[paris] changing of the seasons. [tag; sylvain]

"the door is open" you whisper to me
as you stood frozen, deep in in uncertainty.

Lyra was lost.

Then again, Lyra was always lost. It didn't matter that Paris had been her home for the better part of six months. She'd taken the Metro once (and only once) so now she walked most places. With a frown, she glanced at a map and then at the street signs that didn't match. It was a rabbit warren of alleyways and back lanes, twisting and turning like veins to a heart. But she was going to be fine. She still had half an hour before her appointment.

It was a bitter pill to swallow but the petite blonde soon realised that she couldn't afford to rent a place of her own on her own. It took the shine off her big grand idea of taking scenic walks, drinking coffee and wearing sunglasses. She'd actually seen a rat that morning and almost had a heart attack.

It was a chilly morning as she walked quickly, the rubber holes of her trainers she wore bouncing over the worn cobbles, a soft pale pink scarf wrapped around her neck so only the pink tip of her button nose was showing. Meeting people wasn't really Lyra's strong point; she was often nervous and fidgety but she was only going to take a quick look. She wasn't even sure if the other person had signed the lease or not. In reality, she didn't think she'd see her future flatmate that often. She assumed he or she would be working long hours. She could only hope a nice single man might move in and have some nice single friends.

Lyra checked her watch as her legs quickened as she crossed a road, adjusting her battered old leather satchel that held all of her Parisian essentials; an umbrella, a pen, a packet of tissues, sand sanitiser and lipstick. Lyra was taking to big city living like a duck to water.

Looking up, she counted the numbers on the vast building as the sunshine filtered through the crowds. The sounds of the city were quieter in this street. The noise of trundling traffic, delivery vans, horns and chatter seemed somewhat muffled as she walked down the tree lined street. The first thing that struck her was that this was the Paris everyone dreamed about. A pale brown Haussmann-renovated apartment building, trees, cute cars parked on the road; a post card.

Checking her map, she stopped and squinted up at the apartment building. It had a door that was painted in the palest shade of duck egg blue and Lyra and she gave a soft sigh of longing. This was it, her new home, and it didn't matter if she hadn't seen inside yet.

There was someone with her back to her on the top of the four stone stairs that lead to the front door. A flicker of excitement flooded her body. He was tall, dressed smartly and subconsciously, Lyra fluffed her hair and quickly applied a slick of lipstick. Prospective flatmate or not, she didn't want him realising she was a bridge troll just yet. Clearing her throat, she stepped forward. "Hello!" She called brightly with a grin as she hopped up the stairs. "I'm Lyra. Nice to meet you --"

He turned and her heart dropped through her stomach. She left her hand hanging in the air between them as the last year of Beauxbatons came screaming back to her; the closeness,the wedding, the fight, the fall out, that kiss. It seemed colder as the wind whipped up from nowhere, the tree branches rustling. Of all the doorsteps in all of the world, he had to be standing on hers. "Hi?" This had to be a cosmic joke. 


@Sylvain Chéret

Sylvain was pretty much homeless at the moment. He would rather sleep under the bridges of Paris than to go back to Nice to his mother and the sofa in his father's small flat proved to be a place where he didn't want to be either. It was not that he actually disliked the new woman in his father's life. He deserved to be happy even if it was hard for Sylvain to make this concession. However, he could not bear being in a flat in which his father enjoyed his love life and gave him the impression that he was in his way.

The Ombrelune graduate tried to look ahead, tried to accept that he was now responsible for himself and that he could not dream of living together with his father in the muggle world anymore. He was not a muggle and he was not a child either. It was time for him to live his own life and he wanted a happy life after all the struggles of the past.

Since his work life was divided between the acting job he loved and the job at the ministry that he despised, Sylvain wanted to have a home he could retreat to that was not just a small and shabby apartment but a nice flat in a good area of Paris. After all, if he wanted to live a happy life he needed a place he could invite people (read: a girl) to without feeling ashamed.

The flat he had chosen to take a closer look at was unfortunately too expensive for him to rent alone. He'd have to either win in the lottery or find a flat mate. The latter was probably the more likely prospect to get his dream flat.

He was there now, standing in front of the door, looking smart in his dark blue coat on top of the light blue-grey suit and wearing his best Italian leather shoes. He thought, looking at the door that he looked already like the owner of the place, fitting quite nicely to it colour wise. He ran his hand through his already dishevelled hair, thinking that the slightly messy style worked in his favour.

A voice cut into the common street noise of the rather quiet side street in Paris and Sylvain turned around, feeling somewhat caught in the act of something. Lyra? What on earth was she doing here? A confused expression spread across his face and Sylvain felt how his chances to get the flat were getting smaller. He had been prepared to lie and woo the agent but with her present he could hardly make up too much without having to fear that Lyra would give him away.

They hadn't seen since graduation and even during their last months at school Sylvain had avoided Lyra, thinking that she was the one not wanting to see him. He had liked her, actually more than liked her, and it had hurt his feelings that she had not wanted him. However, the young wizard was a new man. Well, he was a man now, not just a little student. He straightened up a little, trying to remind himself of his role as an adult. He told himself once again that he was looking ahead now and that the past lay behind him.

The confused expression was replaced by a relaxed smile. Being an actor enabled him to conceal his true feelings if necessary and now was definitely one of these moments when it came in handy. “Lyra! What a pleasant surprise to see you. Don't tell me that you're here for the flat as well.” He took a step down the stairs, gave her a brief little hug and three kisses on the cheek. Then he held her at arms' length and looked at her, still smiling. “Now look at you! You're looking great. I hope life is treating you well.”

Did it treat her well enough to afford the rent of this flat, Sylvain wondered. How could she possibly earn enough money after just a few months out of school? Maybe she was in the same position as he was himself… In that case… No, he could hardly ask her to share the flat with him or could he? He wouldn't mind, of course. In fact he had never really stopped liking her and he realised that now that he looked at her again after all these months.

