Some things are meant to be forgotten- to vanish once their time has
passed; things like spiteful words, childish name-calling and what one had
for breakfast all fit into that category. Other things, like love and
friendships, are meant to last forever, even if only in the form of an
essence that lingers for eternity- haunting the air and never truly dying
out completely. Whether these essences of the latter group seem good or bad
is irrelevant, for each effect they take is beneficial in the end.
Darkness encompassed the terrain of the French countryside, turning innocent tree branches into monsters' claws and giving the crisp midnight zephyrs an eerie undercurrent to them. From their place upon a grassy knoll, a pair of brilliant blue eyes gazed over the rolling that seemed to stretch forever, taking in the familiar sight. It had been a little over two years since the man had been there, but St. Valery en Caux still remained exactly as he had remembered it. The town was still small, with buildings congregated around the tiny bay that jutted inland from the sea; the beach was still lined with rocks and bordered by towering rocky bluffs; and the air still held that indescribable smell of adventure and amusement. One might wonder just why Orlando Corvello Lorenz had decided to return to a place he had not seen in so long, but that question can be answered in a single word: love. Then again, depending on one's perspective, that single word response might ought to be "stupidity". After spending nearly a year in a relationship with a beautiful, smart, amazingly enchanting young woman, the man had found himself to have had fallen out of love with her and realized that he was still undoubtedly attracted to one Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance and it was for her- or rather for the prospect of her- that he had traveled halfway around the world.
Realizing exactly where he was and what he was about to do, the man paused a moment, sitting himself atop the hill he stood upon and wondering if he ought to just turn back now. He was tired, and exhaustion didn't exactly breed coherence. What if, instead of rectifying something, he was only making another mistake, but was too weary to realize it? It had, after all, taken him quite a long time to get to where he was, not meaning it had taken him a long time to apparate there (even though it had), but referring to how long he had remained in Maine after the summer cruise, isolated and brooding. Then again, most of that time had been spent dwelling on the topic of Faithe.
He had passed too many hours simply lying upon the cottage's roof wondering about her- where she was, what she was doing, if she was holding up alright. Though he was never sure about the first two, the enchanted star, which never left the man's possession, always answered the third with its reasonably healthy silver flow. Perhaps it could have answered the other two as well, but he dared not try to feel Faithe's emotions; he didn't need or want any more reminders of how badly he had hurt her- how badly he [I]was still hurting[/I] her.
He knew that, without a doubt, she was in love with him, and it hurt to know that, beyond having her heart broken since he was unable to return such a pure, unsullied emotion, she was probably still blaming herself for his mistakes by means of some ludicrous reason her mind had concocted. He had tried, though, to make her understand, and he had said all he could. There wasn't a thing he could do for her when he didn't have the heart to love her the way she wanted him to; his heart belonged to Demi still and until that song had played itself out, it couldn't ever be given to another. Faithe, or whomever he was with, deserved his full and complete soul and being, not just the part that he was free to give. Things were better for everyone this way.
And so, there he was- five weeks, one absurdly long broomstick ride and a reasonably easy locating charm later- sitting atop a hill looking down into the valley where the little town of St. Valery en Caux, France (the very village he had taken Demeter to all that time ago) resided. For a moment he had wondered what the woman would be doing there, but that inquiry faded from him mind quickly as he recalled her French heritage and blew off the coincidence of her being in the exact same place they had visited together. Perhaps she was visiting family, or maybe doing some marine research, or maybe she'd eventually wound up becoming involved with history- that muggle subject she'd always loved- and decided to position herself close to Normandy Beach for that reason.
Walking down the narrow road into town at three in the morning (which was really only 9 o'clock Manhattan time) filled the man with an odd sense of serenity. The sky was clouded over and crisp zephyrs blew through the air, but the eeriness one would expect to find there and the fear that would be expected to be coursing through the man's veins were absent. The only things running through Orlando's mind were memories, intertwined with a thread of hope that everything would work out. Exactly how that would happen and what he was planning on doing when he finally reached Demeter was still a mystery to our young hero, but he knew he had to see her, to talk to her, to hold her, to kiss her. to make her understand that, once more, he'd been a fool, but that, this time, he wanted to fix things.
Arriving into town, the hallowed moonlight, which shone through the overcast sky, reflected in his eyes as they flitted around. Reaching into the pocket of his brown duster, his fingers wrapped themselves around a small wooden box to which a slender silver chain, adorned every three links with a dolphin charm, was affixed. Opening the box, he held it in his right hand while procuring his wand with his left. Pointing it at the box, he whispered a quiet incantation, letting the charmed compass guide him to the owner of the bracelet.
***
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
One by one, silver tweezers had plucked off the light brown hairs of Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance's eyebrows, shaping them into perfect crescents. Reaching a hand, whose artificial nails wore a perfect French manicure, up, her slender fingers had wiped away the stray hairs, smoothing down the remaining ones. Dark green eyes had stared back in the mirror for a moment and the crescent-shaped eyebrows had furrowed for a moment before resuming their normal position.
Meticulously, the young woman then outlined her emerald eyes with a coffee- colored pencil. Next, she had caked her face with foundation, rubbing her fingers all over her face in circles, trying desperately to cover the few imperfections her skin had, and wishing that she had paid a little more attention back at Rosencrantz when they covered healing spells. Sighing, she had reached for a small, silver compact, and frosted her face with matching powder. Gazing up in the mirror again, she had smiled, somewhat pleased with the reflection. Almost perfect.
Reluctantly, she continued painting on her face. In about ten minutes, after sweeping rosy powder onto her cheeks, spreading glittery silver eye goop atop her eyelids, applying jet-black mascara to her thick lashes, lining her lips with a deep maroon pencil, and painting cranberry gloss atop them, Demeter had, at last, considered herself finished, and ready for that night's adventure.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
At the quiet rapping, the woman's lips had curled upwards in an excited grin. Jerôme- her date for the evening- had arrived. Parting her golden hair on the left side of her head, she had wrapped the strands into a messy bun and hurried down the stairs, red colored leather shoes clicking softly on the wooden stairs of her small loft apartment. Opening the door, the young woman had beamed. Jerôme was a nice young man whom she'd met on the beach a few days earlier, and, more than that, he was most certainly an attractive young man. Tall, dark and handsome- he fit Demeter's typical choice in men.
