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Author Topic:  i'm wishing [william]  (Read 302 times)

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Bérénice Bonaccord [ Professor ]
24 Posts  •  33  •  Heterosexual  •  played by laura
i'm wishing [william]
« on: July 04, 2018, 04:39:11 AM »
 
april 2002

Two more days.

Two more days before Bérénice would be returning to Beauxbatons. It had been a decade and a half since she’d last walked the halls of the palace as a student. That felt so long ago, but she remembered so much of it so clearly. It seemed that moving to Chatoeil, though initially intended as a respite from working, might have been fate – if one believed in such things. Bérénice was beginning to think she did.

She had walked from her cottage to the town centre earlier this morning, holing up in the town library amongst stacks of books on hypnosis and teaching methods, wanting to be fully prepared for her stint as substitute professor. It wasn’t a career change – so she told herself – it was just, something different, for now. Change was good. She had to keep reminding herself. Even if it wasn’t planned change.

The brunette was dressed in a cream sweater with a deep v-neckline, blush pink pencil skirt, and matching blush heels. Her beige coat was folded over the back of the chair next to her, and her thick, dark hair was knotted up in a chic bun, a couple of strands left free to frame her face. Her face, which was currently contorted into a soft frown of concentration as she read.

Bérénice knew her skill almost like the back of her hand, but she was convinced that that may be her downfall as a tutor. Knowing something too well undoubtedly put you in a position where you left out details that came as second nature to you, but were unknown to the uninitiated. Her bookshelves at home had several tombs dedicated to her craft, she had packed those up and left the boxes with her parents in her childhood bedroom when she’d relocated to the seaside town. Bérénice didn’t want to make the trip back to Dahliental now, because they would ask what she was doing, squandering her talent as a measly teacher when she could be at the Hospital, really helping people (and earning good money) – or if she was that desperate for a change, in the Ministere, where her name would get her a job in no time. Both reputable, well-paying positions.

So she’d come to the Chatoeil library. The hypnotist had been reading the same line over and over for several minutes before she realised it was no longer sinking in. She needed a break. Abruptly, Bérénice stood, pushing her chair back along the wooden floor and into the poor soul that had decided to walk behind her at that precise moment. “Oh, pardon!” She spun around, one hand flying up to cover her mouth and the other reaching out gingerly to touch on the man’s upper arm. “Je suis tellement désolé, es-tu blessé?”


@William Dasher
« Last Edit: September 03, 2018, 09:04:29 PM by Laura »

William Dasher [ Writer ]
2092 Posts  •  Heterosexual
Re: i'm wishing [william]
« Reply #1 on: July 04, 2018, 10:37:13 PM »
This place was fantastic.

William had always liked books. Some people had favourite smells; coffee, freshly cut grass or baked bread but his? His were the pages of books. He'd stumbled on this library by accident. In fact, this entire place had been a case of serendipity. He'd always found the French sun a bit too hot for his very English skin and so, he'd been here for hours. Or what seemed like it.

He was only here for the day, really. Will had come straight from Nice and he was headed to the Amalfi Coast the following day. He didn't have a set date to return to London. It should have been some time this week but he'd caught sight of a newspaper while he was having an overpriced coffee in Paris. The sting he felt hurt worse than the burning hot liquid that came out of his nose at the shock of seeing his recently ex-girlfriend sat cosily next to a hulking great Quidditch player. In effect, it had scuppered his plans completely.

Was he hiding? Yes. Absolutely. Will was over the initial shock and hurt but he just felt embarrassed now. Honey had been to his office and met his coworkers. He knew they knew about the break up but he wouldn't be able to stand the well-meaning sympathy and the cuddles and the endless cups of tea that he just wanted to drown himself in.

His long legs walked up and down the rows of books, his big dark eyes not really focusing on anything in particular. Dressed in well cut jeans and a pale blue shirt, there was a pocket-sized guide to Positano sticking out of the breast pocket. Will's fingers gently skimmed over the various spines that were there, his touch soft and respectful. He was having a perfectly nice time until a sharp searing pain smacked him in the shin and sent him doubling over in pain.

