Fleurs in abundance

Parisian mornings were gorgeous. From the balcony, Elijah could watch the sun rise up over his city, bathing every inch in its golden rays. He reached out, his fingers curling around the balcony rail, and leaned over the side, peering down at the street below as the as the Boucherie and the Poissonnerie opened their doors. He smiled, his hair falling from behind his ears and into his eyes, and lifted his gaze to the sky once more to see a pair of birds fly overhead, singing their respective melodies. Elijah chuckled to himself and exhaled, pushing the silvery smoke from his cigarette past his lips as he did so. His eyes raked across the balconies that hung from the buildings opposite and watched the silhouette of a woman behind a set of French doors. Elijah chuckled to himself again and stubbed out his cigarette before padding back through into his bedroom where Josephine was still asleep in amongst the sheets.

With a small smile on his lips, Elijah wandered over to the armoire. He picked up his pill and dipped the nib in the ink before dragging a piece of parchment towards him and scrawling a note onto the page. He knew how much she hated waking up alone so he wasn’t about to leave without at least telling her where he was going. So, before ducking into the bathroom to have a shower, Elijah scribbled out a note just to tell Josie where he’d be. Then, he slipped into the bathroom and had a shower, got dressed and walked back into the bedroom to gather up his things, fold the sheets over Josephine and place a kiss on her forehead before leaving the apartment.

Once the door had closed behind him and he’d turned the key in the lock, Elijah pocketed his keys and began to walk down the hallway. He emerged out on the outer balcony and quickly descended down the steps onto the street level where people were already milling around. Elijah glanced down at his watch and pursed his lips, watching as the smallest of the hands ticked round to each second. He lifted his head again and turned down the little road, weaving between the mothers dragging their children to the market and the artists that had set up to paint passersby in exchange for money. He ducked under a low-hanging washing line and emerged one of the main Parisian streets. He hung a left and picked up pace, heading up towards the square where the market would be.

Elijah jumped up the steps into the square and ran a hand through his hair before looking around the market place, wondering where to go first. He knew they needed food but he couldn’t help but be drawn to the bold colours on the flower stall. So that was where he went first, wandering easily with the people milling around until he appeared before the stall. He pushed some red tulips away and he rapped his knuckles against the makeshift counter to get the attention of the blonde girl. She turned and smiled brightly at him, wishing him a good morning. Elijah chuckled and murmured “Hello” before beginning to take in the flowers, wondering which ones to get. He didn’t like still life so it was rare for him to buy things like that but he needed something to brighten up the studio and he had a feeling that flowers were it. It was a toss between flowers or oranges and Elijah knew what he’d rather see.

Here, at the market place, among the people and the colour and the smells, he was in his element. Here he could forget for a moment. Here he could relax. He knew in the back of his mind that he’d have to go up to the gallery soon but this was his morning. That was something Arnold always allowed Elijah because he knew how much the young man adored and enjoyed mornings. After a spot of breakfast, he’d have to go to the gallery and set about painting someone to placate Arnold. Then he could go to lunch and find himself someone to keep him occupied for the evening. He didn’t want to go to the gallery particularly. It meant failure. He’d never needed help to find someone to paint before. He just needed to think about it.

Perhaps he’d go to the theatre, and sketch the dancers as the preformed. Later, though. Now, he’d find himself some flowers.

It was a beautiful morning, and Selene was happy to be back in her native environment. The sun was shining, and people were milling about the marketplace, chatting pleasantly in French, English, and many other languages. It was a hub of different cultures, and it really was somewhere exciting to be on a glorious summer day like today. Selene wore a simple yellow summer dress with a small bow on the side, and a big floppy hat. She loved hats like these, and it wasn't to often she wore them, but it wasn't like she was about to meet anyone she was familiar with, so it was alright if she looked a little out of the ordinary.

She had a small basket in her hand and some hand cut flowers in them. She also had a loaf of french bread she was picking up for her mother, and she felt oddly carefree. She had to go to the dance studio later, and she was looking forward to seeing her old friends again. It was a bit breezy today, and she already had a hand on her head to keep her hat from blowing off. The floppy kinds were the kinds that usually ended up flying away in this small breeze. Selene got caught by surprise though by a gust of wind, and had to quickly attempt to push her dress down, at the same time her hat flew off her head. "Damn." She whispered, staring after the hat, before taking off, kicking off her flip flops, and picking them up, running across the street, to catch her hat. That ended up being blown right into the side of a flower stall.