All that preparation seemed useless and all the excitement had faded as Demeter's eyes flickered open just then. Sure, it had seemed nice, but look where it had gotten her: wrapped in the arms of yet another random Frenchman as she laid naked in his bed. It wasn't love, but it was a lifestyle- one that she had become quite accustomed to, also. After all, wasn't all the crap she dealt with worth that one moment during each night she could close her yes and imagine it was Orlando's breath warming her neck, Orlando's fingers waltzing gently upon her back sending shivers along her spine and Orlando's lips softy caressing her skin? She certainly thought so.
It wasn't that Demeter longed for the man so desperately that she had to resort to hallucinations, but rather that she longed to feel loved, as Orlando had once made her feel, that caused her to resort to the "date 'em, screw 'em, and ditch 'em" lifestyle. Though what she and Orlando had had was over now, and he had moved on and found someone else, Demeter was still searching. though she was going about it in entirely the wrong fashion.
Sighing quietly to herself as the empty feeling settled into her once more, Demeter lifted the arms off of her body and slid silently off of the bed. Jerôme [I]was[/I] a nice guy, but he had been a little too heavy of a drinker for Demeter's liking. Picking her clothes up off the floor, she hastily- yet quietly- redressed herself in a pair of indigo hue jeans, a deep green tank top with magenta-colored ribbon straps and her tennis shoes, and threw her hair back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. Exiting the small "downtown" apartment, she began to wander back down towards the beach, hoping to take a quick dip in the icy cold sea to clear her mind (and cleanse her body) before returning to her own place.
Slipping off her shoes and tucking her socks inside them, her feet touched the cold rocks of France's northeast shore. Her arms reached down to lift her shirt over her head, but the sound of approaching footsteps stopped her. Pulling her wand from its place between her belt and her pants (supple enough was the corkscrew shaft that it could easily bend around the curve of her waist), she pointed it at the intruder.
"Qui est-ce?" she called into the darkness, daring the silhouette to reveal its identity.
Eyes lingering upon the woman's lithe figure, it took a moment for the silhouette to reply. Taking a few steps closer, its head tilted inquisitively, taking in every aspect of the woman.
"Un ami, j'espere." Orlando said quietly.
He didn't really know quite how to react. This was the part he hadn't planned, and so everything from here on out would be complete improv.
"Orlando!?! What the hell are you doing here?"
Demeter's voice was harsh and spiteful, but still confused. Orlando had made it transparently clear in Manhattan that he wanted nothing to do with her and that he was with Faithe now. That was fine with her, really, it was. He'd hurt her enough, after all, and if he wasn't going to lust after her, she had no reason to do the same for him. She could do better than Orlando Lorenz; she could find someone who wouldn't freak out about sleeping with her, someone who'd always be there, and someone who'd take care of her forever. It would just take awhile.
Well, that certainly wasn't what he'd expected. It wasn't as though he'd though he would just sweep her into his arms, share a passionate kiss and have everything be alright, but. then again, he [I]had[/I] kind of thought that. [I]'Idiot.'[/I] he mused to himself. He ought to have known things couldn't be that easy.
Swallowing, he stepped forward again. His eyes grew a little more of a slate blue color as they stared into hers.
"Are you still in love with me?"
Drawing in a breath as he came closer to her, Demeter's body recoiled slightly from him, still wary as to what exactly his intentions were and why he'd come here. how he'd come here.
Then, at his questions, her eyebrows furrowed as more confusion set it. What sort of question was that? Was [I]he[/I] still in love with [I]her[/I]? Surely he couldn't be. Not after all this time. Besides, even if he was, didn't he have that Hope girl back in the states? He had had his chance to be with her- two chances, at that- and he'd turned her down both times. She couldn't let him hurt her again.
But, his words echoed in her mind, and she wondered what the answer to his question really was. [I]Did[/I] she love him? Shaking the thought out of her mind, her verdant eyes hardened as she shook her head almost disgustedly at him.
"How the hell am I supposed to answer that?" she retorted indignantly, placing her hands upon her hips.
Although he was slightly taken aback by the harshness of her words, Orlando didn't show it. Demeter had a right to be chary of him, and he hadn't the right to call her on it. He'd screwed up so many times, and too many of those mistakes had ended up hurting her; her anger was only justifiable.
"Truthfully," he replied quietly.
Shaking her head, Demeter merely stared at Orlando for a moment, wondering what was going on in the man's mind. This game was getting old quickly. What was he doing anyways? Trying to win her back somehow through his sincere yet cryptic phrases and questions? If that was his goal, he was certainly on the right track.
"Look, 'lando," she replied with a somewhat frustrated roll of her eyes, "What right do you have to ask me something as ridiculous as that when you don't even know how [I]you[/I] feel about me yourself?"
Demeter's words, at one point, may have been true, but Orlando was past confusion and bewilderment now. He had finally figured everything out and knew for certain that he was in love with Demeter, and only Demeter. She was his one desire, and if traveling halfway around the world didn't prove that to her, then only one thing could.
Closing the distance between the two, he ran his fingers gently down the side of her face, along her neck and ended up with his hand on her bare shoulder.
"I know exactly how I feel about you, Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance," he stated, gazing into her eyes with a look that radiated nothing but truth.
Wrapping a hand around her waist and bringing the other up around the back of her neck, he pressed his lips to hers gently, but with the slightest bit of urgency in their movement, kissing her warmly. Pulling back after a moment, his eyes stared back into hers again.
"I am completely in love with you," he whispered, "And I know it's taken me much too long to realize it, but I am, Demi. What happened that night.
"I let the guilt get to me, and it pushed me away from you. I couldn't stand to see you because I just kept thinking how much I'd hurt you and how sorry you'd be when you finally saw that. And then in Manhattan, just like I said, you found me again, and you tried so hard to make me see, but I didn't. I'm so sorry, Dem, I-"
"Shh."