I decided against introducing the agent at this point so Lyra can react to Sylvain and the agent can come out of the house then to lead them in.

He was wearing a suit. Should she have worn one, too? Dressed up in any way shape or form? Lyra was frozen to the spot and acutely aware of her jeans and her jumper in comparison to his outfit. Her bright eyes widened as the sunlight hit his face and she was shunted back twelve months. He was looking at her the same way now as he had then; confused and disappointed.

Stunned and in a daze, Lyra let herself be kissed and greeted, only managing to get her shit together to lean very briefly into it. Why did he sound so weird? So forced? So..grown up? "I just --" she began, her cheeks flushing. "I was --" she stammered, her head spinning as her blood felt cold in her veins. Her perfect flat was now out of reach. Sylvain was going to snatch this cute little apartment out from underneath her. A very childish part of her wanted to tank the viewing to make sure he didn't get it because if she didn't have it, then no one would.

Sylvain then confirmed he wanted the flat and her heart dropped into her stomach. She managed a very unconvincing smile as she nodded, not really trusting herself to speak. You're looking great. He was lying. She looked like a ragdoll.  Lyra squinted at him, trying to figure out who or what had taken over his body. She knew they weren't friends but this was painful. He was treating this as a business transaction and it didn't matter if that was what it was meant to be. They'd kissed, for crying out loud. Not that long ago, she'd wanted to crawl into bed with him and now he'd had a personality transplant.

"It's going well," the petite blonde said briefly and vaguely as she focused on his coat lapels. His clothes matched the front door. Again, this entire thing was a cosmic joke. "You?" She asked politely but not really wanting to hear about his life and who he was dating. "How's your -- " she was about to ask about his mum after she'd married @Maximilien Manet 's dad but she bit down on the inside of her lip. She hadn't really seen Max since the last time she'd seen Sylvain and once-familiar subjects were now off limits. The wedding was now a foggy, wine-soaked disaster. Every once in a while, she remembered details, like how Sylvain was wearing a pink short or the way his hands felt in hers when they danced. It kept her up at night. Neither young man had chosen her and she was well aware she'd lost both of them by not taking a chance.

Was this toxic, entertaining the idea of living with someone who might be "the one that got away"? The fact that she was even asking herself that question had given her the answer; yes, it was. Lyra glanced at Sylvain briefly, wondering what he was doing now. He'd mentioned her joining the Ministry after graduation like he'd wanted to do but Lyra couldn't bear a desk job and she felt like she'd disappointed him when she admitted that.

But she could do this. There wasn't even any guarantee that she'd secure a room here but it was close to work, close to bars and shops, close to everything she needed. It could be her home, her sanctuary, but she'd never planned on having him sleep next door. God, she hoped the walls weren't thin.

Realising she was staring, her eyes snapped forward as the door opened to reveal a middle aged lady with red hair and bright lipstick. Lyra smiled brightly as she extended her hand. "Hi, I'm Lyra," she introduced herself, the agent shaking her hand but her eyes were on Sylvain and it didn't take a genius to work out why - he was hot. Standing there like a lemon as they chatted amongst themselves, she stood on her tiptoes as she tried to see past the woman and caught a glance at the old marbled floor and her heart skipped a beat as a tingle of excitement pumped through her. Problems with Sylvain or not, she had to have this apartment.

She didn't like him. She did not want him there. These thoughts came to Sylvain's mind as he greeted her. Her eyes told him that or so he thought at least. He kept his smile though, thinking that he could not slip out of his role just yet. Admittedly, playing a role on stage when everybody was acting was easier than playing a role in front of someone who was so real and so sweet as Lyra.

He wanted her to offer him a sincere smile that he would then return gratefully. However, Lyra seemed tense, insecure and certainly not as though she was happy to see him. Truth be told, he would have preferred a different moment to see her again as well but he was still pleased to see that she was overall doing well and he suppressed a sigh when he thought of how he had once dreamed of her to become his girlfriend. He realised that he missed spending time with her, missed their conversations and her cute clumsiness.

Lyra wasn't talkative and that was fine, of course. This was not the place and time to catch up properly but Sylvain would still have liked to hear her voice for more than these few words she spoke to him. She confirmed that she was fine but this could as well just be a set phrase. He couldn't know. Apparently she wanted to enquire about someone and Sylvain assumed it was @Maximilien Manet but she stopped mid sentence. It had always been Maximilien who interfered without even being present though. He was sure that Lyra still had a crush on his step brother. It felt as though someone was stabbing him right into his heart and his smile faded.

Fortunately, the door swung open now, preventing the two young graduates from a long and awkward silence. Sylvain renewed his smile at once. When he was in his role he could charm women of any age. When he was himself though he was a failure. A proof of this was Lyra. She had not fallen for the true Sylvain although she had had the privilege to know him. There was no time to dwell on this now anyway.

“Sylvain,” he introduced himself to the agent, “Sylvain Chéret.” He took her hand and blew a kiss on it. The woman smiled in response to his galant greeting and after confirming that she was indeed the agent, Anne Galliard, led them inside.

“This place is beautiful...” Sylvain breathed in admiration. “Isn't it, Lyra?” He only briefly turned to look at her as he asked for her confirmation before turning to the agent again. The woman told him some facts about the flat, its size, the year in which it was built, the year when it had last been refurbished and then dropped some information that made Sylvain freeze.

“You know, the owner of this place has his own ideas as to who he wants to live here. He has made some bad experience with renters sharing a flat. He says that they don't maintain the place as they should. He insists on letting the place to a couple.” The agent smiled at Sylvain and seemed to be overly curious to get a response to this statement.

It took Sylvain only an instant to find himself a new role to play – he was a young man who was madly in love now. “Oh,” he said, chuckling and averting his gaze in an almost playful manner. He knew he could pull this off but he was playing with an unknown represented by Lyra.