A man stood there, looking at flowers as her hat flew up and hit him right in the leg. "Je suis désolé! S'il vous plaît pardonnez-moi." She said quickly in french, the sun bright right where he was at, so that she could not see his face as she bent down to pick up her hat.

[OOC: Google translate: I'm sorry! Please excuse me!"]

Tulips, roses, daffodils - they were all there. Elijah wasn’t sure what to pick so slowly but surely, he began to pick out one of each before going back for another to build up his bouquet. He continued this, picking out one flower after the other, right up until the hat brushed up against his leg. Elijah didn’t realise what it was at first and so he looked down, merely taking a glance, only to actually look for the second time and pay attention to it. It was only then that he heard a voice and lyrical French that could only have been used by a native. Elijah had spoken French for many years and though he was fluent, what he’d learned was barman French - which, in short, meant that the first words he’d learned in the language was how to ask for another drink and a cigarette. His French was a mix of all of his accents. His voice was always strong and husky. This was a woman, with a beautiful youthful tone.

Elijah leaned down just as she did and his hand grazed hers as they both reached for the hat. Elijah smiled and took his hand away, instead reaching for the red tulip in the middle of his bouquet. He held it out to her and rose to his full height, offering his other arm to her so she could help herself up. It was then that Elijah realised he knew her. He knew the girl that stood before him in the yellow sundress, her floppy sunhat in hand. It was Selene. Immediately, memories of the time he spent dancing with her flare in his mind and he found himself smiling at her, as if he knew something she didn’t when that really wasn’t the case.

“Bonjour Selene - comment allez-vous?” He murmured gently. “Avoir une fleur.” He added, showing her the tulip once more before complimenting her. “Tu as chercher tres belle.”

FRENCH
Hello Selene - How are you.
Have a flower.
You look beautiful.

Selene found herself looking into the eyes of what had to be an angel.. because she nearly fell over when he smiled at her. Her own memories came flooding back into the time at School.. when she had been caught dancing by him.. and he had shown her a new way to dance.. which had ended up a lot different then what she had been originally planning, and all the more confusing. Selene.. didn't like people. She had made a very serious point to anyone she knew, that she didn't do things on impulse.. she didn't approve of it, and at the very top of that list, she didn't approve of doting on a person, just because they were pretty.. but her cheeks flushed, and her heart gave her away, and she knew she was in trouble.

Their hands met for an instant, and something jumped through Selene that had never done that before, and her cheeks turned bright pink, almost the same kind of color as the yellow she was wearing. "Oh! Elijah!" Selene said, giving his name a very French twist to it. "I deed not expect to meet anyone I knew 'ere!" She smiled at him and very carefully used his arm to help herself up, her flip flops still clutched in her hand, sweat just visible on her forehead from her short run in the sun. "What are you doing 'ere in Paris?" She asked smiling at the man she had only barely gotten to know. She could tell he was used to French.. but it was a bit odd, and she'd rather speak in English to someone she had met in England... she WAS trying to get to speak better English anyway... being in France didn't help that goal one bit.

And there she was; the blonde whose face had been etched into Elijah’s mind but had not been thought about much since they’d met in that abandoned classroom all those months ago. It was almost funny, seeing her there now; her cheeks flushed pink and her expression betraying her shock in seeing him there. It was almost funny to think that he was there, in Paris, his life having turned itself upside down since he’d kissed her in that classroom, ignorant to what was about to occur. Elijah couldn’t claim to be an entirely different man but something had changed. Paris was proof of this.

A year ago, he would have had different women in that room every night. He would have been turning out paintings of girls in every position, some that shouldn’t have even been humanly possible. Now, he had Josephine. He had a young woman who he’d turned into a model unlike any other. She was his confident and certainly all of the company he needed. Hours were spent sat in front of the fire with a bottle of wine and a basket of bread and cheese. They talked about everything - from literature to her boyfriend back home in Lille.

Elijah couldn’t help but keep the smile off of his face as she turned pink in colour. He chuckled and dropped his arm back down to his side once she was on her feet once more. It was odd seeing Selene again, incredibly odd. He couldn’t say that her presence wasn’t welcoming though. It was fairly wonderful to see a familiar face in Paris. He was so used to the ones he always saw but for his life in Scotland to be muddled with the one here in Paris, it was like a breath of fresh air. He was sure that Arnold would appreciate the irony when Elijah would no doubt speak of Selene later.

“Good morning, Selene,” He greeted her in English, a smile on his lips. He chuckled when she told him that she did not expect to see anyone she knew. Elijah nodded his head in agreement. “Admittedly neither did I but I can’t say I’m complaining.” He shrugged his shoulders at her question and smirked playfully at her. “Me? Paris is my home when I’m working. What are you doing here? Visiting family or something?”