Reaching up a finger and placing it upon Orlando's lips, Demeter silenced him. If there had ever been words she'd longed to hear, those had been the ones. It was true that she had gotten over Orlando, but hearing him whisper those words brought back that feeling she'd become addicted to- the feeling that she was wanted, desired, but, more than that, loved.
Without so much as a second thought, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pressed herself against him kissing him gently as she stood upon her tiptoes and stepped onto the top peak of one of the beach's jagged rocks.
Smiling through the kiss, Orlando arms wrapped around her waist and pressed her against him, lifting her up into the air.
"Everything's alright now," she whispered, looking up into his eyes as she broke her lips off of his.
Holding her in his arms, with the soft sound of water gently lapping the shoreline as they stood upon the beach in the darkness, everything certainly did seem alright. It was as though everything had just magically worked itself out. Opening his eyes, Orlando's whole face seemed to light up as he smiled at the beautiful woman within his arms.
"Yeah, it is," he replied, kissing her again before releasing her.
As his arms loosened from around her waist, Demeter let out a sort of teasing whine and sat carefully upon one of the rocks. Reaching up, she grasped Orlando's hand, roughly (but jokingly) pulling him down to sit next to her. A smile lit her face- one that made it appear as if the past two- ish years of their lives had never transpired. like they had never been apart.
Tilting her head slightly, Demeter's green eyes gazed up into Orlando's blue ones, and in that moment, something passed between the two that had been forgotten for so long. Orlando's hand reached out and made contact with her skin, creating a sort of spark that ran between them. Whatever fear Demeter had had was gone, and whatever guilt and remorse that had been holding Orlando back from doing something like this for so long had mysteriously vanished into thin air.
Slowly, his arm wound itself around her, turning her body into his own and his lips pressed upon hers, causing her to melt into him as he guided her down towards the ground. As her back hit the rocks rather roughly, the woman's eyes jolted open and she let out a shout of pain. Pulling back quickly, Orlando's eyes widened in trepidation.
"What is it?"
"Rocks." she replied half-groaning as she rubbed her back, unable to prevent herself from smirking ever-so-slightly.
"Oh." he replied somewhat vacantly, yet with just a hint of mischievous sincerity in his voice.
Smiling at him, the woman shook her head and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck after grabbing her discarded shoes by the laces with one of her hands.
"Hold on," she whispered, pressing him against her as she shut her eyes tightly.
A moment later, they were lying upon Demeter's bed and the spark that that first touch had ignited soon grew into a warm, blazing fire that didn't die out until dawn (if you get the drift).
***
The shrill call of a bird broke Orlando's peaceful slumber the next morning, causing his eyes to twitch suddenly and his mouth to slump into a grin once more. He yawned, and, blinking his eyes several times in succession, hoped that the dream he had had had been reality. The hope soon became a reality as he gazed upon the body of another beside him, slowly coming into focus. It was the best morning he'd ever awoken to. His arms still lay draped around her side and her head was nuzzled against his chest. Orlando sighed contentedly, finding himself to be in a surreal state of mind. This was what he had been longing for for so long.
Softly, the man leaned over and kissed Demeter upon the cheek. He felt lost in her embrace, unsure as to what lay ahead for them, but knowing all the same that whatever it was would be marvelous as long as they were together. The soft breath of Demi brushed against his face and he smiled cheerily. This is what he'd been missing for the longest of times: a second chance with Demeter- an opportunity to rewrite history and do things right. for once. Lifting his head, he left a trail of featherlight kisses running from her forehead to her shoulder before laying his head upon her shoulder.
"Good morning." Orlando whispered, voice slowly creeping into her ear. He wanted to say more, but nothing he said would matter then.
"Thank you." he added suddenly, closing his eyes as he kissed her neck.
As Orlando's body had shifted, and she became aware that he was conscious again, Demeter had closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Though he may have just woken up, she, on the other hand, had been awake for nearly an hour, trying to find the words to say how she felt. Waking up in the man's familiar embrace, with her head nestled into his chest, she hadn't felt anything out of the ordinary. It was just as though she was waking in the arms of yet another man she barely knew, even though, this time, the arms surrounding her were ones she knew almost better than her own.
Since the day Orlando and she had split apart, Demeter had found herself constantly searching for something that could make her feel as he had: loved, protected, and safe. She'd begun by breaking away from the wizarding world entirely and, instead, choosing to pursue a career in muggle advertising, using just a few little spells here and there to charm her way to the top of her corporation. Yet burying herself in a successful career didn't get her any closer to what she longed for, and soon she began dating again, but so alone did she feel that she made sure she was rarely alone for long. or rather, rarely alone for a night.
Eventually, she decided that she ought to just be happy with the moments of happiness she could have, however few and far between they were. But something always nagged at her from the back of her mind, telling her that if she could just find Orlando again, she wouldn't have to live that way because he'd make sure she never felt alone again.
Things didn't work out that way, though. She had woken in his arms, and now he was kissing her softly, whispering "good morning", and being just as perfect as he'd always been, but the feeling she'd longed forever for was no where to be found. It was as though she'd held onto a memory in her head and each time she longed to relive it, had mentally only made it better, until it was built up so much that it had become an exaggeration of reality. She had Orlando back, but after spending a night with him, she realized that he wasn't what she wanted. The past couldn't become the present, and she couldn't pretend that the last two-ish years hadn't happened and that she was just now waking up after that first night. Things had occurred, events had transpired, and everything was different now.
It was kind of funny, Demi supposed, how you can want something for so long, but then, once you finally have it, it doesn't seem that wonderful anymore. How could she explain that to Orlando, though? It didn't make any sense at all. Not that any part of their relationship after that night had, but still.
Mentally sighing, she rolled herself on her side, away from him a bit, but still resting her head on his arm. Flitting her eyes up, she met his gaze- sweet, sincere, enamored; he had told the truth last night: he was completely in love with her. but she wasn't in love with him. Not anymore, at least.
"Bonjour a toi, aussi," she replied, not yet letting him in on the emotions and thoughts plaguing her mind.