"Motherfu--" Will managed to stop the curse word from spilling out as he let out a grunt of pain as the throbbing sensation felt like a siren inside of his body. It was just the shock but it still made his eyes water and the sheer force of the blow sent his guidebook and his glasses flying.

Someone was asking him a familiar phrase in an unfamiliar voice and Will forced himself to swallow the embarrassment. As soon as he looked up, his anger dissipated as he looked at a pretty woman. She looked very put together and the sunlight streaming through the windows made her look like she was wearing a halo. Either that or the strength of her chair attack had knocked the wind right out of his sails.

Will squinted at her, completely at a loss. "Non, je suis…fine?" He replied, his eyes wide as the pain was smarting as it ran up and down his shin bone. He knew French. He was fluent but for the life of him, he couldn't string a sentence together. The only phrase bumping around his head was merde, il pleut and it definitely was not. Her hand was warm on his arm and she looked so utterly distraught, he was about to apologise for being in her way.

"Je vais bien," he managed to tell her as he gave her a thumbs up. William took a half step backwards that looked more like a limp. He  had a French pen pal growing up. His bloody grandma was French but all he could think about telling her was that he could count to ten. He offered her a smile. To support her weight, he gently placed a hand on the elbow of the arm that was touching him tenderly. "I'm okay," he finally managed to tell her as he looked around for his glasses and his guidebook. "I'm really sorry," he told her as he looked her over to make sure she was okay. "Je suis un troll," he told her. "Big feet," he joked with an easy smile as  he gestured to his leather shoes. The ground needed to open up and swallow him whole now.

Bérénice Bonaccord [ Professor ]
24 Posts  •  33  •  Heterosexual  •  played by laura
Re: i'm wishing [william]
« Reply #2 on: July 08, 2018, 04:22:46 AM »
Bérénice’s eyes widened at the man’s short-lived (but rather colourful) outburst. It was immediately apparent that his first language must not be French, but in fact English. Their eyes met, and there was a moment of quiet as each seemingly acquainted themselves with the other. She realised how tall he was as he straightened to his full height; had she not been wearing heels the top of her head would barely reach his shoulders. He was a handsome man, with deep eyes and pleasant features. Bérénice blinked – she had moved to Chatoeil to get away from handsome men for a while, not to fall for the first one around her age that she found, or kicked a chair at. Goodness, she was newly-single, but not desperate.

Her little hunch about his mother tongue was confirmed as he spoke directly to her this time, his French pronunciation wasn’t bad but he obviously lacked a full vocabulary. “I am so sorry,” she said again, this time in heavily-accented English. She hoped he was telling the truth. The healer in her wanted to offer to check it for him, but the rational part of her mind reminded her that it had only been a sharp smack to the shin -- unless he was cursed with exceptionally brittle bones he would be quite fine. He didn't look weak, perhaps just a little sad -- but that may well have been her fault for making his eyes water.

“Oh, bonne.” She smiled, obviously relieved and a little amused at his thumbs-up gesture. Bérénice’s cheeks flushed pink as the man mirrored her and took her arm gently. “You are sure?” Her hand fell away as his did, “Non, it was my fault.” He told him, “I should have looked,” she turned in a mild fluster to glance towards the table and then back to him, via the offending chair. "I did not think there was anyone else in this... uhh," she paused over the word as she searched for it, her English a little rusty from not having used it in several months, "section."

Bérénice let out a soft, tinkling laugh as he likened himself to a troll. “I do not think so,” she smiled demurely. If anyone knew about trolls it was her family. Would they ever live that down? She hoped so. Nice turned to pick up his things, bending at the knee to crouch down and scoop up his book as he simultaneously reached for his glasses. As she stood to hand the small tomb back to him, Bérénice couldn’t help but curiously read the cover. “Italia?” She flicked her eyes up to his, “Are you on holiday?” As soon as she’d asked she looked mildly horrified with herself, “Pardon, it is none of my business.” Her cheeks burned lightly once again as she held the book out for him to take.

