[TTD] that's amore. [torrence]

"So, what is it you do for a living?" Perdita asked politely as she sipped her wine, tucking her silky hair behind her ear as she waited for a reply. The restaurant they were in was an Italian one with atmospheric lighting, framed photos of the country on the exposed brick walls and a view of the chefs working in the kitchen. It was busy with most tables occupied and the warm sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses filling up the long periods of uncomfortable silence.

Callum was nice but Perdy wasn't sure if she wanted nice. He was her type - tall, dark, clean shaven and his suit fit him nicely - but he was a bit...dull. He'd arrived on time and held the door open for her. He'd ordered them a nice bottle of wine and was polite to the waiter. He'd even gone as far to tell her that she looked "pretty". Perdita was miffed because she thought she looked drop dead gorgeous.

Her dress had no place for a casual dinner date. Her red lips stretched into a smile as she ran her finger around the rim of her wine glass before it promptly dropped; Callum revealed he was a librarian.

She was going to murder Mary. "Oh," Perdita replied with a tinkling laugh which sounded strained to her ears. "Fascinating," she went on as she limped through conversation. Callum said he had been working late, restoring a book from the Middle Ages. Painstaking work, apparently. She nodded along encouragingly, her eyes wide in faux amazement as he detailed his work. Did she know much about the Silk Road? No, she did not.

"It's a wonderful curry house on the King's Road," Perdita joked and shifted in her seat when Callum hadn't laughed along in response. She cleared her throat. Dinner had been lovely and she'd ordered her favourite, pasta alle vongole. She'd been half way through opening up her clams before Callum confessed that he had a pretty severe shellfish allergy. Thank Merlin kissing was now off the agenda. Perdita was almost about to give up when her attention was directed to the door.

A head of thick dark hair made her blink in mild confusion. It wasn't until she saw him walk into the restaurant, like a panther with his identifiable swagger, that Perdy felt her heart drop. "Oh fuck." Unable to help herself, she slouched in her seat, drawing her menu closer to her as she dropped her gaze and tried to curl herself up into a ball.

@Torrence Regan

"You'll be fine, just do what you do best. Reed says you can convince the devil to do your bidding," Torr murmured with a smirk, his hand at the small of the woman's back as he stepped through the door of the restaurant, a petite blonde witch one step ahead of him. He had accompanied Nell here, but he wasn't planning on staying for long. Antoine, the chef here, had a thing for cute blondes and barely tolerated him so Torr didn't think it would be an issue if he dipped halfway through, giving some excuse or another. Although, he did have to catch a portkey to France later. Besides as much as Nell was anxious about it, as restaurant manager to the new venue he and Reed were working on opening together, he knew this quiet, demure side of her was just one side of the coin. When she wanted something, she usually got it, her fierce stubbornness coming out to play with her ambition. And she wanted Antoine as their lead chef, enough in fact that she had the balls to suggest this meeting right in his own restaurant, Torr was just there to make introductions, a task better suited to Reed but apparently the dipshit was 'busy' with something else.

Nell mentioned their names to the hostess, who escorted them to the bar as she slipped to the back, and Torr ordered his usual top-shelf vodka as he leaned against the bar, wearing his usual dark boots, dark slacks with a dark grey button up, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his favorite black leather jacket over top. It was when he took a cursory glance around the place that he saw her. Perdy?

It only took him a second longer to realize she was sitting opposite a bloke who's back was turned to him. Ice burned into his veins as he excused himself from Nell with a hard word and he was at her table seconds later. He only glanced once at the guy opposite her. He looked like someone he could punch in the face for no reason and the guy would probably thank him for it. He disregarded him easily as he pinned Perdita with his gaze. "What the fuck is this?" he asked, the anger showing in his voice. Somewhere in his mind he knew they hadn't committed to anything exclusive, that she could date whoever she wanted just like he did, she could wear tight red dresses for other men, she could enjoy someone else's company, but to hell with that rational because all he could feel was anger and jealousy and envy.

"Who the fuck are you," he asked finally addressing the guy, his expression dark, menacing, only feeling slightly mollified when the guy looked like he was going to shit himself right there.

Slinking low in her seat, her big bright eyes surveyed Torrence from her hiding place. She hadn't seen him in a few days so it made sense that he'd be here with another woman because the man couldn't function by himself. Perdita scowled at her. She couldn't see the woman's face but she was blonde, curvy, had a lovely laugh like a peal of tinkling bells. Perdy hated her already.