Getting that drunken smile upon his face, Orlando's arms reached out and pulled Demeter back towards him, laying her head upon his chest as he laid back into the mound of pillows. Bending his head down, he planted a soft kiss upon her head, combing his fingers through her blond locks. Everything was surreal to him at the moment. It was as though he'd somehow traveled back in time, been given a second chance to do things right, to make things turn out as they ought to. He wasn't going to waste it.
This was what she'd wanted for so long, what she'd dreamed of. Why, then, didn't she feel like it? Mentally sighing, Demeter Lawrance closed her eyes and reached an arm up, wrapping it around Orlando's neck. Maybe, if she pretended that she was still in love with him, she would somehow fall back in love with him. He was everything she had wanted, and now he was here with her. Putting a soft smile upon her face, she mentally sighed again as she lifted her head off his chest just enough to kiss his neck.
Offering a quiet laugh, Orlando grinned, holding Dem against him.
"Je t'aime, ma Demi," he whispered, laying his head upon hers and closing his eyes.
Ugh. This was simply too much. Although Demeter may have been a bit selfish at times, she couldn't let this whole thing continue that much longer. Each moment she waited, Orlando's hopes and dreams would be building up a little bit more, and the pretense would just become harder to break. He loved her, but she couldn't keep letting him believe that she still felt that way about him, as nice as it would have been. After all, even though she wasn't in love with him, he made her feel better than she'd felt in a long time and she didn't want to give that up, but nothing, not even that, was worth playing Orlando.
"Orlando." she said quietly, wriggling out of his grasp and sitting up as she pulled the sheet over herself.
"Stop it."
And it was with those words that the fantasy world Orlando had been living for the past few hours had crumbled. Nothing was as good as it had seemed, and everything, once again, was confusing. for Orlando, at least. Demeter, on the other hand, seemed to have everything already logic-ed out, as if she'd spent an hour already figuring out the mechanics of their relationship. The woman spoke for nearly an hour nonstop, telling him everything had was going through her mind, had been going through her mind and thoughts and feelings that hadn't crossed her mind in years until she had said everything she had to say. As she had spoke, Orlando had merely listened, sitting there in silence with a vacant look upon his face.
Every word that escaped her lips was soft, gentle and full of sincere emotion, and, by the end of her speech, the man saw things in a different light. At least, he seemed to. It was as though Demeter had explained absolutely everything he'd been confused about; she'd filled in the gaps in his thinking, and she'd said what he had needed to hear in regards to everything. The guilt he'd felt in regards to their first night together was gone, and that part of his past at long last had a conclusion. And although he was devastated that she no longer wanted him the way he did her, it was only logical that, eventually, he would move on. They had been each other's first, and that would always hold them together to a certain extent, but things weren't what they had been, and they couldn't try to relive the past and give it an alternate ending.
And so it went. Orlando picked up his things and by that afternoon was back in Maine. The little cottage upon the rocky coastal peak was now nearly revitalized. The roof had been repaired, all four rooms cleaned and straightened, the boxes removed from the attic and sorted through, and that patch of grassy meadow, which hadn't had so much as a foot step upon it in over two years, had been mowed, and no longer stood out from the rest of the small yard.
THE BALLET
Getting that drunken smile upon his face, Orlando's arms reached out and pulled Demeter back towards him, laying her head upon his chest as he laid back into the mound of pillows. Bending his head down, he planted a soft kiss upon her head, combing his fingers through her blond locks. Everything was surreal to him at the moment. It was as though he'd somehow traveled back in time, been given a second chance to do things right, to make things turn out as they ought to. He wasn't going to waste it.
This was what she'd wanted for so long, what she'd dreamed of. Why, then, didn't she feel like it? Mentally sighing, Demeter Lawrance closed her eyes and reached an arm up, wrapping it around Orlando's neck. Maybe, if she pretended that she was still in love with him, she would somehow fall back in love with him. He was everything she had wanted, and now he was here with her. Putting a soft smile upon her face, she mentally sighed again as she lifted her head off his chest just enough to kiss his neck.
Offering a quiet laugh, Orlando grinned, holding Dem against him.
"Je t'aime, ma Demi," he whispered, laying his head upon hers and closing his eyes.
Ugh. This was simply too much. Although Demeter may have been a bit selfish at times, she couldn't let this whole thing continue that much longer. Each moment she waited, Orlando's hopes and dreams would be building up a little bit more, and the pretense would just become harder to break. He loved her, but she couldn't keep letting him believe that she still felt that way about him, as nice as it would have been. After all, even though she wasn't in love with him, he made her feel better than she'd felt in a long time and she didn't want to give that up, but nothing, not even that, was worth playing Orlando.
"Orlando." she said quietly, wriggling out of his grasp and sitting up as she pulled the sheet over herself.
"Stop it."
And it was with those words that the fantasy world Orlando had been living for the past few hours had crumbled. Nothing was as good as it had seemed, and everything, once again, was confusing. for Orlando, at least. Demeter, on the other hand, seemed to have everything already logic-ed out, as if she'd spent an hour already figuring out the mechanics of their relationship. The woman spoke for nearly an hour nonstop, telling him everything had was going through her mind, had been going through her mind and thoughts and feelings that hadn't crossed her mind in years until she had said everything she had to say. As she had spoke, Orlando had merely listened, sitting there in silence with a vacant look upon his face.
Every word that escaped her lips was soft, gentle and full of sincere emotion, and, by the end of her speech, the man saw things in a different light. At least, he seemed to. It was as though Demeter had explained absolutely everything he'd been confused about; she'd filled in the gaps in his thinking, and she'd said what he had needed to hear in regards to everything. The guilt he'd felt in regards to their first night together was gone, and that part of his past at long last had a conclusion. And although he was devastated that she no longer wanted him the way he did her, it was only logical that, eventually, he would move on. They had been each other's first, and that would always hold them together to a certain extent, but things weren't what they had been, and they couldn't try to relive the past and give it an alternate ending.
And so it went. Orlando picked up his things and by that afternoon was back in Maine. The little cottage upon the rocky coastal peak was now nearly revitalized. The roof had been repaired, all four rooms cleaned and straightened, the boxes removed from the attic and sorted through, and that patch of grassy meadow, which hadn't had so much as a foot step upon it in over two years, had been mowed, and no longer stood out from the rest of the small yard.