“Lyra darling,” he turned to face Lyra, trying to will her to play along with his eyes. “come closer, please.” He turned to the agent once again and smiled more confidently now. “We have been a couple since our last year at school...” he said as though he was confiding in her. “I feel like I'm only half myself when I'm not with her and that's also the reason why we are looking for a flat now – we want to finally move in together, don't we, my dear?!” he asked Lyra, putting his arm around her shoulder. He would have liked to kiss her now just to prove his point but he was afraid that Lyra might give up this whole masquerade at once then and did not want to play for high stakes. He thought that if the girl was willing to play along they actually stood a chance to get the place as he found that he played his part really well. He almost believed himself that the things he had said were the truth.

Lyra couldn't believe how quickly her good  mood had plummeted. All dreams of moving in with a cute stranger and slowly falling in love now lay in tatters. She was aware that she was being impolite but what else was she supposed to do? Sylvain wasn't blameless in this mess. Granted, it wasn't really his fault but there was some latent anger present. He'd almost been her boyfriend but she'd freaked out. She'd like to say she was wiser since the last time they'd met but she couldn't guarantee it.

Unable to control her face, Lyra wrinkled her nose as Sylvain dropped a kiss on the estate agent's hand to greet her and an unfamiliar mix of jealousy and annoyance bubbled in the pit of her stomach. Her bright blue eyes slid sideways to Sylvain, wondering how on Earth they'd both ended up in this mess.

They stepped in and the hairs on the back of Lyra's arms stood to attention as a ripple of excitement shivered down her spine. "Gorgeous," she replied on a breath as she looked around, loving how the noises of Paris were muffled inside of the entrance hall. The petite blonde nodded, listening Anne started her spiel. Built in 1900 and refurbished a few years ago. It had an elevator, set in a quiet side street in a highly sought after neighbourhood. It was close to Place de Vosges, one of her favourite spots. It had a private balcony. Lyra didn't meet Sylvain's eye as the agent spoke, anxiously tugging on her earlobe as visions of bottles of wine and romantic evenings crept in. But everything stopped instantly.

Her heart sank like a stone. They only wanted to let the dream apartment to a couple and she and Sylvain were not a couple. She wanted to cry. How draconian was that? Swiftly, Lyra hid her hands in her pockets in case Anne was looking for a ring. The way he laughed made her frown, concerned, turning to face him as though to find out what was so funny.

Darling. Dear.

Lyra boggled at Sylvain as he spoke. She didn't like the position he put her in by speaking, leaving her standing there like a lemon and forcing her to move. Wearing a rather unnatural smile, Lyra stepped closer. He was lying but it didn't stop her blush from forming. If they'd sorted their shit out, they would have been a couple since their last year of school and they probably would have thought about moving in with each other. Truth was stranger than fiction.

As soon as Sylvain draped an arm around her, she stiffened momentarily before she held her breath and forced herself to relax. Do it for the apartment, she told herself, ignoring the way his arm felt like a comforting weight. Reaching up, Lyra tangled her fingers with the ones he had hanging off her shoulder, smiling broadly as if this was the most natural thing in the entire world. "Yes," she finally responded, still smiling at the agent. "We've been looking around for ages for the perfect place, haven't we?" She asked Sylvain as she turned to look at him, resolutely ignoring the way the sunlight that filtered through the windows brought out the russet highlights in his hair. "I think we've found it."

Anne seemed to buy it. She smiled as she jotted things down before pressing the elevator button. "Oh," Lyra began quickly. "Can we take the stairs? I'm a little claustrophobic," she lied. The agent didn't seem to mind as they headed to the stairs, Lyra intentionally hanging back a little to turn and glare at Sylvain. Rather rudely, she twisted his fingers and bumped him with her hip, putting some much needed space between them as she managed to shrug free and follow Anne up the stairs in time to catch her question.

"So, what do you do for a living?" the agent had asked. "I'm an astronomer," Lyra announced before she smiled wryly. "I know," she added as the staircase wound around in a spiral. "Stargazing in Paris is almost impossible but I do it anyway. I usually work nights so I'll be no trouble to the neighbours."  Anne scribbled that down and Lyra chewed her lip as she saw the phrase "quiet, respectful written down; that was surely good?

The front door was painted a charming shade of blue as they reached it and Anne fumbled with her keys, Lyra positively vibrating with excitement as she waited. "You both seem very loved up," she announced with a smile, leaving Lyra confused as butterflies swarmed in her stomach. She settled for a nervous laugh. "Oh, well, he's very charming," she added. "And he knows me very well. He knows I hate roses so he brings me peonies instead. Oh wow."

When the door was opened, Lyra stepped into the living room, her eyes wide as she traipsed after the agent as though she was a school child on a school trip to a museum. Her face lit up. "I love it," she gushed as she tilted her head back to look at the high ceilings and crown moldings, inlaid with little flowers. "There are three bedrooms. A master, a guest room and perhaps one day, a nursery?" Anne asked casually. "Or a study," Lyra replied too hastily, shooting Sylvain a look as she stepped away to admire the view from the large window in the sitting room.

Although Lyra seemed displeased and tense she did not give him away, at least not yet. Sylvain was relieved and relaxed a little more in his role as she reached up to touch his hand that was resting on her shoulder. He smiled as he glanced at her with what he thought was a very loving expression. It was not hard to play Lyra's boyfriend, had he been so close to really becoming her boyfriend just a few months ago. He still liked her and couldn't deny it. However, he was determined not to make a first step again and reveal his true feelings no matter what happened. This was just a role for now.

If they got lucky and could move into the flat then they'd get plenty of time together to figure out where they really stood. Now the only thing that mattered was that Anne bought their story. Lyra was doing a good job given that Sylvain assumed that this was a first for her to slip into such a role and improvise. He looked at her with a wide smile as she spoke of them having been looking around for a long time and nodded in agreement. “Yes, we have been searching for a place way too long now. I almost gave up hope.” He laughed. “Lyra, however, was always convinced that there'd be the perfect place for us and if she says this is it, then I'll do all it takes to make this become our home.” He pressed her hand gently, meaning to let her know just how grateful he was that she played along.