But he'd seen her and a flash of panic gripped her heart. Hastily, she sat back up and fluffed her hair, fixing a pleasant smile on her face as she raised a hand in greeting. "Oh hello," she cooed as Torrence arrived, his tone harsh and his face even more so. She blinked. "A date," she answered him, her eyebrows arched in question, as though he wasn't doing the exact same thing.

"Callum," she said to the other man who looked as though he'd rather be anywhere else but here. "This is Torrence Regan. Torrence, this is Callum Blake," Perdita introduced the men with a smile, stretching her leg beneath the table to bump Callum's knee in what she hoped was a nonverbal cue for him not to panic. Her attention was on  her date. It was a bad date, terrible really, but Torrence didn't know that. "Torrence is my --" Perdy faltered.

Her what? On/off booty call? Friend with benefits? Personal demon? She didn't finish her statement. She just waved her hand vaguely as she gave up. If she couldn't define what she and Torr were, poor Callum had no chance in understanding it. Her eyes slid to the blonde at the bar. "I could ask you the same question," she stated to the Irishman, her tone steely.

"But," she ploughed on after she'd cleared her throat. "Callum and I are just about to order dessert," she reached across the table and touched the back of the librarian's hand, only to have him pull his hand away. Perdy scowled, annoyed both at Torrence's arrival and Callum's lack of backbone. If it had been any other man, she was sure they would have challenged Torrence and caused a scene. And Perdita loved the drama.

Turning her attention back to the Potioneer, her voice was low. "Can we talk about this another time?" She hissed through her teeth, her smile forced before her eyes widened. "No, don't go," she said quickly, sounding panicked as Callum looked to be ready to pack up and leave. "He's leaving," Perdita flapped her hand at Torrence dismissively. "You're not staying for tiramisu?"

Torrence is my-- When Perdy faltered, Torr stepped in. "Boyfriend," he lied, aiming a smile at Callum that didn't reach his eyes. It wasn't true and he knew that was his fault, but the hell with all that if she thought he was just going to slink away after seeing her out with some other guy.

It was easy to see why Callum would pull his hand away from hers, but he didn't like that she seemed hurt by it. "Really? Because it seems like you and Callum were just saying goodbye," Torr told her instead with a pointed look at the other guy as the Regan took a step closer, putting his hand on the back of Perdy's chair as he gazed at Callum. He was seething at finding her here with him, at her attempts to get Callum to stay and him to go, but Torr was also finding this whole interaction strangely amusing. Perhaps because it was so easy to ruin what she had called a blind date. Perhaps because he liked staking his claim even when he probably shouldn't.

"I'm not," he contradicted her happily, a smirk on his lips as he nodded to the door for Callum. "I'll cover your meal, have a lovely night," he told him, not at all sincere about it though. When Callum was gone, he took a step around her so he could gaze down at her, his smirk still turning up the corners of his lips, his cobalt blue eyes gleaming. "That was easy enough," he summed up neatly before he let his gaze trail down her dress. "Why haven't you worn that for me, Red?"

Movement towards the front of the restaurant caught his eye and he glanced up to see Nell with Antoine and he could see she was in full flow. She didn't need him anymore, if she ever did at all. With a glance at his wristwatch, noting the time, and mentally calculating how much time he had left. Introducing Nell to Antoine had only been one thing on his to do list and yet he found himself wanting to forget everything now that Red was here. And especially dressed like this.

He brought his hand up to touch his thumb to her chin. "Want to go to Paris? I have to catch a portkey in 15."

Boyfriend.

Perdita looked at Torrence as though he'd just grown two heads. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him, a mixture of disbelief and frustration coursing through her veins. She wanted to laugh. He had no desire to date her but as soon as another man was on the scene, they were supposedly a couple? If his intention had been to shut her up, mission accomplished. Her eyes flicked to Callum's to catch his disgusted expression and her heart dropped. But it was quickly replaced by a warm and fuzzy feeling in the prospect of being Torrence's girlfriend, even in make believe. She needed another drink. Quickly.

His hand was on the back of her chair and Perdy jumped. She knew exactly where he was standing and she didn't need to look at him to see his hand was mere inches away from her bare shoulder. She really should have tried harder to keep Callum at the table. He was a really nice guy. Handsome and clever, he was every normal girl's dream. He was just a bit...vanilla.