Darkness encompassed the terrain of the French countryside, turning innocent tree branches into monsters' claws and giving the crisp midnight zephyrs an eerie undercurrent to them. From their place upon a grassy knoll, a pair of brilliant blue eyes gazed over the rolling that seemed to stretch forever, taking in the familiar sight. It had been a little over two years since the man had been there, but St. Valery en Caux still remained exactly as he had remembered it. The town was still small, with buildings congregated around the tiny bay that jutted inland from the sea; the beach was still lined with rocks and bordered by towering rocky bluffs; and the air still held that indescribable smell of adventure and amusement. One might wonder just why Orlando Corvello Lorenz had decided to return to a place he had not seen in so long, but that question can be answered in a single word: love. Then again, depending on one's perspective, that single word response might ought to be "stupidity". After spending nearly a year in a relationship with a beautiful, smart, amazingly enchanting young woman, the man had found himself to have had fallen out of love with her and realized that he was still undoubtedly attracted to one Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance and it was for her- or rather for the prospect of her- that he had traveled halfway around the world.
Realizing exactly where he was and what he was about to do, the man paused a moment, sitting himself atop the hill he stood upon and wondering if he ought to just turn back now. He was tired, and exhaustion didn't exactly breed coherence. What if, instead of rectifying something, he was only making another mistake, but was too weary to realize it? It had, after all, taken him quite a long time to get to where he was, not meaning it had taken him a long time to apparate there (even though it had), but referring to how long he had remained in Maine after the summer cruise, isolated and brooding. Then again, most of that time had been spent dwelling on the topic of Faithe.
He had passed too many hours simply lying upon the cottage's roof wondering about her- where she was, what she was doing, if she was holding up alright. Though he was never sure about the first two, the enchanted star, which never left the man's possession, always answered the third with its reasonably healthy silver flow. Perhaps it could have answered the other two as well, but he dared not try to feel Faithe's emotions; he didn't need or want any more reminders of how badly he had hurt her- how badly he [I]was still hurting[/I] her.
He knew that, without a doubt, she was in love with him, and it hurt to know that, beyond having her heart broken since he was unable to return such a pure, unsullied emotion, she was probably still blaming herself for his mistakes by means of some ludicrous reason her mind had concocted. He had tried, though, to make her understand, and he had said all he could. There wasn't a thing he could do for her when he didn't have the heart to love her the way she wanted him to; his heart belonged to Demi still and until that song had played itself out, it couldn't ever be given to another. Faithe, or whomever he was with, deserved his full and complete soul and being, not just the part that he was free to give. Things were better for everyone this way.
And so, there he was- five weeks, one absurdly long broomstick ride and a reasonably easy locating charm later- sitting atop a hill looking down into the valley where the little town of St. Valery en Caux, France (the very village he had taken Demeter to all that time ago) resided. For a moment he had wondered what the woman would be doing there, but that inquiry faded from him mind quickly as he recalled her French heritage and blew off the coincidence of her being in the exact same place they had visited together. Perhaps she was visiting family, or maybe doing some marine research, or maybe she'd eventually wound up becoming involved with history- that muggle subject she'd always loved- and decided to position herself close to Normandy Beach for that reason.
Walking down the narrow road into town at three in the morning (which was really only 9 o'clock Manhattan time) filled the man with an odd sense of serenity. The sky was clouded over and crisp zephyrs blew through the air, but the eeriness one would expect to find there and the fear that would be expected to be coursing through the man's veins were absent. The only things running through Orlando's mind were memories, intertwined with a thread of hope that everything would work out. Exactly how that would happen and what he was planning on doing when he finally reached Demeter was still a mystery to our young hero, but he knew he had to see her, to talk to her, to hold her, to kiss her. to make her understand that, once more, he'd been a fool, but that, this time, he wanted to fix things.
Arriving into town, the hallowed moonlight, which shone through the overcast sky, reflected in his eyes as they flitted around. Reaching into the pocket of his brown duster, his fingers wrapped themselves around a small wooden box to which a slender silver chain, adorned every three links with a dolphin charm, was affixed. Opening the box, he held it in his right hand while procuring his wand with his left. Pointing it at the box, he whispered a quiet incantation, letting the charmed compass guide him to the owner of the bracelet.
***
Pluck. Pluck. Pluck.
One by one, silver tweezers had plucked off the light brown hairs of Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance's eyebrows, shaping them into perfect crescents. Reaching a hand, whose artificial nails wore a perfect French manicure, up, her slender fingers had wiped away the stray hairs, smoothing down the remaining ones. Dark green eyes had stared back in the mirror for a moment and the crescent-shaped eyebrows had furrowed for a moment before resuming their normal position.
Meticulously, the young woman then outlined her emerald eyes with a coffee- colored pencil. Next, she had caked her face with foundation, rubbing her fingers all over her face in circles, trying desperately to cover the few imperfections her skin had, and wishing that she had paid a little more attention back at Rosencrantz when they covered healing spells. Sighing, she had reached for a small, silver compact, and frosted her face with matching powder. Gazing up in the mirror again, she had smiled, somewhat pleased with the reflection. Almost perfect.
Reluctantly, she continued painting on her face. In about ten minutes, after sweeping rosy powder onto her cheeks, spreading glittery silver eye goop atop her eyelids, applying jet-black mascara to her thick lashes, lining her lips with a deep maroon pencil, and painting cranberry gloss atop them, Demeter had, at last, considered herself finished, and ready for that night's adventure.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
At the quiet rapping, the woman's lips had curled upwards in an excited grin. Jerôme- her date for the evening- had arrived. Parting her golden hair on the left side of her head, she had wrapped the strands into a messy bun and hurried down the stairs, red colored leather shoes clicking softly on the wooden stairs of her small loft apartment. Opening the door, the young woman had beamed. Jerôme was a nice young man whom she'd met on the beach a few days earlier, and, more than that, he was most certainly an attractive young man. Tall, dark and handsome- he fit Demeter's typical choice in men.
