelief, counterfeit offense bordering his tone. She’d probably come here to see her stupid boyfriend, or whatever he was. Was he German? Klaus didn’t remember, and the fact that he was even thinking about it bothered him. The Ombrelune exhaled and leaned back, fingers twitching. He craved a cigarette to take the edge off; it was another bad habit he had acquired, and one that he much preferred.

He could see the humour in her words. Although she didn’t mean them, it was indeed ‘family museum day’. Jakob was probably somewhere quietly being shuffled around in a crowd. Klaus just hoped that he didn’t get lost. That would be a pain.

“No, I just spend my days on the island hoping that you’ll eventually show up,” he retaliated, trying to curb the annoyance that sliced at the edges of his words. He felt impatient. There was always this weird routine of theirs: friendly terms, fighting, distance, reunion, repeat. It was not lost on him that he was always the initiator of said reunions. He found himself constantly testing the waters, building his way up to conversation until it became apparent they were okay, and then easily falling back into their schedule. Why?

He spared her a sideways glance and noticed a pair of earrings she was wearing. Last year there had been a rumour that Frank had bought them for her as some sort of sex offering. Klaus scoffed. “Someone’s not a prude anymore.”

The sun was setting slowly, its midsummer rays casting a golden glow over the groups of tourists outside enjoying the weather. The museums would be shutting soon, she thought distantly, allowing herself to be distracted while he spoke. She didn't roll her eyes or quirk an eyebrow at his comment, giving nothing away. As much as he'd hate to admit it, people like Klaus thrived on attention just as much as everyone else.

In fact, she could sort of sense the agitated energy behind his words, his actions. She'd always had so much more composure than him. "I'm afraid not," she replied, the mock-emotion in her voice almost convincing if not for the context. He seemed impatient to get to the inevitable punch line of their interactions, the part where things either fell apart and their casual mockery of each other turned cruel, or where they sided together and put off the former another day. In turn, Gabrielle was being intentionally unreadable, refusing to sway one way or the other. Always opposing forces.

She looked at him as a light breeze gently tussled her hair, annoyed both by what he'd said and the fact that he'd probably be able to tell that he'd annoyed her. Like everyone else, it seemed, Klaus Schäfer was obsessed with her love life and almost immediately, she was aware of the duality of her feelings about that fact. The coldness she wanted to treat him with was very real, stemmed from genuine dislike and discomfort, but there was something else there too, of course. "Is it prudish to only sleep with people you want to?" she mused coolly, intentionally underlining the sentence with an implicit and I didn't want to sleep with you.

So he still paid attention, then. No surprises there; why wouldn't he obsess over her from afar? Gabrielle didn't deign to examine the way that she enjoyed the confirmation. The blonde did wonder why he'd brought it up though. Was this something to do with Frank? With Max? A part of her wanted to know what he'd heard. Then again, another part of her wanted to walk away now; it was so typical of him to use this as a weapon against her. Her choices, her wants, her sexuality.  She hated that part. The blonde tucked a stray strand of hair behind one ear, calmly directing those thoughts away.

"I don't know what you're talking about anyway," she said, her pride keeping her from asking the question directly.

The jab, though ignored, had hit a nerve. A younger version of him might have visibly recoiled somehow - inhaled sharply or stepped forward. Klaus managed to remain composed physically, but he could not (and did not try to) bite back the malice that framed the tenor of his voice. “Singing a different tune than you were in that tent.” She had told him to stop, but if he had been more patient, how far would they have gone? What else would he know about Gabrielle Delacour? He was beyond the point of wondering much; the ammo he’d been equipped with had felt like enough to make up for the part of him that hadn’t been satisfied. Perfect Gabby didn’t have the perfect life; then he recalled her ‘family’ comment earlier. Was she here with her parents? Had they resolved things? Would his comments seem insignificant now? Were they back to being a perfect picture or was that all it was – a counterfeit image to hide the flaws? His interest was suddenly piqued, but he didn’t speak.

Klaus felt like his mind always had to move at twice the speed when he was with Gabrielle. In his head turned the different cogs: one that was focused on both of their reactions; another that tucked away anything she said that he deemed useful; one that begrudgingly still sought to impress; and the most diligent of them all that was constantly trying to decipher new ways to get under her skin the way she got under his. It bothered him more than he liked to admit that he wanted to know if it was the same for her. Was she hyper-aware of what she said around him now? Did he keep her on her toes? Her response to his comment seemed to hint at this possibility, and it made him feel smug.

He stood up abruptly, wordlessly. There was a temptation to leave. They had barely said anything to each other, but it would prove to her (and him) that he didn’t need to be around her. He could get bored of her. He could leave without going in a fit of rage. He could quit her. Instead, Klaus leaned in close and tapped the earring softly so that it swung like a pendulum.

A part of her always wished him away. He'd followed her out here, hadn't he? He'd been the one to interrupt her solitary walk as she waited for her sister and mother. Shoo, she thought dismissively, watching him out of the corner of her eye as she pretended to look out at the water. Another part of her, of course, enjoyed the banter. Most of the time. Sometimes it got too personal. Too mean. Not too mean to deal with - mind you - just too mean to be as enjoyable. Something had changed that time in their third year, she thought. It had been volatile ever since.

Gabrielle met his eyes as he spoke this time, surprised by the bite in his tone. "Oh, really?" she asked coldly. People didn't usually speak to her like this; her heart beat quickly in her chest. On the outside, however, she did her best to maintain well-practised, polished composure. "Was this the part where I reminded you I had a boyfriend? Or the part where I had to physically stop you?" Gabrielle quirked an eyebrow, but didn't give him a chance to respond. "Don't worry about it Klaus, that's ancient history." Then, more condescendingly, "I forgive you."

She watched him warily as he got to his feet, didn't flinch as he moved in and touched her earring. Yes, a lot had changed in the past few years. They were almost adults now - six months and she'd be able to do magic outside of school. Only two months for him. She watched him carefully, her expression both thoughtful and unreadable.

spoiler: ay a little bit of crass language here

I forgive you. Klaus’ eyes narrowed as he retracted his hand. “I’m not sorry.” His speech was charged with a bitterness, the intonation saturated in venom. He could tell that she was toying with him, pushing back with the patronisation that she knew he detested. Although he had taken the bait, his anger flaring up as it often did when she put on that condescending voice, there was a part of him that still felt it necessary to remind her – there was no remorse in what he’d said or done. No, he wasn’t sorry.

His brain worked again to assess the ways in which he could take the upper hand. The unending battle for power. If it could even be named such; it wasn’t much of a battle when she held most of the wins and the people’s favour, was it? There was only so much Klaus could say now that she’d shut him out. Still, after the ire dissolved from his face, brow smoothing and jaw unclenching, Klaus smirked and crossed his arms. “So a pair of earrings is all it takes to fuck?” he asked, finally giving the question away. “Gabrielle,” he said, feigning disappointment. “Don’t you think you’re worth a little bit more than that? Give yourself some credit.”

Gabrielle resisted the urge to roll her eyes, knowing that doing nothing at all would frustrate him more than reacting. She took some kind of cold satisfaction in seeing him get more angry, especially when he was trying to rile her up.

“My sister is probably wondering where I am,” she said, leaning just a little too far into the gracious tone of her voice, the mock-concern in her expression. She moved back from the rail, tucked some stray strands of hair behind one ear. He infuriated her to no end, but it was worth it in moments like this when he got emotional, and she got to walk away.

“Lovely to see you though,” she said. This one was a little colder. Gabrielle gave him a cool smile and then turned and walked away from where they’d been standing, feeling her heart beating in her chest, pleased that her composure had been maintained.