Of Life, Love And Weasleys
Chapter Four: Buttercream
"You look like the sort of lad who'd like to buy a little ivory," the expensively-dressed man drawls. He smells of coconuts and Victoire clearly doesn't like the smell, the way she's trying to politely pinch her nose and back away. "Twenty galleons a kilogram, absolute bargain!"
"No, thank you, we just want to enjoy our holiday," Teddy says, taking Victoire's hand and walking as fast as he can without running away from the man.
"How dare he?" Victoire shouts as they reach the beach again. "Elephants are an endangered species and he's killing them just for their tusks!"
"Don't worry yourself about things you have no control over," Teddy soothes her. He lies down on the sand and hands her a bottle of sun-screen. "Do my back, would you?"
"You could just use the spells," she laughs, kneeling next to him on their orange blanket.
"I know, but that wouldn't be anywhere near as much fun as you doing it for me," he says, grinning up at her. "Besides, my wands all the way over there in that bag, and I can't be bothered going to get it. It's too bloody hot."
"Well, when you wanted to come on holiday here, I did warn you it would too hot for someone accustomed to British weather," she chides gently, squirting the cold liquid onto his back and carefully rubbing it into every inch of exposed skin.
"I can see why the massage parlour's had so many more customers since you started there," Teddy says in a voice of complete and utter contentment. "Mostly men looking for a date with you."
"I've already got a man that I intend of going on every date for the rest of my life with," Victoire whispers. "There, you're done." She put the bottle back into their bag and lay down next to him, turning her head to smile into his eyes.
"I do adore you, little cabbage of mine," Teddy murmurs, grinning at her affronted expression.
"Well, I was going to kiss you, but if you're going to call me a cabbage, I won't!" she exclaims, sitting up and straightening the sarong wrapped around her waist.
"It's a French term of endearment, Vic," he retorts sweetly. "I would've thought you'd know that, having a French mother."
"I did know that, Teddy," Victoire says, smiling at him. "I just like teasing you." He grins and kisses her.
"I swear, they should just rename this beach 'Snog Beach'" someone grumbles from behind them. "It's all people ever do."
"I am sorry, sir, we'll return to our hotel room," Teddy mumbles vaguely, seizing the bag and the blanket and running up the beach with a giggling, flushed Victoire in tow.
Back in the hotel, they kiss all the way up to their floor in the lift, both of them secretly wishing they'll get stuck. With Victoire's legs wound around his waist, Teddy just manages to drop their bags, shut the door and lock it before they're on the bed.
He wakes up next morning to the chattering of monkeys and the squawks of parrots drifting in through the open window. He trails a finger along smooth ivory skin, admiring where it joins seamlessly with his weather-beaten skin. He lays his head back on the fluffy white pillows and breathes in the scent of buttercream that lingers on her hair.
I keep writing these way too long to be considered drabbles. Anyway, it's been too long since I wrote TeddyVictoire, so I guess I'm making up for it ;)
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