All that preparation seemed useless and all the excitement had faded as Demeter's eyes flickered open just then. Sure, it had seemed nice, but look where it had gotten her: wrapped in the arms of yet another random Frenchman as she laid naked in his bed. It wasn't love, but it was a lifestyle- one that she had become quite accustomed to, also. After all, wasn't all the crap she dealt with worth that one moment during each night she could close her yes and imagine it was Orlando's breath warming her neck, Orlando's fingers waltzing gently upon her back sending shivers along her spine and Orlando's lips softy caressing her skin? She certainly thought so.
It wasn't that Demeter longed for the man so desperately that she had to resort to hallucinations, but rather that she longed to feel loved, as Orlando had once made her feel, that caused her to resort to the "date 'em, screw 'em, and ditch 'em" lifestyle. Though what she and Orlando had had was over now, and he had moved on and found someone else, Demeter was still searching. though she was going about it in entirely the wrong fashion.
Sighing quietly to herself as the empty feeling settled into her once more, Demeter lifted the arms off of her body and slid silently off of the bed. Jerôme [I]was[/I] a nice guy, but he had been a little too heavy of a drinker for Demeter's liking. Picking her clothes up off the floor, she hastily- yet quietly- redressed herself in a pair of indigo hue jeans, a deep green tank top with magenta-colored ribbon straps and her tennis shoes, and threw her hair back into a messy bun at the nape of her neck. Exiting the small "downtown" apartment, she began to wander back down towards the beach, hoping to take a quick dip in the icy cold sea to clear her mind (and cleanse her body) before returning to her own place.
Slipping off her shoes and tucking her socks inside them, her feet touched the cold rocks of France's northeast shore. Her arms reached down to lift her shirt over her head, but the sound of approaching footsteps stopped her. Pulling her wand from its place between her belt and her pants (supple enough was the corkscrew shaft that it could easily bend around the curve of her waist), she pointed it at the intruder.
"Qui est-ce?" she called into the darkness, daring the silhouette to reveal its identity.
Eyes lingering upon the woman's lithe figure, it took a moment for the silhouette to reply. Taking a few steps closer, its head tilted inquisitively, taking in every aspect of the woman.
"Un ami, j'espere." Orlando said quietly.
He didn't really know quite how to react. This was the part he hadn't planned, and so everything from here on out would be complete improv.
"Orlando!?! What the hell are you doing here?"
Demeter's voice was harsh and spiteful, but still confused. Orlando had made it transparently clear in Manhattan that he wanted nothing to do with her and that he was with Faithe now. That was fine with her, really, it was. He'd hurt her enough, after all, and if he wasn't going to lust after her, she had no reason to do the same for him. She could do better than Orlando Lorenz; she could find someone who wouldn't freak out about sleeping with her, someone who'd always be there, and someone who'd take care of her forever. It would just take awhile.
Well, that certainly wasn't what he'd expected. It wasn't as though he'd though he would just sweep her into his arms, share a passionate kiss and have everything be alright, but. then again, he [I]had[/I] kind of thought that. [I]'Idiot.'[/I] he mused to himself. He ought to have known things couldn't be that easy.
Swallowing, he stepped forward again. His eyes grew a little more of a slate blue color as they stared into hers.
"Are you still in love with me?"
Drawing in a breath as he came closer to her, Demeter's body recoiled slightly from him, still wary as to what exactly his intentions were and why he'd come here. how he'd come here.
Then, at his questions, her eyebrows furrowed as more confusion set it. What sort of question was that? Was [I]he[/I] still in love with [I]her[/I]? Surely he couldn't be. Not after all this time. Besides, even if he was, didn't he have that Hope girl back in the states? He had had his chance to be with her- two chances, at that- and he'd turned her down both times. She couldn't let him hurt her again.
But, his words echoed in her mind, and she wondered what the answer to his question really was. [I]Did[/I] she love him? Shaking the thought out of her mind, her verdant eyes hardened as she shook her head almost disgustedly at him.
"How the hell am I supposed to answer that?" she retorted indignantly, placing her hands upon her hips.
Although he was slightly taken aback by the harshness of her words, Orlando didn't show it. Demeter had a right to be chary of him, and he hadn't the right to call her on it. He'd screwed up so many times, and too many of those mistakes had ended up hurting her; her anger was only justifiable.
"Truthfully," he replied quietly.
Shaking her head, Demeter merely stared at Orlando for a moment, wondering what was going on in the man's mind. This game was getting old quickly. What was he doing anyways? Trying to win her back somehow through his sincere yet cryptic phrases and questions? If that was his goal, he was certainly on the right track.
"Look, 'lando," she replied with a somewhat frustrated roll of her eyes, "What right do you have to ask me something as ridiculous as that when you don't even know how [I]you[/I] feel about me yourself?"
Demeter's words, at one point, may have been true, but Orlando was past confusion and bewilderment now. He had finally figured everything out and knew for certain that he was in love with Demeter, and only Demeter. She was his one desire, and if traveling halfway around the world didn't prove that to her, then only one thing could.
Closing the distance between the two, he ran his fingers gently down the side of her face, along her neck and ended up with his hand on her bare shoulder.
"I know exactly how I feel about you, Demeter Elisabeth Lawrance," he stated, gazing into her eyes with a look that radiated nothing but truth.
Wrapping a hand around her waist and bringing the other up around the back of her neck, he pressed his lips to hers gently, but with the slightest bit of urgency in their movement, kissing her warmly. Pulling back after a moment, his eyes stared back into hers again.
"I am completely in love with you," he whispered, "And I know it's taken me much too long to realize it, but I am, Demi. What happened that night.
"I let the guilt get to me, and it pushed me away from you. I couldn't stand to see you because I just kept thinking how much I'd hurt you and how sorry you'd be when you finally saw that. And then in Manhattan, just like I said, you found me again, and you tried so hard to make me see, but I didn't. I'm so sorry, Dem, I-"
"Shh."
Reaching up a finger and placing it upon Orlando's lips, Demeter silenced him. If there had ever been words she'd longed to hear, those had been the ones. It was true that she had gotten over Orlando, but hearing him whisper those words brought back that feeling she'd become addicted to- the feeling that she was wanted, desired, but, more than that, loved.
