[Paris] Open up the doors and let you out into the world [Maddie]

Traveling was the fun part of the job, really.  He didn’t know, really, how people kept getting his name and number from all over Europe, especially since he had no home address except a PO box, but he was fine with it. He needed the side money, considering all his expenses. It was really more expensive to rent by the week than it would be to get an apartment—but he couldn’t afford an apartment that he might only be in a few nights a month when he was traveling so much. He thought wizarding hotels were more price-accommodating than muggle ones, but that didn’t help by much. He was leaving an apartment building in Paris now, a little sweaty from a particularly nasty battle with a boggart.  They were always draining, emotionally and physically, but he felt accomplished when he got those looks of thanks and a fat wad of cash from the house owners.

He was walking back towards the town side, looking for something to eat and maybe a place to stay for the night. It wasn’t often he was in Paris, and he didn’t really speak the language, but he liked to travel and see the world while he was still young and able to. He spotted a girl next to an apartment building struggling with a few boxes and tried to keep walking, but there was a tingle in the back of his head telling him he ought to go help. It was the nice thing to do, right?

He walked over to her and smiled, looking very stupid for a moment as he looked for the right words in French. “Hello, you… help… moving… need?” He attempted, reaching out for the box. He hoped that made sense, though he wasn’t quite sure what exactly had come out of his mouth. He remembered that a lot of people in France liked if you attempted to speak French to them. Even so, his American accent was terrible.

@Madeline Fletcher 

Oh she really didn't need all of these pots and pans.

Madeline heaved a sigh as she rubbed her eyes, her wild curls escaping her ponytail like they wanted to be anywhere else, kind of like she did. It was a lovely sunny day in the capital and she'd decided to finish moving her stuff in because she was a moron. Her furniture was already upstairs and all she was left with now was mainly the junk she couldn't throw away - who knew the next time she might need all that nail polish?

Her parents and brother had offered to help but she'd said she was fine but was instantly regretting it now. She also regretted leaving her own apartment and there was a twinge of sadness when she'd handed the keys back. Maddie wasn't really geared up to live on her own. She'd bounced from living with Ernie to living with Emilie. While she didn't begrudge the Frenchwoman from wanting to do her own thing, she told herself that a new neighbourhood was  a better thing.

With a grunt, Madeline clumsily held on to a battered box full of cooking equipment before she jumped as someone approached her. Ever wary, she frowned at his words - he must be foreign because no one was that friendly. Her first thought was ooh, American.

But that was in their nature, wasn't it? They were so friendly with super bright teeth and a strange desire to be terminally optimistic. She blinked, staying quiet as he sounded out what he wanted to say and she couldn't help but grin at his efforts. It was in no way bad but it was a bit endearing and she hadn't spoken English in months so she thought it might feel strange on her tongue, too.

"Hello," she replied brightly, unceremoniously dumping the box into his waiting hands before wiping her own on the knees of her jeans. "Thank you," she gushed as she stepped back to wrestle a duvet into another box. She frowned quickly. "You're sure you don't mind?" Madeline asked cautiously before she shifted her box under her arm so she could extend a hand out to him. "I'm Madeline," she announced with a grin as she hopped up her front steps and held the door open by pressing her backside against it and leaving him enough room for him to enter the foyer. He must be either very lost or very far from home.

Ashley took the box as Madeline dropped it in his hands with a smile. He wasn’t entirely sure what she said, but he understood her name. He nodded and smiled a lot, shaking her hand when it was offered. “Maddie, pretty name.” He offered. He followed her lead up to her apartment. When he arrived, he put the box down inside, near the doorway. He felt bad being in her home, but he supposed he was invited (sort-of).

“Do you speak English?” He asked in French, a phrase he could say quite fluently. In English, he added: “Is there more you need help with?” He asked, carefully. He wanted to make sure there wasn’t more he needed to do before he got comfortable—or, if there was, he could get it taken care of quickly. He wasn’t in a hurry, honestly, but no one liked lugging heavy boxes. He thought it was worth it to spend a little time with this pretty lady. Maybe she’d even let him buy her a drink afterwards, if she was single. Was she single? Did it matter?

“My arms are ready for the challenge.” He teased lightly. “So, new place?”

"Thanks," Madeline said brightly with a cheery smile. It had taken her a long time to get used to the French pronunciation - the correct of her name, apparently - now she rather liked it. She answered to maddy-len instead of maddy-line. She liked the way he shortened it without asking to. She expected him to offer his name back but he declined and it only made her grin wider. So he was mysterious, too? Okay. She could deal with that.

"I do," she assured him. "I'm a bit rusty, though," she joked. Her pastry chefs were predominantly French and she'd sort of taken to speaking it at home, too. Maddie chose to swear in English, though. It just packed more of a punch.