With a dramatic toss of his napkin, Callum was gone and Perdy went to stand in order to call him back, but found herself sitting back down quickly as Torrence smirked and rounded on her. "Are you actually insane?" The tall brunette hissed at him, her eyes flicking back and forth across his face. "Just what is your fucking problem?" She asked, sounding exasperated, as one hand came up to run through her hair before she stopped at the mention of her dress.

"It's new," she explained, her fingers brushing against her collarbone to draw attention to the thin straps. "And because you don't deserve it," Perdita snapped, her annoyance growing by the second. Her eyes followed Torrence's as they landed on the cute blonde and Perdy let out a scoff of derision. "Unbelievable," she announced with a shake of her head as she rudely threw her napkin down on her plate. He'd just torpedoed her date but he was busy making googly eyes at another woman.

Pushing her chair back angrily and swinging her long legs around to stand, Torrence's touch on her face made her still and she swallowed. Swifty, her eyes narrowed. "What are you doing in Paris?" She questioned him warily before she shrugged. "I love Paris," she announced unnecessarily as she elegantly stood up and tilted her chin, her face now just out of his reach as she strode out of the restaurant and out into the street.

They walked in silence, their hands close to touching, as a few people shot her curious glances in her gown before they arrived at the portkey, tucked just out of sight. Without waiting for an invitation, Perdita simply slipped her fingers into Torrence's before they touched the deflated football and were sucked through space, landing soon in a quiet Parisian side street. She looked at her surroundings, surmising they weren't terribly far from the seventh arrondissement.  Checking her dress, she looked over at him. "Are you alright?" She asked, concerned as she reached out a hand. "You look a little green," Perdita finally said as she peered at him curiously.

He saw the look Perdy was giving him and he gazed back at her, a slight smirk on his lips, before he turned his gaze toward Callum. He really wanted to laugh at how one little word seemed to derail her. He knew he might pay for that little joke later, but right now it was hilarious. Even more so when he realized that Callum was much easier prey than he could have imagined. "Have a nice evening," he called after the guy before he turned back to look at Perdy, who was now standing and giving him the full effect her gorgeous skin tight red dress. Mm.

And she was furious at him. Double win.

"It was just a joke, love. Calm down," he said as he pulled out some money and dropped more than he needed to onto the table, his gaze still tracing over her curves even as she sat back down. He really did like her in red. "What?" he asked with a frown as she snapped at him and he gazed down at her, their eyes meeting, icy blue to cobalt.

At her question, he shook his head. "What does it matter?" he asked, answering a question with a question before he went on, "Besides, you love Paris," he said at the same time she did. A grin curved up his lips. As she stood up and walked out, he quirked his brows. Apparently that was a yes. He'd take it. He gave a smart salute to Nell on the way out and caught up with Perdy a few moments later, grasping her hand to guide her to the portkey hidden a block away. He felt her small hand in his tighten just before they both touched the portkey and he felt the familiar, hated sensation of being pushed and pulled out of existence.

His feet hit the Parisian pavement moments later and immediately, he knew something was wrong. He dropped her hand and turned his back, his stomach rolling, his mouth going dry and a familiar heaving sensation occurring just as Perdy asked after him. He held up a finger in her direction before he threw up all over the brick wall, bending over at the waist and throwing up spectacularly in the small side street they had been dumped into. He placed both hands on the wall as he squeezed his eyes shut and hoped to hell that was over with. He hated throwing up.

It was a joke, apparently. Perdita blinked at Torrence passively, a single brow arched. "Ha ha," she replied, completely deadpan. She knew he was all kinds of messed up but his sense of humour needed looking into. Was she upset he'd scared her date off? No, not really, but she was annoyed all the same. Mainly because she was glad that he had.

She let out an irritated sigh, arms crossed like a petulant child as she blew at a lock of her hair. "Last time I went on a jaunt with you, look what happened to me," she answered him flatly. "How do you know so much about me?" Perdita asked, irked, more with herself because she'd obviously offered up too much information about herself. Torrence had remembered her birthday, how she liked her coffee, that she hated mushrooms and now, her favourite city.

The familiar rush of the port key distracted her, at least Paris was enough of her diversion to forget why she was mad in the first place. Torrence had his back to her suddenly and her eyes widened at the unmistakable sound of someone chundering. The tall brunette winced in sympathy as he hunched over and she took a step closer, patting his back between the shoulder blades from arm's length away.