Selene was pretty much in shock for a moment. Of anyone to meet from Hogwarts, here in Paris.. well, she hadn't expected the ONE person who had managed to seduce her in two minutes flat. But Selene had her guard up this time... she wasn't about to let him control her again. He had a way about him.. and he was like a presence you knew was there the moment he entered the room. So how had she not seen him? Even in this crowd of people.. it was a shock that her hat had just happened to fly straight into his foot. She lifted her chin slightly, trying not to look, totally caught off guard. It wasn't exactly everyday someone she knew saw her dressed as she was.

Selene looked at Elijah, as though contemplating on whether to answer him truthfully, before she nodded. "Yes.. my family leeves 'ere... and I am with zem until I start work at ze Ministry in Britain." She said carefully, eying him uncertainly. "I do not think you noticed, but I do 'appen to 'ave a razer strong accent." She said smirking slightly, and glancing across the square. "Eet may 'ave been an indication zat I used to leeve in France." She smirked again, and by the time she looked back at him, her cheeks were no longer pink, and she had regained her composure. "So I guess you are doing painting zen? Many different models?" She asked, eying him again, before sticking her chin out once again. She felt the need to compensate for her clothing by showing him that she was not weak, even if she was dressed like a woman.

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she smiled at him carefully. "I expect to see some new artwork zen.." She said grinning at him. "Or are you slacking off? Taking a break?" She asked, almost afraid to make eye contact with him, but forcing her eyes to at least make contact with just over his shoulder, unable to look him straight in the eyes. She felt so.. awkward, a feeling she rarely felt, and when it did happen.. well she was all out of sorts, and she felt the need to overcompensate, by making it very clear of who she was, and what she thought of herself.. it was hard when she was holding her flip flops in one hand, a huge floppy hat in the other, and was wearing a bright yellow sundress.. but at least she was standing up as straight as she could get, and her chest was puffed out, her chin up, trying to look more threatening then she appeared at the moment.

A rather strong accent meant nothing. Her family could have been from Bordeaux for all Elijah knew. But it seemed as if they were from Paris. That wasn’t so unlikely. Everything that happened in France went through Paris. Paris was the nervous system of the country - which was why it was such a prize through both Muggle wars in the twentieth century. Elijah adored the city for both its complexity and its simplicity. It was the only place in the world where he’d ever do still life - and even then there was an element of moving life to it. He came to Paris to paint the girls Arnold wanted to sell. It was up to Elijah to find an angle, to find a new way to paint breasts, backsides and goodness only knew what else. He was the artist and somehow he had to draw the girls so they’d sell. Each time it was getting easier but one day, the ideas would run out. He had another good few seasons left in him yet. Then perhaps he’d reach posthumous fame like all of the other artists that had become icons to the art world.

“Where’s the château, mademoiselle?” Elijah asked with a smirk, just in case he fancied a house call later. That would be most interesting. “By the river, maybe? You strike me as someone who lives in an affluent area. Perhaps in that direction,” He pointed up vaguely in the direction of central Paris, “instead of in a place like this where Gypsy children run the streets night and day and models look for a way to make a living off of an honest artist. It is the way the world goes ‘round here, baby. You don’t strike me as the type that would survive on these streets, regardless of your talents. I think though, that if an artist were to get his hands on you then he would be a fool to let you go. Clothes are unflattering. Whoever invented them was a fool. We’ve forgotten to appreciate the beauty that lies beneath silly sundresses and holey t-shirts covered in paint.”

“I have a rather strong accent,” Elijah murmured in his usual husky tone. “But I can barely tell my own nationality from my voice now. It is a mix between my native Bulgarian, this French rubbish and English - which is incredibly difficult to learn. Did you find that? My tutor had to teach me it using songs. I was truly terrible. No matter though. It is all in the past. But you want to improve your English before you go to work - is that right? You’re working for the Ministry? It’s amiable, I’m sure, but you’re going to have to lose the accent beautiful otherwise no one will have a clue what you’re saying. I expect you’ll be wonderful for international relations though. You’ve got a pretty little voice and a pretty little script so I don’t think the Ministry have made an error in hiring you, my love. Here, have a tulip.”

Elijah plucked a red tulip from the bouquet and handed it to Selene with a smile.