Lyra was getting better and better at lying, Sylvain thought as she mentioned that she was claustrophobic which Sylvain would have known if it had been true. He had, after all, always paid attention to what she had said about herself. The glare that followed this lie quite closely killed Sylvain's smile. The young man realised that Lyra was not playing along for the sake of them moving together but solely because she wanted the flat. That was fair enough, of course. He hadn't really felt any different but still her reaction seemed filled with dislike. He winced quietly when she twisted his fingers and bumped him before she freed herself out of the embrace and sort of sprinted up the stairs to follow Anne.

Sylvain reminded himself of his role, told himself that this just did not happen at all because they were, after all, a loving couple. He followed the women up the stairs, renewing his smile on his way. Anne asked them what they did for a living and Lyra's response surprised Sylvain. He wanted to enquire further, hear all about it but knew he couldn't in Anne's presence. Figuring that an actor was probably not seen as a respectful and responsible person, Sylvain decided to only talk about his less liked job. “I'm working for the Ministry,” he said. “As I'm not there for very long I have not yet climbed the career ladder very far but I'm ambitious and I aim to be a department head before too long.” It was a lie. In fact, Sylvain was already regretting that he had joined the Ministry at all. However, a regular income, a solid job, was something one needed when looking for a place to live and when one wanted to sleep tight at night. He had not seen it as a school boy but now he actually began to value security higher.

Anne took some more notes and Sylvain tried to get a glimpse of what she wrote but as Lyra was now standing between them he had no chance to see anything properly. Then Anne led them into the flat, announcing that they both seemed very loved up. It was a compliment for their acting quality, Sylvain told himself. It had nothing nothing to do with the reality. However, when Lyra spoke about how he was charming and knew her well, Sylvain couldn't help but feel flattered. He almost felt like she wasn't lying but actually was sincere. He wanted to reply something equally sweet but they were both overwhelmed with the sight of the flat that was offered to them now.

Sylvain looked around in awe, lost for anything to say. The place looked beautiful. The only thing he recalled that had impressed him as much had been the setting for a Romeo and Juliet play he had seen a few years ago. However, this was so much better. This was a place where he could possibly live. A place that he could hopefully soon call his home. A place he could share with Lyra. 

The talk about the room that could be a nursery or, as Lyra mentioned, a study, pulled Sylvain out of his reverie. “Well, for now it can sure be a study.” He agreed. Then, grinning a little he stepped closer to Lyra whispering into her ear just loud enough so that Anne would not miss a single word. “Sooner or later we'll need the nursery though. I know you would like to work a few years before you want a child but it's good that the place is big enough because I'd hate to leave it behind when we start our own little family.” He gave her little peck on the cheek before taking a step back. He made it look as though he wanted to look around some more but, truth be told, he mostly just wanted to get out of Lyra's reach because he feared that she might attack him again if she got a chance.

Slowly he walked through the flat, leaving the women behind and soon discovered the balcony which offered a perfect view of Paris. He already imagined how they'd sit here for hours at a time to chat while enjoying a glass of wine and some snacks. If only they really got the flat… Then he just had to convince Lyra that he was not all that bad at all and they could actually enjoy sharing this beautiful flat.

Despite not really wanting to, Lyra listened in as Sylvain spoke about his Ministry job. He mentioned it before graduation, how he could probably pull some strings and get her a job. But it wasn't for her. A desk job, 9 to 5, would suck the life out of her. For someone who claimed to like an ordinary life, working at the Ministry just seemed too ordinary. She offered Anne a quick smile as her "boyfriend" waffled on about becoming head of his department but that was Sylvain all over - he straddled the line between charming and braggadocious.

But that didn't matter. What did matter, however, was how in love she was with this apartment.

A beat of silence passed through the group as Lyra's pale eyes widened, greedily drinking in all the details that weren't listed. The crown mouldings, the little flowers, the original hardwood floors, the gossamer curtains catching on the early summer breeze. She bit her lip as excitement fizzled down her spine. It was perfect. It was so cute and cosy. She liked that everything was white and the splashes of colour and the unusual features made her not want to decorate.

"Do all the fixtures and fittings come with it?" Lyra asked lightly as she ran her pale fingers over the kitchen counter top. She didn't really cook. She could, she just didn't have anyone to cook for. Moving in with Sylvain would provide her with that but she didn't want him getting too comfortable, lest he think she was giving him the green light. When Anne replied that yes, all furniture and appliances were included, she instantly wanted to start making a stir fry using those dimpled copper pans.

Sylvain crowded her space and she felt herself stiffen. In spite of herself, the hairs on Lyra's arms stood up as he whispered and her eyes closed of their own accord, momentarily forgetting that they weren't alone. It was short lived, however. A little noise of indignation escaped her full lips before she could stifle it.

"Oh, ha ha ha," the petite blonde laughed in what sounded very strange and it was purely for Anne's benefit. "He's so funny," she gushed as Sylvain walked away and she watched him with narrowed eyes. Stepping closer to the agent, she lowered her voice as though she and Anne were now best friends. "His home life is messy," Lyra went on in a stage whisper. "His mum remarried over the summer and his dad doesn't really want him around. I think that's why he's so keen to start a family of his own, to make sure he doesn't make the same mistakes." And good luck with that, darling, she thought darkly.

Anne nodded sympathetically as she wrote, her quill moving very quickly against her clipboard. Whether she and Sylvain were winning her over really did remain to be seen. "Can you just give us two minutes?" She asked Anne sweetly as she nodded to the balcony where Sylvain was standing. "There's a lot to process and I'm dying to see the view," she grinned and Anne nodded with a laugh, stepping back into the kitchen and making a comment about "young love" and Lyra wanted to hurl.