William Dasher [ Writer ]
2092 Posts  •  Heterosexual
Re: i'm wishing [william]
« Reply #3 on: July 12, 2018, 04:29:09 PM »
Oh good, she spoke English. His face softened as he smiled. He realised now that he could apologise properly, whilst still being mystified that he'd managed to forget an entire language. Oh sure, his head was full of all sorts of things but not full enough that words just…fell out of it. The sharp pain was now more of a dull ache as he stood, careful to shift his weight to the opposite leg. It really wasn't that bad and the overwhelming urge to placate her was strong.

"It's not normally busy?" Will asked, intrigued. If he had somewhere like this on his doorstep, he doubted he'd ever leave. Turning his head, he looked around. It was very much unlike a library. There were a lot of windows which meant lots of light. The place didn't smell damp or musty. The books seemed well cared for. Will couldn't imagine anyone had drawn a crudely shaped willy in any of the pages. What a revelation.

He smiled at her again. "Ah, well, you haven't seen my feet," he joked again. As she ducked down, he was mildly alarmed but extended his hands for his belongings. "Ah, merci," he managed to tell her as he slid his glasses back onto his face.

His smile didn't leave his face but he did flush slightly. "Sort of," he told the woman as honestly as he could manage. A holiday was exactly what he needed right now. "I'm trying to recapture my youth," he paused. "Raison d'être?" He asked lightly. "Or something along those lines. I haven't had time off in a long while and I've suddenly found myself with a lot of free time," he mused. Not that Honey ever took up much of it and it was never a chore. As scrumptiously as he could, his long fingers flicked the newspaper off the table and onto a seat, hidden out of view. He didn't want to be reminded.

"Do you have any recommendations?" Will asked, gesturing to the book before holding it out for her to take and flick through. Unable to help himself, he chuckled. She seemed sweet and even possibly more awkward than he was. "There's nothing to apologise for," he told her in earnest. It made sense with his accent and his lack of spatial awareness that he wasn't from these shores.

"I'm Will," he announced as he held out a tanned hand for a greeting. Though he didn't hate his full name, William added at least ten years onto him and the only person who called him that was his grandmother. Now would be the opportune moment to start flirting. There was a lot he could compliment her on. He could say that her accent was as smooth as melted chocolate, her eyes like a dappled stream. But no. Despite being on holiday, he still couldn't change his personality.

"Could I buy you a coffee?" He asked her swiftly before he chickened out. "Café?" He squinted. "Or tea, juice, wine, whatever you like." Internally, he was screaming. Who the Hell asked a pretty woman out for juice? He wanted to punch himself in the face.
« Last Edit: July 12, 2018, 04:29:22 PM by Sioban »

Bérénice Bonaccord [ Professor ]
24 Posts  •  33  •  Heterosexual  •  played by laura
Re: i'm wishing [william]
« Reply #4 on: August 04, 2018, 07:38:07 AM »
Bérénice looked at the man, wondering what he meant at first before she clicked. “Oh. No, not really. I suppose the students try to avoid libraries when they visit the town.” She smiled, herself having never had that inclination. In her school years Bérénice had been a bona fide nerd; she would come to Chatoeil on the weekends, borrow a book and sit outside Rebert’s with a chocolat chaud while her peers would go to the beach or get an ice cream, visit the sweet and joke shops, or explore the gardens and museums. She watched him as he examined their surroundings, finding within her an urge to keep talking to him. “Sometimes busier in the winter, I think.” 

The brunette laughed softly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Well, I shall take your word for it then.”

"You are welcome." Her lips curved into a small smile. Her head tilted a minuscule amount to the side as she considered him, her hands folded politely in front of her. The poor dear sounded as though he was at a similar point of life as she was – though whether it was for the same reasons, she was unsure, and she had no desire to find out. Best to leave the past where it belonged – in the past. “I see,” the Frenchwoman replied diplomatically, “Well, if you haven’t been before it is a beautiful place.” She offered him a warm smile, “You must try the L'Albertissimo at the port. And see the church, it really is breathtaking.”