“There are only so many models to draw, Selene, and they get boring. But yes, there is more work. It’s boring though. I’m not happy with it. It’s monotonous but they seem to like it so it’ll be money in the bank I suppose. I need a muse - and a good one. The wine might numb the pain but you can’t escape the fact that what you’ve got before you is a naked woman who is exactly like the one before that and the one before that, just waiting for the opportunity that the others were denied - to spread her legs like a common whore.” Elijah sniffed discompassionately. “I love this city but the women tire me now. Perhaps I’m getting old, Selene?” Elijah laughed and ran a hand through his hair. “Perhaps I’ve run out of steam. Perhaps I can’t handle the energy it takes. I’m not running on booze and nicotine anymore. I’m running on food and drink like every other mortal on this god forsaken planet. It’s weird. There is no longer that haze of sex and alcohol and fags. Instead I’m awake and semi-alert.”

Elijah shrugged his shoulders and ran a hand through his hair again. “It’s weird, that’s all. I’ve still not gotten used to it. I’ll have a drink in the evening of course - who doesn’t? - but not all day. I don’t think my liver could manage all day like before. I’m not nearly as wild as before. I couldn’t go through three paintings in a day and half a dozen women. The idea of one is daunting enough. I can still do as many paintings but the desire to bed them is gone. They’re all the same, as boring and as vapid as the last. What on earth was I doing or taking that year that made me so blind?”

Elijah looked at Selene and smiled. “Why am I telling you this?” He asked her with a half-grin.

Laughing, Elijah shook his head. “I’ll slack of now. How about I buy you breakfast? Or lunch or brunch or whatever food at this time of day is called? Either way, I’ll buy. You pick the place.”

Elijah asked where she lived, and she listened to where he thought she lived... great.. he was spot on the money, she just liked to come here because it was a bit farther away then all the hustle and bustle of Paris. "Erm.. yes, I do actually." She said blushing again, and getting more embarrassed simply because she was blushing. But he kept talking.. and her blush grew in size as he talked about her 'talents' and how clothes were unnecessary. She was completely unsure of what to say anymore though... he was so charming.. and so friendly.. sure he had an usual preference in what he painted, but really it was beautiful.. he could make a still life look as though it were alive, and that was something very few artists could do now a days.

Selene nodded when he spoke about accents. "Your accent eez very different." She said nodding. "I deed find English hard to learn.. Eet 'as to many rules.. and zey never stick to zem. " She nodded carefully and looked a bit surprised at his mention of losing her accent. "You mean completely? Eez talking in English not enough? I.. I thought eet would be." She sighed slightly and looked at him surprised. He sure was using flattery today.. Calling her pretty and whatnot, and all she could think about was their time in the extra room at Hogwarts.. him stumbling upon her when she was at her weakest.. convincing her to do thing she would normally never done.. and her eyes were tuned to his lips as he spoke. She carefully took the tulip, and smiled, smelling it before tucking it behind her ear carefully.

Selene listened to him speak about his work, and she frowned. "I am sure not all models are ze type of people to... erm... spread zeir legs for you... I theenk zat eez disgusting to be honest. Maybe you need a new muse.. 'ave you ever thought about drawing live action? People dancing... normal people.. maybe ze models are not what you need right now." She nodded at him and shaking her head. "I do not drink at all.. so do not feel weird for only drinking at night... for obviously, I do not drink at all.. Eet eez good to be awake.. for when you are awake.. you get to see what you missed." She said smiling at him and glancing around them, tempted to touch the flower happily at her ear.

"Some people have experiences zat Change them Elijah." she said unable to resist looking up into his eyes and frowning slightly at him. "Zey may not be ze best experiences ever, but zey change us anyway.. and sometimes, eet may not feel ze change was for the better.. but often times.. eet eez." She looked away again and then smirked when he asked why he was telling her this. "Because I am someone you don't see often.. and you had a moment with.. eet eez possible zat you needed to get eet off your chest, and you do not need to fear seeing me again after zis... so you felt eet was an okay zing to talk about." she nodded slightly and felt herself smirking again.

Then he asked her to go eat, and she smiled slightly. "Sure.. I know of a nice cafe near by." She said, and using the flower stand's table, she put her shoes back on, and firmly set her hat back on her head. "Zis way." She nodded and set off, not really caring if he followed or not.

The studio had fallen out of Elijah’s possession a few months back, before he’d moved in with Chase. When he’d returned to Paris, the studio was returned to him and he was astonished to find that all of his things were still there, just as he’d left them. Thinking about home made Elijah wonder whether Josephine got his note or not. A quick glance down at his watch told Elijah that she’d probably be up by now, if not getting ready to go out. She’d been off down the betting shop with Philippe and Angela before noon no doubt and Elijah wasn’t entirely sure whether she’d be back or not. She’d mentioned something the night before about going to visit a friend in Normandy but Elijah hadn’t been paying special attention at the time. If he remembered correctly, he was making his way through a bottle of wine and a painting. So Merlin only knew where she was headed for the day.