Coming up behind Sylvain, she rudely poked him in the back. "Oi," she hissed, her eyes wide. "We need to talk. Outside. Now." With that, she pulled open the balcony doors and stepped out, closing them behind her. The sounds of Paris were there but muffled. From the balcony, she could hear trundling traffic and laughter. "You're mad," she told him in no uncertain terms as she gripped the balcony railings and leaned over a little, trying to suck in lungfuls of air. "Do you have any idea how much trouble you're causing?" Lyra fired at him, turning to face him with pink cheeks.

Her anger was annoyingly dissipating as she looked at him with a frown. Sylvain was at least trying to blag their way into this apartment and she appreciated it. She also found looking into his too-clear eyes for a long time was making her uncomfortable so she cleared her throat and dropped her gaze. Swiftly, she heaved a heavy sigh. "I love it here," she finally admitted as she looked up at him before she spotted a figure moving behind him inside; Anne wanted to come out. "Quick," she hissed. "Pretend I said something really funny and you're totally in love with me."

Sylvain was relieved that the conversation about his job had not been prolonged with unnecessary questions by Anne. He wasn't sure if he could have kept his role as an ambitious ministry worker up for any longer. Truth be told even in his role he felt this uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, that kind of feeling one had when doing something they shouldn't. Sylvain never had that when he acted – neither on stage nor in a situation like the one at hand.

The questions Lyra asked were so sensible and actually something Sylvain would have asked too if he had been himself. In his role though he left the questions to his beautiful girlfriend. Or was she already his fiancée? He absently rubbed his chin as he wondered if they had claimed to be engaged to be married or if that was, maybe, a little encore for Anne for later on.

Anyway, he was delighted to hear that all the things came with the flat. This was perfect. They didn't have to waste money on dishes and pans and all that kind of expensive stuff that one needed in a flat one called a home.

Sylvain was admittedly rather amused by Lyra's reaction to him coming closer. Maybe not all was lost yet? He thought he saw something in her eyes just then. A sign that, perhaps, she did not find him all that awful, after all. However, there was no time to linger on and consider what might be nothing. He had made his comment, Lyra had done her best to react to it like the joke it was and he made his way out of her way so she could keep asking sensible or superfluous question just as she wished.

The place was feeling strangely soothing. Sylvain often felt troubled and, while he loved to be on stage, hear the crowd and just wasn't shy of interaction he wanted his home to be retreat and this place just had something like that already. It was in the midsts of Paris and yet it was comparably quiet. The daylight floated the rooms and everything just seemed tranquil… everything except Lyra who was a potential risk to this peace now.

He could hear what she said about him as he walked away, almost tempted to turn around and confront her why she was putting this out here, why she wanted to unmask him in this brutal way. It was not her right to use this part of his truth to back up the lie. She shouldn't have done that and if it wasn't for this beautiful flat and Anne who could still deny them to live here, he'd have yelled at her now. Instead he just put more space between them as his mask wearing a content smile slipped away and revealed a pained expression.

Now he could hear steps, her steps. For a moment he closed his eyes, exhaled and turned to face her with the smile that the ambitious ministry official would have for his girlfriend. Why did she seem so brisk now? It was her who had hurt him not the other way around. Why did girls never realise that they weren't always right? He frowned as she ushered him outside onto the balcony, feeling confused and betrayed by her.

“I am causing problems?” he asked utterly astonished. How had she made that out? She wanted the flat, didn't she? He was doing his best to get it for her, well, for them, okay. Now she was nervously clearing her throat and looking down like a schoolgirl on her first date. What the hell was going on here? Surely Lyra was playing a role in an entirely different play than he was.

As she admitted that she loved the place, the corner's of Sylvain's lips twitched, wanting to form a smile that he did not yet allow to happen. “You do?” he still asked softly. “You know, this is worse than a roller coaster ride with you today.” He said quietly before laughing in a way that hopefully did the required job. “Oh darling,” he then added, knowing that Anne was now close enough to hear every word they were saying while ignoring her. “You are so cute and I love you more with every day.” He gave her a little kiss on the cheek, lingering on the spot for an instant, before pretending to have just noticed Anne. “Oh! I'm so sorry. We got a bit carried away. The flat, the scenery… it's all just perfect.” He ended with a sheepish grin and a shrug before looking at Lyra giving her the opportunity to play her role.

As soon as she spoke, Lyra regretted it. It was petty and vindictive and she hadn't meant to spill the beans. She chewed on her lip as a toxic wave of uneasiness curdled in her stomach. What was she hoping to achieve by that remark? Getting one up on Sylvain? He looked hurt and her heart dropped. She opened her mouth to apologise before she quickly shut it. It was her fault but he wasn't blameless in this, either.

She was hot and bothered as she stood on the balcony, his broad frame blocking the only way out. Getting him alone seemed like a good idea at first. She'd been angry and upset by the way he was acting. He was an actor, of course, but now she was second-guessing everything.

Had he been acting when they were in school? Were those looks planned? Was she part of some sick game he was playing with Maximillien - stealing his best friend? She let Sylvain speak and sketched a small smile when he referred to her as a rollercoaster. She didn't think he was cruel, rude or underhand. He'd been soft and sweet, always there when she needed him. It was uncanny. But that had been a year ago. He had a big shot job. He wore suits now. She was so stupid.

This had been such a bad idea. The moment she saw him, she should have left. He wanted the flat, he should get the flat. Lyra knew there were other places she could rent but she'd need a roommate to be able to afford somewhere nice and at times, it was better the Devil you know.

Off-kilter and uncomfortable, she hadn't realised she'd been silent. Sylvain's face loomed in front of hers and as her cheek was kissed, her eyes fluttered closed. It was chaste, brief, but enough for him to take the lead. She reached out and placed a hand on one of his hips, the only place she could reach before Anne The Moment Ruiner arrived.