“Will.” She repeated, a trick to remember names that hadn't failed her thus far – important in her profession. Well, former profession, for now. “Bérénice.” she took his hand gently and smiled, noting the warmth and how soft they were.

Bérénice's warm, dark eyes popped pleasantly at Will's offer, followed by a twitch of her lips – trying not to show she'd picked up on his apparent discomfort. Wanting to save him from any sort of embarrassment, and in all honesty rather flattered, she answered quickly: “That would be lovely.” The brunette turned to push her chair back in under the table and picked up her coat, folding it over her arm. “There is a café near the harbour that does wonderful coffee, and tea. And juice.” Bérénice offered him the tiniest smirk. “But it is very pink – I hope that won’t put you off.” She beamed, heading for the exit.

Down the stairs and out on the street, her heels clacked against the cobblestones as they walked. “So, Will, what do you do with your time? When you have less of it?” She smiled.

William Dasher [ Writer ]
2092 Posts  •  Heterosexual
Re: i'm wishing [william]
« Reply #5 on: August 10, 2018, 06:04:23 PM »
Will boggled. Kids today! Had he had regular access to a library growing up, he'd never have left it. In a way, he was glad it was quiet. Had it been  busy, he might not have met someone new. As she said he'd take his word for it, William gave a self-deprecating laugh and shook his head. "Good idea," he joked weakly. He didn't want to think about that now. He didn't want to think of it at all, really. The prospect of heading home made him feel a bit sick but even he knew that he couldn't run from his problems forever. How frustrating.

"The port," Will replied as he fished a pen out of his pocket. He flipped to the inside cover of his guidebook and wrote down her suggestion, partly to prove that he was serious but mostly because he knew he'd end up forgetting it. Funny. He loved harbours and the sea. It probably stemmed from growing up in a landlocked county and dreaming of what he didn't have access to. "I'll do that," he said brightly. He liked churches. While he wasn't sure he believed in the idea of a higher being, he did usually light candles, just in case. After all, a little bit of extra security didn't hurt anybody.

"Berry-neece," he replied, his pronunciation a little off as he took her hand and squeezed it firmly. He very rarely introduced himself as William any more, almost as though the extra two syllables were ruining his street cred.

"Wait, really?"

The word were out before he could stop them and he was slow to wipe the look of surprise off his face. "Great," Will said hastily in case she changed her mind. With a smile, he stepped back and let her pass before laughing and shaking her head. She had a naughty sense of humour. Usually intimidated, he found himself instantly relaxing into her aura. Cute, he added mentally. "That sounds good," he was quick to add with a nod. He didn't know the area very well but a quaint café sounded very French and very much in his interest.

"It's actually my favourite colour," Will said breezily with a smile as he fell into step beside her on the staircase. Of course he was kidding but he was keen to show that he didn't have to take himself too seriously, either. He hadn't had a lot of exposure to pink in his life. His sister was very outdoorsy and she wasn't very pinky, either.

"I own a publishing house in London," he answered Bérénice's question briskly. "Not a huge one," he added hastily, trying to stay humble. "Only recently, though. Before that, I was just a lackey," he smiled, forgetting about possible translation issues. "My grandfather finally decided to take the retirement he should have taken thirty years go," he told her warmly. It was more like semi-retirement because booting Arthur Dasher out of his own company seemed like a fate worse than death.

She asked about his free time and he sighed softly as he looked up at the sky but he couldn't help but smile. She was so easy to talk to and he didn't have time to feel awkward. "I stupidly said I'd make my cousin's wedding cake," he said, his handsome face contorting into a look of feigned horror. "I love a good wedding but honestly," he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "If she made a decision and stuck it to, she'd stop from sending me into an early grave. How about you?" Will asked Bérénice smoothly.

"Christ almighty," he blurted out and he pulled up to a stop in front of a candyfloss mountain. He squinted. "You weren't kidding," he mused gently. Everything - literally everything - was bright pink. Fresh flowers and mismatched cutlery was screaming at him. Clearing his throat, he held open the door for her. "Shall we?" Suddenly, he wanted a milkshake. 