Without so much as a second thought, she wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pressed herself against him kissing him gently as she stood upon her tiptoes and stepped onto the top peak of one of the beach's jagged rocks.
Smiling through the kiss, Orlando arms wrapped around her waist and pressed her against him, lifting her up into the air.
"Everything's alright now," she whispered, looking up into his eyes as she broke her lips off of his.
Holding her in his arms, with the soft sound of water gently lapping the shoreline as they stood upon the beach in the darkness, everything certainly did seem alright. It was as though everything had just magically worked itself out. Opening his eyes, Orlando's whole face seemed to light up as he smiled at the beautiful woman within his arms.
"Yeah, it is," he replied, kissing her again before releasing her.
As his arms loosened from around her waist, Demeter let out a sort of teasing whine and sat carefully upon one of the rocks. Reaching up, she grasped Orlando's hand, roughly (but jokingly) pulling him down to sit next to her. A smile lit her face- one that made it appear as if the past two- ish years of their lives had never transpired. like they had never been apart.
Tilting her head slightly, Demeter's green eyes gazed up into Orlando's blue ones, and in that moment, something passed between the two that had been forgotten for so long. Orlando's hand reached out and made contact with her skin, creating a sort of spark that ran between them. Whatever fear Demeter had had was gone, and whatever guilt and remorse that had been holding Orlando back from doing something like this for so long had mysteriously vanished into thin air.
Slowly, his arm wound itself around her, turning her body into his own and his lips pressed upon hers, causing her to melt into him as he guided her down towards the ground. As her back hit the rocks rather roughly, the woman's eyes jolted open and she let out a shout of pain. Pulling back quickly, Orlando's eyes widened in trepidation.
"What is it?"
"Rocks." she replied half-groaning as she rubbed her back, unable to prevent herself from smirking ever-so-slightly.
"Oh." he replied somewhat vacantly, yet with just a hint of mischievous sincerity in his voice.
Smiling at him, the woman shook her head and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck after grabbing her discarded shoes by the laces with one of her hands.
"Hold on," she whispered, pressing him against her as she shut her eyes tightly.
A moment later, they were lying upon Demeter's bed and the spark that that first touch had ignited soon grew into a warm, blazing fire that didn't die out until dawn (if you get the drift).
***
The shrill call of a bird broke Orlando's peaceful slumber the next morning, causing his eyes to twitch suddenly and his mouth to slump into a grin once more. He yawned, and, blinking his eyes several times in succession, hoped that the dream he had had had been reality. The hope soon became a reality as he gazed upon the body of another beside him, slowly coming into focus. It was the best morning he'd ever awoken to. His arms still lay draped around her side and her head was nuzzled against his chest. Orlando sighed contentedly, finding himself to be in a surreal state of mind. This was what he had been longing for for so long.
Softly, the man leaned over and kissed Demeter upon the cheek. He felt lost in her embrace, unsure as to what lay ahead for them, but knowing all the same that whatever it was would be marvelous as long as they were together. The soft breath of Demi brushed against his face and he smiled cheerily. This is what he'd been missing for the longest of times: a second chance with Demeter- an opportunity to rewrite history and do things right. for once. Lifting his head, he left a trail of featherlight kisses running from her forehead to her shoulder before laying his head upon her shoulder.
"Good morning." Orlando whispered, voice slowly creeping into her ear. He wanted to say more, but nothing he said would matter then.
"Thank you." he added suddenly, closing his eyes as he kissed her neck.
As Orlando's body had shifted, and she became aware that he was conscious again, Demeter had closed her eyes, feigning sleep. Though he may have just woken up, she, on the other hand, had been awake for nearly an hour, trying to find the words to say how she felt. Waking up in the man's familiar embrace, with her head nestled into his chest, she hadn't felt anything out of the ordinary. It was just as though she was waking in the arms of yet another man she barely knew, even though, this time, the arms surrounding her were ones she knew almost better than her own.
Since the day Orlando and she had split apart, Demeter had found herself constantly searching for something that could make her feel as he had: loved, protected, and safe. She'd begun by breaking away from the wizarding world entirely and, instead, choosing to pursue a career in muggle advertising, using just a few little spells here and there to charm her way to the top of her corporation. Yet burying herself in a successful career didn't get her any closer to what she longed for, and soon she began dating again, but so alone did she feel that she made sure she was rarely alone for long. or rather, rarely alone for a night.
Eventually, she decided that she ought to just be happy with the moments of happiness she could have, however few and far between they were. But something always nagged at her from the back of her mind, telling her that if she could just find Orlando again, she wouldn't have to live that way because he'd make sure she never felt alone again.
Things didn't work out that way, though. She had woken in his arms, and now he was kissing her softly, whispering "good morning", and being just as perfect as he'd always been, but the feeling she'd longed forever for was no where to be found. It was as though she'd held onto a memory in her head and each time she longed to relive it, had mentally only made it better, until it was built up so much that it had become an exaggeration of reality. She had Orlando back, but after spending a night with him, she realized that he wasn't what she wanted. The past couldn't become the present, and she couldn't pretend that the last two-ish years hadn't happened and that she was just now waking up after that first night. Things had occurred, events had transpired, and everything was different now.
It was kind of funny, Demi supposed, how you can want something for so long, but then, once you finally have it, it doesn't seem that wonderful anymore. How could she explain that to Orlando, though? It didn't make any sense at all. Not that any part of their relationship after that night had, but still.
Mentally sighing, she rolled herself on her side, away from him a bit, but still resting her head on his arm. Flitting her eyes up, she met his gaze- sweet, sincere, enamored; he had told the truth last night: he was completely in love with her. but she wasn't in love with him. Not anymore, at least.
"Bonjour a toi, aussi," she replied, not yet letting him in on the emotions and thoughts plaguing her mind.
Getting that drunken smile upon his face, Orlando's arms reached out and pulled Demeter back towards him, laying her head upon his chest as he laid back into the mound of pillows. Bending his head down, he planted a soft kiss upon her head, combing his fingers through her blond locks. Everything was surreal to him at the moment. It was as though he'd somehow traveled back in time, been given a second chance to do things right, to make things turn out as they ought to. He wasn't going to waste it.