"Well," she began. "If that isn't instant karma, then I don't know what is," Perdita said smoothly, the tiniest hint of a smile curving her full lips. "Serves you right," she added snippily and unhelpfully. Perdy wrinkled her nose. At least the option of making out was now off the table.

"Come on," she stepped back as she smoothed her hands down dress and over her thighs, her bright eyes looking around and spotting a line of cafes, thinking she could get him a glass of water. Her apartment wasn't too far from where the port key had dropped them off but she'd be damned if she told him. "Or wait here. I'll get you a pint," she offered as she turned and ambled off in the direction she thought the sound of people came from.

Torr only grinned wider as she didn't appreciate his joke. He thought it was funny, hysterical actually. He wished she could have seen her own expression. His own expression fell a bit when she mentioned the 'last time' she went with him someone, memories of Edinburgh flooding back to him with a frown. The particular memory of Perdy looking up at him with those wide, unseeing eyes was something he didn't want to linger on. "That won't happen again," he told her, leaving no room for argument.

He wasn't doing that kind of errand in Paris anyway, but even if he was, he would make her wait outside the shop. If she even agreed to come with him the next time he was on a business call. She wasn't good at listening to him anyway so maybe he really would be better off not bringing her along in the future. Tonight, however, in Paris was a different story.

He felt her hand against his back and he shrugged away from it, hating the pitying feel it had. Torr felt his stomach rolling again and he almost turned his head to throw up all over her shoes. She was lucky it was only dry heaves now. Instant karma? Fuck that. After a moment, he decided the feeling had passed, or at least enough so that he stood up a little straighter. Turning his head to the side, he spit the rank aftertaste in his mouth and wiped the back of his arm across his mouth. "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled.

Taking a step away from the vomit, he pressed his back to the brick wall, sucking in fresh air and eyeing her as she glanced around. He knew she loved Paris and she came here a lot, but did she know it better than he did? Probably. He was only here a few times a year. The French were too pretentious for him. "Where?" he asked as she asked him to come along, but she was off before she answered and he caught up to her with just a few steps. "A pint from where?"

His tone of voice made it clear to her that the matter was closed and she fell silent, hands up in surrender as she admitted defeat. Torrence hadn't answered her question so as always, when he didn't, Perdita defaulted into believing it was of a nefarious nature. Happy to be left to her own devices in the French capital, she thought she might be able to get some fresh bread or those cute little macarons she liked, while she would inevitably be left waiting outside for him.

But they clearly weren't going to be doing anything, judging by the way he shirked off her hand. Letting it drop to her side, she exhaled as she tilted her head back to the sky, as though seeking some kind of divine strength. Torrence turned his head and she jumped backwards in fright, lest she get vomit on her shoes and frowned at him quickly. Why did he have to be so prickly?

"Around the corner," Perdita offered vaguely, heels click-clacking on the broken cobbles as she meandered, a hand reaching out to run her fingers along the wall of the side street as though she didn't have a care in the world.

"There are loads of cafes and bars," she went on, long legs striding as she peeked out from the alleyway, taking a left. "They mainly serve Stella and stuff," she wrinkled her nose in distaste. She adored the French but Stella Artois was a stain on their legacy. "This is my arrondissement," Perdita finally came clean as they walked, the streets opening wider, the limestone buildings glinting in the sun.

"There you go," Perdy offered, nodding in the direction of an outdoor cafe underneath a large maroon coloured awning. "I'd invite you into my apartment but I don't have any beer so," she shrugged casually, hands on her hips.

"Around the corner where?" Torr asked, impatient and getting irritated. He hated getting sick and he honestly hadn't gotten ill like this from portkeys in years. He didn't want to think if this lovely little habit was making a comeback. That feeling of getting pulled back right below his navel was worse than a punch to the gut in some ways.

The way Perdy seemed blissfully unaffected grated against him. Stella? He cursed lowly. It was better than nothing, but certainly not his first choice. He was glancing at some of the cafes and bars they passed as they emerged from the alley, the street lights flickering down on them in golden waves.

Then it clicked.

"Your arrondissement?" he asked. Even the French had a pretentious way of naming their neighborhoods, but the question still lingered between them. "You have an apartment here?" he asked, just before she mentioned it herself and he narrowed his gaze. He had known her for how long and yet he hadn't known that? It feel similar to the Singapore weekend, but it felt different when the situation was reversed. He grabbed her arm, pulling her around to face him as he rose his brows. "I want to see your apartment," he said, half asking, half demanding as per his usual.