She heaved a heavy sigh as she blew at a loose curl, shifting the box. "Most of it is already upstairs. The lift's broken," Maddie added with a roll of her honey coloured eyes in a bloody typical sort of way. "How are you with flat-packed furniture?" She asked him, an eyebrow arched before she laughed. "I'm kidding, I promise." Sort of.

She laughed again, carefully balancing her box on top of his so she could grab a binbag full of cushions as she gathered up little bits that she'd dropped from the apartment building floor. "Watch yourself," she warned him as she began to climb, rummaging around in her back pocket for the keys.

"New neighbourhood," she agreed. "Just fancied a change." Maddie wasn't going to divulge that she was trying to outrun her past. "As much as I love the city, I thought somewhere a little quieter might be a nice thing to try. Here we go," she announced as she shifted her belonging and unlocked a pale duck egg blue door to her new home swee home. "Here, let me," she offered graciously as she turned to take the top box he was carrying.

"Can I get you a drink?" She asked as she tied her hair back into a ponytail as she stepped into her small kitchen. "Water? Juice? Coffee? Tea? Oh I've not got any tea," she frowned. "I need to go shopping," she mused as she scratched her nose.

The phrase got anything stronger than water? came to his mind, but he pushed it out. He didn’t need to drink the poor woman out of house and home. “No, no, I’m fine. Any more boxes?” He asked, looking  around. “I’m surprisingly good with flat-packed furniture. I’m great with my hands.” He teased. “No, really. My grandparents really instilled it in me that I couldn’t just rely on magic for everything, so I’ve been really handy since I was a kid. I like to tinker and use tools. It’s relaxing, in a mindless sort of way.” He admitted.

“Oh, fuck.” He started, covering his mouth after the swear. “Shit, I’m sorry—” He blushed at the second swear. “I mean, I’m Ashley.” He offered. “Ashley Morigan.”  He clarified, wondering if they’d heard of his family over here like they had in the States. His parents were pretty famous there for their adventuring and their books, many of which Ashley featured in.

“But, if I’m gonna be putting together your furniture, I think we ought to hit up a liquor store. I will be much happier doing it buzzed.” He teased. He really, honestly, had no place better to be and felt strange just waltzing into a pretty girl’s apartment he met off the street.

“Want me to buy you a drink? There’s a pub I passed a few blocks back, we could get something to eat too, maybe. Come back here refreshed.” He wasn’t that smooth, but he was trying. “Even if you were kidding, you could probably use a break, you think? Let the overly friendly American buy you a drink.”

She followed his gaze around the room with a sigh, raking a hand through her hair from her forehead to the nape of her neck as she shifted her weight to her left foot. "Actually, I think that was the last one," she added in mild surprise. It was a shame he hadn't come over sooner, it would have saved her the haulage. "Just unpacking but I won't subject you to that," she offered mildly.

Swiftly, Madeline laughed. "You're kidding." It was a statement, not a question. How refreshing to see someone raise their child not to be solely reliant on magic.

He seemed to trip over his tongue and she tried her best not to laugh. For someone with the confidence to saunter over to a complete stranger and offer to help, it seemed to be struggling. His name was Ashley - cute name, it suited him. "Nice to meet you," the tall blonde added politely, her head tilted as he gave his surname, too. It didn't ring any bells.

Still, she offered him a smile and a snort of laughter. "Oh sure," she said gamely about visiting an off-licence. "So you can hang my shelves upside down?" Maddie asked with a grin that made her dimples appear. She loathed building things. She'd never been very good. Her clumsiness wasn't cute, it was just annoying. Her hands always shook when she was making spun sugar decorations and she dreaded to think what would happen if she knocked over a wedding cake.

She seemed to be mulling it over as she chewed her lip. What was the worst that could happen? "You've got yourself a deal," she announced as she stepped towards the front door and picked up her jacket off the hook on the wall. She blinked. "Do you want to buy me a drink, Ashley?" She countered. " Of course I want a drink," she admitted, holding the door open for him to exit before she trotted down the stairs next to him. He'd said refreshed, he definitely meant absolutely trollied.

Amused, she shot him a side-long glance. "You are friendly," she admitted as she slid her hands into her pockets. "Are you all like that?" Madeline asked. She'd heard things about Americans - they were friendly, had mega-watt perfect smiles, were overly optimistic and made tea in a microwave (perish the thought). He had a point, though, she could use a break.

She walked close to Ashley through the streets, back in the direction he mentioned a pub that he'd passed by earlier. He'd mentioned food but she didn't know if pub grub in France was as good as it was back home. "You can buy me that cider," she announced to Ashley with a smile.