Bérénice Bonaccord [ Professor ]
24 Posts  •  33  •  Heterosexual  •  played by laura
Re: i'm wishing [william]
« Reply #6 on: August 31, 2018, 06:08:41 AM »
“The port.” She repeated with a solemn nod, inquisitively leaning over a little to watch him scribble away with a moldu pen. How fascinating. She really should try to adopt more of their practices – a quill and ink was terribly unsuited for travel, really. “You really should.” She smiled warmly.

Bérénice’s cheeks flushed as she tried not to laugh at his not-too-far-off attempt at her name. Well, it was close enough, really. “Yes. Nice, if it is easier.” The brunette offered her nickname politely. The Healer had once been averse to shortening her name, but only a week into her secondment in London she’d become accustomed to being ‘Nice’ more often than not.

“I did have an inkling.” She smirked. His nervousness appeared to be having the opposite effect on her; where she shrunk beside strong men, Bérénice seemed to flourish against the more timid of the species. Was that because she knew, if she really wanted to, she could bend them to her will? Did she do it without meaning to, even? Perhaps. Bérénice just considered herself lucky, but it said something that she often got her way – not always, but often. The brunette flicked her gaze upwards for a moment before meeting Will’s warm brown eyes once more. “You know, I haven’t had a favourite colour for so long I don’t remember what it ever was. Maybe it should be pink too.”

Bérénice’s eyes widened in pleasant surprise, “Really?” She could already hear her mother’s voice in her head, telling her how respectable that sounded. Merlin, was she really thirty-three or thirteen? “A… lackey?” She repeated, tilting her head slightly in confusion. Was it his accent or was it some foreign slang? Some publishing-specific job title that she was unfamiliar with, maybe? “Oh, so it is a family business?” She asked politely, both buoyed and dismayed in equal measure by this revelation. That made him even more acceptable in the eyes of her family, and, really, in her own – she had done just that, after all. Followed in the footsteps of so many Bonaccord’s before her. Yet, did that mean he hadn’t really worked for it? Bérénice found it hard to imagine simply being given a job. Many of her peers had assumed she had done just so, but one couldn’t simply just be a Healer. They had to study and train. And she had. Just like everyone else.

“You bake?” The Hypnotist couldn’t hide her amusement, even with a demure hand covering her smile. Perhaps he hadn’t really been joking about liking the colour pink. It would be just her luck to happen upon an attractive man for him to be gay. Bérénice laughed lightly, “A bridezilla? Is that the term?”

Just as he returned her query Will was seemingly affronted by the lurid pink shop front. “Indeed I was not.” She grinned, “I never lie.” That was mostly true. She waited as Will moved to open the door, then stepped inside and waved timidly at the owner with a friendly smile – a man named Felix whom, now she thought about it, might be more up Will’s alley – and removed her coat once more. Bérénice  had been here several times since moving to Chatoeil. At first she’d been somewhat off-put by the overly romantic setting and hadn’t wanted to venture in alone, but had finally given in upon seeing some of the delicious looking food and drinks. She wouldn’t say she was friends with the owner, but he had been one of the first people in Chatoeil she had gotten on first name basis with (again, admittedly not hard to do).

Bérénice moved towards a booth near the windows and took a seat, picking out two menus and sliding one across the table to Will. “I hope you have a sweet tooth.” She flashed him a grin before casting her gaze down to see what she might try today. It was a personal goal of hers to slowly work her way through the whole menu.

William Dasher [ Writer ]
2092 Posts  •  Heterosexual
Re: i'm wishing [william]
« Reply #7 on: October 12, 2018, 02:36:58 PM »
"Nice" was easier but it didn't suit her, he didn't think. She had such a lovely name and it really wasn't her fault that his clumsy tongue ruined it. No, he'd make an effort. She'd introduced herself like that and that was how she liked to be mentioned, much the same way he's said his name was Will, not William. His full name aged him somewhat and made him out to be older than he thought he was.

