The clock's hands ticked steadily past the minutes, and a tall, silver-blond haired woman paced in front of it, looking over her shoulder every few minutes to keep track of the time. She was wearing a fancy pink silk evening gown, and she had clipped her hair back ever-so-neatly, so as to show of her perfect part-veela face.
All this in preparation for a visitor she was expecting, and, if the clock was correct, he should have arrived over half an hour ago.
However, this boy was special, and she was willing to wait a bit longer for him, in case he decided to show up after all. It was Valentine's Day, and he had promised to take her out to dinner for the occasion, since they had been dating for six months now.
Fleur Delacour had been all too ready to accept his invitation, and had not even considered he might back out on the very evening of Valentine's Day without the slightest warning. She was to wrapped up in how perfect he was, and how, after really talking to him for only an hour, she had decided he was "the one". This boy was the one, and she didn't care if he showed up two hours late, so long as he showed up.
Some people frowned upon claims of love at first sight, and Fleur wasn't going to argue, as she herself found the notion very sporadic and unreliable. Love at first talk was a different matter entirely, for Fleur believed you could tell alot about a person by how they introduced themselves, how they listened (or didn't), or how polite they were (or not).
So, running a hand through her fine hair, Fleur paced once more, then stopped to watch the second hand on the clock tick for a few moments.
Where could he be? Surely he must feel the same way for her as she felt for him. She had even planned on taking a huge step tonight and telling him she loved him! Why did he have to keep her waiting like this?
Sighing, she walked to the living room and sank down on the loveseat. He had to come, he just had to!
She slumped sideways a bit, and laid her head against the arm of the loveseat, ignoring the fact that her perfectly brushed hair would most likely be untidy upon standing up. She stared at the grandfather clock in the corner of the room for quite some time before drifting off to sleep.
An hour passed, and still she slept...two hours, and still Fleur could only dream about the boy she had been so anxious to see.
Finally, after three hours, as the last rays of the setting sun pierced the rosy skies, there was a polite knock on the door.
Still lost in her blissful oblivion, Fleur did not hear it, so her mother came down to answer the door.
The graceful figure in pink with her silvery blonde head laid lightly against the arm of the sofa was the first thing to meet the newcomers eyes as Mrs. Delacour led him to the living room before leaving them alone.
He only watched in silence for a few moments as the girl breathed in and out in the steady rhythm of sleep. He could have watched her all night, but something told him he had better talk to her today, of all days, because he had promised to do so. It was Valentine's Day, and every other girl Fleur knew would be spending the evening with her sweetheart, Fleur deserved to have her own romantic evening, if she still wanted him.
He took three long strides forward before gently resting a hand upon her shoulder. Lord, how he did love this woman! No one had ever thought Bill Weasley would find a girl who could capture his heart and keep it..there, Fleur had proven them wrong. He was sure that Fleur Delacour was the one; the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
Tonight, he had planned on telling her how much he loved her, but then the bank had received an urgent patron who had to have everything in his vault removed and examined for fraud...who knows how it could have been frauded in Gringotts, but the man refused to leave until a thorough investigation proved nothing to be amiss, and everything was returned to the vault, at long last.
He knew he had let her down in not arriving on time.
She stirred beneath his hand, and her long eyelashes fluttered slightly before her eyelids opened to reveal the silver-blue orbs beneath. They locked on his own brown eyes, and she was on her feet before he could manage an apology.
"Fleur, I'm sorry, I know it's past ten, but if you'd still like to have dinner with me-"
She cut him off by placing one slender finger over his lips, "I would love that."
Relief washed over Bill and he ran a hand through his long, red hair, wondering what he should say.
Fortunately, Fleur removed the necessity from him, "But first, I have something I need to tell you."
Merlin, her French accent was so hot, "Sure," Bill replied.
She placed her hands against the sides of his face and leaned up to be just centimeters from kissing him, "William Arthur Weasley," her scent was overpowering, and Bill knew right now he wanted nothing more than to kiss her perfect rosebud lips until he could kiss no more, "I love you."
He barely had time to register her declaration before she closed the last of the gap and kissed his lips ever so tenderly, letting her arms creep around his neck to hold him close.
Bill wasted no time in wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to himself so that they were pressed together. He broke of the kiss only to murmur in reply, "And I love you, Fleur Isabelle Delacour."
Their lips met again, and both fell back against the loveseat, closely entwined as they completely forgot about dinner.
Afterwards, Fleur could honestly tell all of her friends that she had had the very best Valentine's Day evening ever that night, even though she hadn't gotten her romantic, candle-lit dinner until nearly midnight.