"There," Perdita answered, gesturing vaguely to the area they were headed toward. She was still annoyed at him crashing her date. If the roles were reversed, she'd also be angry but she wouldn't approach him. She would just take the simpler route and ignore him. Poor Callum. He would probably be upset but Perdy suddenly couldn't even remember his last name.

"Yes," she answered Torrence quickly as she blinked placidly. He seemed surprised and she arched her eyebrows in response. "I have apartments everywhere," she replied, as though multiple holiday homes were a common occurrence. Besides, he had a secret flat in Singapore and he probably had boltholes all over the place, so he couldn't act offended by her revelations but she let out a grunt as she was swung around, stopping herself just in time before they collided.

"Please," she reminded him in a sing-song voice before she scowled. Her family didn't use the Paris apartment often, only for perhaps the night when one of them had to attend a meeting and didn't fancy catching the last portkey back to London. Perdy parted her plump lips to refuse but found herself relenting with a heavy sigh. "Fine," she grumbled as she jerked her arm from his grasp and marched down the streets that were slowly starting to fill up.

The walk was a matter of minutes as they emerged onto a quiet, tree-lined avenue and she stopped outside a pretty apartment building. She unlocked the powder blue door with a wave of her hand and waited for Torrence to enter. "No lift," she announced, sounding unapologetic as she embarked on climbing the black and twisting spiral staircase to five floors up before pushing the door open. The space was light and airy and smelled faintly of orange blossom.

Turning on her heel, she placed her hands on Torr's chest and gave him a gentle shove to make him sit on her plush sofa before she left to enter the kitchen and fill a glass of water. "Drink," she insisted as she held it out, perching on the arm of the sofa to watch him. "Are you going to be sick again?" She peered at him. "If so, you can sleep in the guest bedroom."

"Like where else?" he asked immediately, his brows raising as he wondered what other little places she hadn't told him about, somehow simultaneously wondering what other men she was sharing these places with if not him. He didn't like that idea at all. Her reminder of bullshit niceties was met with an unamused gaze and he shook his head once, knowing she'd probably cave and smirking when she did. Stomping off in front of him, he was quick to follow.

They were there in less than a few minutes and Torr followed her in and then up the staircase. Of course, it had to be a fucking five floor walk up, but the apartment was nice, airy and he glanced around, pleased to find no signs of other men's coats or jackets or shoes lying about. He was looking at a framed photo of a younger Perdita with her family before she shoved him onto her couch and he grinned up at her, relaxing against the back as his legs took up most of the room. Torr leaned up to reach out a hand to her, but called out a 'hey' as she left him before returning with a glass. "I said I'm fine, Red," he told her even as he took the glass and drank the whole thing.

He set it down on the oval coffee table before he stood, standing over her where she sat on the arm of the sofa. "Who said anything about sleeping?" he asked, his fingertips trailing over her shoulder and down her arm until he grasped her hand. With a smirk, he pulled her up and down a hallway that he guessed lead to a bedroom. He planned to fully appreciate her in that red dress and whatever she had put on under it, all notions of the errand he had come here to do forgotten.

/end

"I'm not giving you an address," Perdita replied with a laugh. Not that he'd need one. Torrence had already found her in both Italy and Greece with no information from her. Once upon a time, when she'd been considerably more naive, she'd thought it romantic. Looking back, it was creepy and borderline stalker-y. Paris, however, was huge. Sprawling and labrinth-like and after getting him back to normal, she was all for kicking him back out.

He downed the water and Perdy watched with a raised eyebrow. "I know you are," she replied, crossing her legs at the knee. Torrence might be a bit woozy and dehydrated but he did look okay. She was doing him a favour. No one liked to be bothered when they were feeling unwell but she wished he wasn't so prickly when she tried to help him.

As he stood, Perdita reclined, goosebumps rising on the exposed flesh of her forearms as Torrence's fingers grazed her skin. "No," she smiled with a shake of her head. "You can't apparate after that spectacle," she said smoothly but his hand was in hers and she was on her feet, tripping over him, her eyes wide in alarm.

"You need to brush your teeth first!" She insisted as she followed him down the hallway, maneuvering him so he picked the door to her bedroom. Stepping in, she nudged the door shut with her toes and a giggle before she grabbed a fistful of his shirt and hauled him closer.

[done!]