The comment about her favourite colour struck him as sad. Either she didn't have time to dwell on those sorts of things or she didn't care; he didn't know which was worse. She was wearing a creamy pink coloured skirt anyway and he found himself smiling. "Something in common already," Will joked, realising a second too late that his words might sound a little…presumptive?

Her confusion was endearing and it tickled him but rather than be rude, he offered her a smile. "Kind of like a servant," Will added. "Not Cinderella style, more like an understudy. A general dogsbody." He sounded very British all of a sudden as he threw a lot of new words and phrases at her without realising. It was actually kind of cute when things got lost in translation, especially since all of the French he knew had seemingly fallen out of his head. The phrase "filing gopher" might have made her head pop.

"Sort of," Will answered Bérénice with a laboured sigh and a frown. "My grandfather started it, my dad ran it for a little bit before he decided it wasn't really for him. But I love books. I always have," he scratched the back of his neck absently. "I started working there when I was sixteen in the summer between terms. I started from the bottom but I didn't really mind," he added casually. "I sat in the corner, listening, and it's the best thing I could have done. People don't expect a lot from teenagers so I was sort of overlooked." Not by his family but by the prospective authors. He'd been awarded a peek into their work ethic and personality and he picked up on little things that could spell disaster or success for the business.

He offered Nice a distracted smile. "The employees are like family, too," he added as they walked towards the bistro. "They've been there forever and they've known my brother, sister and I since we were in nappies and I know what you're thinking," he added quickly with a wry smile. "Working with family is a disaster waiting to happen." They stepped inside and into the warmth. "But actually, we'd give everything to protect one another and the publishing business is small and flooded. It can be oddly cutthroat at times. I need an honest opinion and if you ever met my grandfather, you'd realise he's not one to mince his words."

"Only when I'm stressed," he answered Nice's question with another smile. "Which, ironically, makes me more stressed." Will did like to bake, it was something his grandmother had taught him from a young age. He liked to cook, too. He thought it was important to be able to cook a few things well to stay alive and maybe attract a romantic interest but that hadn't gone so well.

When she said bridezilla, Will's face lit up and he let out a genuinely deep and hearty laugh. "Yes!" He replied enthusiastically, his eyes wide as he wondered how on Earth that word had made it into the French language. "It's her day, after all," he added soothingly as though not to paint Rosie in a poor light. "It's not her fault and I think all brides like to have some sort of control over the proceedings. I've been a groomsman long enough to realise that whatever the bride wants, the bride gets." No questions asked.


"I'll bet," Will joked breezily as he looked around. Admittedly, it wasn't his style but it was very pretty. After the shock had worn off, he followed the direction of Nice's wave and he offered the man a courteous nod of acknowledgement and looked away swiftly. "Absolutely," Will exclaimed excitedly as he pulled the menu towards him eagerly. His attention was pulled in a hundred different ways as the choice was large. Did he want a cake or a tart? A muffin or a pastry? As he mulled things over, Felix trotted towards them, a fat little pug waddling behind him in tow.

He greeted Bérénice warmly as he squeezed one of her shoulders affectionately and Will wasn't stupid; he wanted the gossip. The shorter man was eyeing him keenly, his pale pink pad of paper open and quill poised for an order. "Hi," Will said with a smile. "The pistachio and rose tart, please. Oh and I'd love a banana and lemon smoothie too, thanks." That was Will all over. He liked as many flavours as he could shove into his face.

Felix took the orders carefully, shooting Bérénice knowing glances which William politely ignored. Behind them, the door of the bistro opened and the bell tinkled. Felix was still hovering close, looking as though he might explode when the customer tried to get his attention. "Sei still!" the man hissed, flapping his hand behind him impatiently to the shocked customer. Will blinked. His German was non existent but he caught the drift.

"A friend of yours?" He asked Nice politely with an amused smile. There was a whirring of a blender and Will could feel a set of eyes burning into the back of his head. He assumed Felix was just making sure she was okay. After all, she might be a regular and to see her enter the café with a man with a strange accent must be concerning. But goodness, imagine if she'd sauntered in here with someone she actually fancied. No one expected the Spanish Inquisition, after all.

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