This was what she'd wanted for so long, what she'd dreamed of. Why, then, didn't she feel like it? Mentally sighing, Demeter Lawrance closed her eyes and reached an arm up, wrapping it around Orlando's neck. Maybe, if she pretended that she was still in love with him, she would somehow fall back in love with him. He was everything she had wanted, and now he was here with her. Putting a soft smile upon her face, she mentally sighed again as she lifted her head off his chest just enough to kiss his neck.
Offering a quiet laugh, Orlando grinned, holding Dem against him.
"Je t'aime, ma Demi," he whispered, laying his head upon hers and closing his eyes.
Ugh. This was simply too much. Although Demeter may have been a bit selfish at times, she couldn't let this whole thing continue that much longer. Each moment she waited, Orlando's hopes and dreams would be building up a little bit more, and the pretense would just become harder to break. He loved her, but she couldn't keep letting him believe that she still felt that way about him, as nice as it would have been. After all, even though she wasn't in love with him, he made her feel better than she'd felt in a long time and she didn't want to give that up, but nothing, not even that, was worth playing Orlando.
"Orlando." she said quietly, wriggling out of his grasp and sitting up as she pulled the sheet over herself.
"Stop it."
And it was with those words that the fantasy world Orlando had been living for the past few hours had crumbled. Nothing was as good as it had seemed, and everything, once again, was confusing. for Orlando, at least. Demeter, on the other hand, seemed to have everything already logic-ed out, as if she'd spent an hour already figuring out the mechanics of their relationship. The woman spoke for nearly an hour nonstop, telling him everything had was going through her mind, had been going through her mind and thoughts and feelings that hadn't crossed her mind in years until she had said everything she had to say. As she had spoke, Orlando had merely listened, sitting there in silence with a vacant look upon his face.
Every word that escaped her lips was soft, gentle and full of sincere emotion, and, by the end of her speech, the man saw things in a different light. At least, he seemed to. It was as though Demeter had explained absolutely everything he'd been confused about; she'd filled in the gaps in his thinking, and she'd said what he had needed to hear in regards to everything. The guilt he'd felt in regards to their first night together was gone, and that part of his past at long last had a conclusion. And although he was devastated that she no longer wanted him the way he did her, it was only logical that, eventually, he would move on. They had been each other's first, and that would always hold them together to a certain extent, but things weren't what they had been, and they couldn't try to relive the past and give it an alternate ending.
And so it went. Orlando picked up his things and by that afternoon was back in Maine. The little cottage upon the rocky coastal peak was now nearly revitalized. The roof had been repaired, all four rooms cleaned and straightened, the boxes removed from the attic and sorted through, and that patch of grassy meadow, which hadn't had so much as a foot step upon it in over two years, had been mowed, and no longer stood out from the rest of the small yard.
THE BALLET
Getting that drunken smile upon his face, Orlando's arms reached out and pulled Demeter back towards him, laying her head upon his chest as he laid back into the mound of pillows. Bending his head down, he planted a soft kiss upon her head, combing his fingers through her blond locks. Everything was surreal to him at the moment. It was as though he'd somehow traveled back in time, been given a second chance to do things right, to make things turn out as they ought to. He wasn't going to waste it.
This was what she'd wanted for so long, what she'd dreamed of. Why, then, didn't she feel like it? Mentally sighing, Demeter Lawrance closed her eyes and reached an arm up, wrapping it around Orlando's neck. Maybe, if she pretended that she was still in love with him, she would somehow fall back in love with him. He was everything she had wanted, and now he was here with her. Putting a soft smile upon her face, she mentally sighed again as she lifted her head off his chest just enough to kiss his neck.
Offering a quiet laugh, Orlando grinned, holding Dem against him.
"Je t'aime, ma Demi," he whispered, laying his head upon hers and closing his eyes.
Ugh. This was simply too much. Although Demeter may have been a bit selfish at times, she couldn't let this whole thing continue that much longer. Each moment she waited, Orlando's hopes and dreams would be building up a little bit more, and the pretense would just become harder to break. He loved her, but she couldn't keep letting him believe that she still felt that way about him, as nice as it would have been. After all, even though she wasn't in love with him, he made her feel better than she'd felt in a long time and she didn't want to give that up, but nothing, not even that, was worth playing Orlando.
"Orlando." she said quietly, wriggling out of his grasp and sitting up as she pulled the sheet over herself.
"Stop it."
And it was with those words that the fantasy world Orlando had been living for the past few hours had crumbled. Nothing was as good as it had seemed, and everything, once again, was confusing. for Orlando, at least. Demeter, on the other hand, seemed to have everything already logic-ed out, as if she'd spent an hour already figuring out the mechanics of their relationship. The woman spoke for nearly an hour nonstop, telling him everything had was going through her mind, had been going through her mind and thoughts and feelings that hadn't crossed her mind in years until she had said everything she had to say. As she had spoke, Orlando had merely listened, sitting there in silence with a vacant look upon his face.
Every word that escaped her lips was soft, gentle and full of sincere emotion, and, by the end of her speech, the man saw things in a different light. At least, he seemed to. It was as though Demeter had explained absolutely everything he'd been confused about; she'd filled in the gaps in his thinking, and she'd said what he had needed to hear in regards to everything. The guilt he'd felt in regards to their first night together was gone, and that part of his past at long last had a conclusion. And although he was devastated that she no longer wanted him the way he did her, it was only logical that, eventually, he would move on. They had been each other's first, and that would always hold them together to a certain extent, but things weren't what they had been, and they couldn't try to relive the past and give it an alternate ending.
And so it went. Orlando picked up his things and by that afternoon was back in Maine. The little cottage upon the rocky coastal peak was now nearly revitalized. The roof had been repaired, all four rooms cleaned and straightened, the boxes removed from the attic and sorted through, and that patch of grassy meadow, which hadn't had so much as a foot step upon it in over two years, had been mowed, and no longer stood out from the rest of the small yard.