Sylvain spoke and Lyra blushed the same colour pink that matched her scarf. She'd fallen down the rabbit hole and she couldn't blow it now; the stakes were too high. Despite her basically ordering him to say he loved her, when he did, a shiver tingled down her spine. Their "relationship" hadn't happened quickly. It was stop-start and fraught with troubles but she suddenly realised that he was a very good actor. Maybe his feelings weren't genuine?

Anne was looking at her as though she expected her to say something, a smile plastered on her bright pink lips but Lyra was looking at Sylvain, trying to figure out what was real and what wasn't.

"We love it," Lyra finally responded with a smile, shoving her hands deep into her pockets as the idea of touching him was becoming too hard to bear. She was running the stats inside her head. She wanted the bedroom that was near the balcony with the French doors. Sylvain probably didn't know but she needed the sound of traffic to help her sleep. They'd have to share a bathroom but that was fine because she didn't take a lot of upkeep and she was tidy. The spare bedroom could possibly be her study - if he agreed. She'd be working evenings, he probably wouldn't so they wouldn't really cross paths. He'd just be sharing the rent.

Lyra looked at Sylvain quickly. "So," she said, distracted. "Shall we sign the application?" In a wayward sort of choice, she was calling his bluff. Anne handed her the clipboard and pen and Lyra signed on the dotted line when the agent noticed their surnames didn't match. Lyra cleared her throat. Pretending to date was a lot but pretending to be betrothed? She couldn't.

The lease was for sixth months. That was doable she thought. It suddenly occurred to her that he could bring girls home, into her home. She could probably bring guys back too but that was something that they'd have to discuss. She could use magic to make the walls a little thicker.

"Very cute," Anne giggled, causing Lyra to blink in confusion. "It's a good area for young professionals and young families." It hung in the air and Lyra jumped back in. "That's really good to know," she smiled. "But transport links? The Metro is nearby?" Apparating often made her sick. Anne nodded. "Yes. Bastille." The petite blonde nodded, avoiding Sylvain's eye as she smiled. "Sounds great. Looks like I'll be home in time for dinner."

Anne interrupted the scene just in time, in fact, just by the time she would have done it had this been an actual play. Sylvain found this thought rather amusing but at the same time he would have liked to find out how far Lyra would have gone. Maybe they would have kissed, maybe not. The tension that had just built up was perfect for a play but rather unnerving in real life.

Lyra immediately paid attention to Anne again as he knew he should too. However, his gaze rested on Lyra, the sweet, clumsy, complicated and insecure girl that he adored. She was a piece of work though and Sylvain wondered if he'd ever be the version of himself that she could love or if they were just doomed. Besides if he couldn't be his true self was there even a chance for a relationship? Admittedly, he had been his true self in her presence in the past but that had made him vulnerable and actually an easy target for Lyra. He was not going to let his mask down again if she was then in power to hurt him again.

Still, there was something about the girl that fascinated him, he was drawn to her just like a moth would fly to the light and yet he knew that it wasn't wise to move in with her. They were in for a lot of trouble, he could hear it knocking on the door of their beautiful flat.

Yet, his heart told him to wait and see what happens. He could always move out again. It was not like they were magically tied together if they took this flat. It was just the flat that they'd share, after all.

“Yes, we do,” Sylvain absently echoed her saying that they loved the flat. There was a they somewhere out there and not just Lyra and Sylvain, two names simply connected by a conjunction. This was merely a sentence spoken while they were both playing a role, he reminded himself. This was not real.

He nodded as Lyra asked him if they should sign the application. “Of course,” he replied. As they both signed Anne noticed that their names didn't match. Sylvain picked up on this, thinking that he could help clear this up for the agent. “Well, you know, we are engaged but we were too late to organise a spring wedding. I'm not fond of summer weddings myself and… we were thinking about a kind of winter wonderland themed wedding in December.” He offered a dreamy little smile and shrugged in what seemed to be a rather sheepish way. “But don't tell anyone, it's our little secret for now. There are still so many things to sort out and so many problems to overcome.”

Lyra spoke about transportation and the metro which made Sylvain wonder if she was actually going to use this means of transportation herself. He knew he would but it was not exactly a magical way to get from A to B. He could probably pull some strings to get the flat connected to the floo network. In fact, that seemed like one of the few positive aspects about his ministry job. He'd make sure to discuss it with Lyra at some point but as he thought about it he already feared that she would not approve of it solely because it was his idea and he could make it work through his job relations.

Before he could think about this any longer though, Lyra said that she'd be home for dinner. He knew that in real life he was in the theatre during dinner time but that was not Anne's business and so he decided to give the agent yet another reason to think of them as the ideal couple. “That sounds perfect, my dear. I can't wait for us to cook meals together in the kitchen… and if we're running out of time I'm sure there are nice restaurants in the neighbourhood?” He looked at Anne, waiting for confirmation but as she spoke he barely listened. He'd find out if the bistro right around the corner had the best crêpes of the area or not by himself.

Lyra was smiling but this was starting to hurt. Sylvain wasn't a cruel man, at least she didn't think he was but he was saying all the right things, doing all the right things, practically reading her mind. They were lying to a very nice lady. Was the flat even worth it?

She flicked her big blue eyes over to him and instantly wished she hadn't. He was an actor - a good one - so this was just a role, feelings be damned. They definitely needed to talk, that much was evident. She didn't like the expression water under the bridge because this was a slow moving current. He wasn't cruel but she was left speechless and anxious as he so casually explained to Anne the life of her dreams, like it was no big deal. If they'd made the move, perhaps this could all have been real.

But no.

Sylvain spoke of a wedding and Lyra was drifting in and out of the conversation, absently wondering if she was in a parallel universe. Anne looked at her expectantly and she smiled again, hoping it looked easy rather than painful. "He's in a rush," she said pleasantly with a gentle smile. "I'm sure he thinks I'm going to change my mind." Anne laughed. Lyra didn't. The petite blonde sorely hoped the other woman wouldn't ask to see her ring because she didn't have one and then the plan which Sylvain was expertly weaving would fall apart at the seams.

"I love the snow," Lyra added helpfully and that was probably the first truthful thing she'd said all day. She grew up in the mountains so cold and the outdoors were her happy place. It couldn't be further from Sylvain's upbringing, which made it even more bizarre. It wasn't fair. He was describing things she didn't even know she wanted and then rubbed salt in the wounds when she couldn't have them.

The kitchen, though fairly large for an apartment, presented an issue. Was he expecting her to cook for him? They'd have to cross paths eventually. Lyra would have to label all her food. They couldn't eat together, that would be too intimate but they couldn't also eat in their bedrooms because that would just be strange. This was all getting too much and Lyra could feel the tips of her ears turning red, a sure sign that she was uncomfortable.

Lyra was dimly aware of Anne launching into a list of her favourite places. She loved a small Lebanese place not that far from here. Lyra never had Lebanese food before. There were lots of classic French places but they were in what Anne called a "trendy" part of town (she used air quotes and gave a shrill laugh that caused Lyra to wince.) Moroccan places, a vegan restaurant, somewhere close sold kebabs. "We're spoiled for choice," she finally replied, reaching out and resting her fingers lightly on Sylvain's arm.

"When do you think we'll hear back?" Lyra asked the older woman. "Oh not too long at all," Anne replied, flapping her hand at them both as though it wasn't an important question. "I think you two would be just perfect and I'll tell the owner so," she added, looking smug and causing Lyra to take a half-step closer to her "fiancee".

"You know, I could probably send this today," Anne replied as she twiddled her pen, causing the petite blonde to look up expectantly. "Oh?" She asked, curious, especially since her lease was ending literally in two weeks time - she was desperate. "I think you two are just super cute! Go on, kiss him." Lyra must have paled because all she could hear after that was a ringing in her ears. So...this entire thing rested on a kiss? Talk about absolute madness. Before she psyched herself out, she turned to Sylvain, stood on her tiptoes, cupped his cheek and kissed him squarely on the mouth, steadfastly ignoring the way goose bumps rose on her arms.

Lyra's reaction to Sylvain's talk about the winter wedding was feeling like it belonged into the scene. The young wizard was quite proud of her and yet he also felt like she was rejecting him with the words she said. Anne laughed, Sylvain's smile looked pained but he assumed that it was still well played by him.

Why did he even worry about it? It was stupid. They were no couple. They were just playing their roles to get a beautiful flat together. For an instant Sylvain felt like he was making a mistake. Moving in with Lyra was a masochist gesture, wasn't it? He was like a moth drawn to a flame. She was going to burn him when she'd reject him again. The Ombrelune graduate felt certain that this was exactly what he had to expect from her. She would reject him, play with his feelings that were true and not just played because of Anne.

“Yeah,” he added, looking at Anne, as Lyra spoke about loving the snow. “That's why we want the winter wedding. Except for the fact that I'm not into summer weddings I don't mind the time of the year. However, a wedding is only perfect if the bride is one hundred percent happy, right?! I want my Lyra to have the wedding of her dreams so she can always look back with a smile on her face. After all, I am only be happy when she's happy too.”

Maybe he was overdoing it. However, Sylvain was a romantic, he believed in true love although he wasn't so positive that he'd ever find it. Nonetheless the words came out easily and his facial expression matched them rather well. His smile was genuine and loving.

Sylvain looked at the kitchen and could almost envision the two of them cooking together. They'd cut the vegetables, argue playfully about the spices they'd add, eat together in candlelight and later tidy up together. He wondered if Lyra cleaned the dishes magically or if she liked to do it the muggle way. Sometimes Sylvain felt that simple shores around the house were best done the muggle way. The feeling of accomplishment was something he did not get out of tidying up by the use of magic. Of course, if he was in a hurry or tired he was happy to just get everything done with just a flick of his wand, too.

Truth be told, Sylvain had not even listened to Anne's restaurant suggestions. He did not consider her recommendation to be of much use to him. Everybody had a different taste and places Anne liked did not have to be restaurants that he'd appreciate as well. He turned to look at Lyra when her fingers touched his arm. He was surprised that she went for physical contact but the girl had apparently learned to play her role quickly. She was a natural acting talent, it seemed. Or wasn't she even acting any longer?

He was positively surprised to hear Anne say that they'd hear back soon and that she considered them perfect for the place. Sylvain had been quiet for a while, not adding to the talk about the restaurants, not enquiring about when they'd hear back from Anne because Lyra had this all under control. As a loving couple they didn't have to interrupt each other. She spoke what he was thinking or that was at least the illusion he wanted to create.

Then, however, Anne encouraged Lyra to kiss him and he felt how a heat wave shot through his body. Sylvain had not been aware just how much he wanted this kiss. He didn't want it for the roles they were playing – although it was definitely an ideal final scene – he wanted it for real. He pulled her into a gentle embrace, enjoying the closeness to her. As her lips reached his, he closed his eyes and gently returned her kiss. His lips opened and, as he deepened the kiss, he just hoped that Lyra would not spoil this last scene of their play.

Sylvain spoke about his dislike of summer weddings and Lyra looked over quickly, only now realising her mistake. Of course he was speaking about his mother's second wedding and the absolute trainwreck of a day. She chewed on her lip anxiously and while she hadn't thought about that day for a while, she remembered it in minute detail. It must have been horrible, even though his mother seemed so much happier with her new husband.

My Lyra, he'd said, so casually cruel. The lines were no longer blurred, they were now indistinguishable. She really couldn't believe they were doing all this for a stupid flat. Realistically, they could find another flat in the city - together or apart. They definitely didn't need to be doing this and Anne seemed really nice. But then again, what other apartment had such a great location, was affordable and had the bedroom of her dreams?

Sylvain had remained fairly quiet so Lyra was forced to take over. She didn't mind because it made sense that her former classmate was regretting the entire thing. But this was all hanging on a kiss. Just one. It was no big deal, they'd kissed before --

Sylvain's hands were on her waist and she could feel the heat radiating from his skin, causing her to shiver delicately. Without needing to be encouraged, Lyra stepped into his body, up on her tiptoes as he kissed her back. He was gentle, causing her toes to curl in her shoes as everything seemed to fade out. She couldn't hear the trundling traffic outside or the leaking tap (she'd make sure Anne got that repaired before they did anything else). She could, however, hear the blood pounding in her ears.

In an effort to be closer to him, Lyra rested her hands on Sylvain's forearms, curling around them as though terrified he might let her go. Her head was tilted upwards towards him as they kissed, shifting from a little to a lot as though they'd struck a match. It seemed imperative that Sylvain be closer to her. Without thinking about it, her hands were now on his back, sliding towards his chest and underneath his jacket, too close to his shirt buttons. She would have continued had Anne not delicately cleared her throat.

Pink cheeked, Lyra broke the kiss to look over at Anne, dazed and a little out of breath. Her hands were still on Sylvain's back beneath his jacket, fingers curled as she had a fistful of his shirt and she forced herself to relax.

Lyra gave a quick laugh, blushing all the way to the roots of her hair. Her lips still tingled from the impassioned way his had moved over them and she was momentarily speechless. This...changed things. Their axis had shifted. "Oh, sorry!" Lyra chimed as she finally let him go, her fingers lingering on his hip for a moment too long before taking a step back.

"Got a bit carried away," she chimed as she tangled a hand in her air, the coolness of the apartment rushing up to meet her in the absence of his body. Anne seemed a little shell shocked but laughed along, making a comment about "young love" as she turned to gather up her papers, leaving Lyra rooted to the spot. Confused, she pressed her fingers to her lower lip as she looked over at Sylvain, knowing that the act had changed their "relationship" irrevocably and unsure what to do next. "Well," she replied clumsily as Anne pottered around in the background. "Thanks?" As soon as she said that, she winced and hoped the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

The kiss was better than anything Sylvain could have dreamed of. They were so close now, so intimate. This did not feel just like a kiss to prove to Anne that they were a couple. This felt a lot more intense. The way Lyra stepped as close to him as she possibly could, the way her hands went from his back to his chest and underneath his jacket…

Sylvain's heart was beating quickly, his cheeks reddened and he felt hot and cold at once. He wanted her and if Anna hadn't been present then Sylvain would have probably dragged Lyra inside into one of the beautiful bedrooms…

However, Anne was there and what was worse, he wasn't entirely convinced that Lyra would kiss him again once they were alone. The perfect moment soon ended when the agent cleared her throat. It was just in time because Sylvain felt that a part of him was more than ready to take the next step.

Lyra let go of him and excused to Anne. Both of them had blushed by now, probably looking like some teenagers caught in the act of something that was forbidden. Her fingers were still on his lips for an instant and although Anne had come back into the picture, Sylvain could not take his eyes off Lyra. He couldn't help wondering where they'd go from here and the flat that had been so important a moment ago was merely a vague idea to him now.

Anne seemed amused from what Sylvain heard but he was still in a daze when the agent collected her papers. Lyra's thanks was was what finally brought him out of his trance. His dreamy expression was replaced by a questioning look. What did that mean? Had she really merely acted? Was she such an amazing actress? So much better than him? He took a step back, trying to compose himself by getting some distance between the two of them. “Well, thank you,” he heard himself respond. The words had come out automatically and they were not really what he had wanted to say. He ran his hand through his hair and bit his lips that were still feeling hot from the kiss.

“Fancy a lunch?” he breathed, feeling strangely nervous. “I'd really love to catch up with my future flat mate.” He smiled at her now, his gaze resting on her pretty face.

Was a bad idea still a bad idea if it didn't feel like a bad idea?

Lyra's skin was still tingling and she was glad that Sylvain couldn't see the rapidly forming goosebumps due to all of her layers. His eyes were on her and she could feel them and without meaning to, she met his gaze. The urge to kiss him again was almost overwhelming. She didn't think she'd experienced such a magnetic pull from anyone she'd been dating, let alone from someone that she definitely wasn't.

Sylvain thanked her back and she frowned quickly, unsure of whether or not he was being sarcastic but decided that he wasn't. There was a palpable shift. Lyra wasn't mad at him any more because that kiss had wiped out most of any bad memories concerning him. In fact, she couldn't even remember the last time they'd kissed in school. The one they'd just shared seemed to steamroller the previous one completely.

Lunch? "Yes." The reply came instantly and she still wasn't sure if she should. All she did know was that she definitely didn't want to talk about what had just transpired but she also didn't want to walk away from him - that didn't seem an option. If pressed, she could pass off his acceptance of his invitation as an excuse to walk around their new neighbourhood.

"There's an Italian place close by?" Lyra offered as she hastily rearranged her pale pink scarf as though that would somehow cover her feelings up. Clearing her throat, she stepped over to Anne to say goodbye and the agent showed them out, closing the door behind them all. Anne spoke to Sylvain as they descended the stairs, leaving her behind momentarily as she loitered at the doorstep.

What was she doing? With her eyes closed, she leaned against the door and took a deep breath. There was no point in trying to work through her muddled brain and so, she jogged down the winding staircase and almost tripped over Sylvain in her rush to catch up. She grabbed his arm for support but now couldn't remove it in fear of blowing their cover. Anne waved a cheery farewell as her heels click-clacked away in the opposite direction, leaving them alone again.

"So," Lyra said briskly, still not removing her hand. "Shall we?" She asked as they began to walk away and down the street.


[done!]