“Very pretty,” Elijah commented with a slight nod.

Accents were quite strange. They carried with every language spoken but as language changed the person speaking it, those accents began to fade. Personally, Elijah found the French accent rather beautiful. He would have hated for Selene to lose it. It was inevitable in some respects though, regardless of what he wanted for her. Unless of course there was some sort of spell that could be used to make those who listened to her hear an English accent. Elijah didn’t know of one that would do that but he was sure that a little bit of research would find a spell - or one they could tweak - to do the job. An accent as beautiful as hers didn’t need to be lost - especially for something as inane as a job at the Ministry.

“So why the Ministry?” Elijah asked. “And the British one at that? Why not the French one?”

Elijah reached into his back pocket and took a cigarette from the packet there. He placed it between his teeth and took his lighter from his jacket pocket. Elijah lit the cigarette and pocked the lighter once more before taking the cigarette from between his lips. He blew the smoke to the side and smiled at her before chuckling lightly at her disgust. She’d clearly not experienced the desperation the models had. Some of them still had pride and morals but most of the ones Elijah worked with were looking for money and were going to do anything they could to get at it. An artist’s model still wasn’t the most highly regarded profession in the world. It was not surprising sometimes, the lengths the girls went to.

“People do strange things when they’re desperate,” Elijah told Selene gently. “And besides, they’re just models. They’re not important in the grand scheme of things. It isn’t as if any of those girls could be my muse. This is not necessarily my opinion, apart from the muse part, but it is the favoured opinion. I need to find a muse. I haven’t had one in a long time. I must just be getting bored of drawing breasts. After you’ve seen a million of them, they start to get boring. How ironic that is.” Elijah shook his head and took another drag before turning the cigarette over and staring into the smouldering end. He tapped the cigarette, sending the ash away, and looked at Selene again. “You don’t drink at all? What a little Virgin Mary you are. Smoke? Narcotics of any kind? Let me guess, sex addict, yeah? No? Wow. Your parents must be dead proud of you, love.”

Elijah met Selene’s gaze hesitantly and bit his lip. He shook his head, not believing her words, and murmured, “I’ve survived so far. I think if things ever level out then I’ll be able to survive anything.” He smiled grimly and fished a handful of coins out of his pocket. He paid for the flowers and wandered down the steps behind Selene.

“So what is this cafe called, love?” He called out from behind her.

He asked her why she wanted to go to the British Ministry, and she had to think about that for a moment. "Ze French one... zey... zey are not quite as powerful as ze British Ministry is.. I mean.." Selene had to think for a moment before shrugging. "Zey work 'arder, and 'ave more goals for what I am aiming for." She said nodding, and shrugging slightly. "I am starting off low... I am only a secretary.." She sighed and then looked away from Elijah as he pulled out a cigarette. She frowned at the smoke, and made a face. "I do not see 'ow you would like zat... eet eez just... nasty." She said shaking her head, and looking away from him again, turning her face away from the smoke that escaped the end of the little cancer stick.

Selene suddenly turned to Elijah, and frowned. "Everyone eez worth something.. even eef zey do not appear to be ze best person in ze world.. everyone is worth something to someone.. even eef zat someone eez just themselves. Zey may not be.. important, but... not everyone eez! Just because zeir idea of getting what zey need in life eez to.. show off zeir body... zey are important.." She looked almost offended with what he had said and shook her head. "You of course, know zat you are not ze... grand scheme of things.." She said quoting him with a smirk. "Find a muse zen..." He started to comment on her no drinking habits, and she shook her head to each thing he said. "I do not drink.. I do not smoke.. I have not had sex at all... and my parents are not very proud of me.. no.. zey would rather I find a nice husband... settle down, but I do not wish zat for myself.. I want to work, I want to dance.. zey would rather me be like your unimportant models, but with a boyfriend, zen see me working in the British Ministry, so no.. my parents are not proud of me." She shook her head and looked away from Elijah.

"Sometimes leveling out eezn't enough Elijah... sometimes you 'ave to work at making yourself happy... surviving eezn't often enough.. just ask one of your unimportant models." She said shaking her head, and walking down the street, keeping a hand on her hat, so that it didn't fly off again. "You will see." She said smirking at him as he followed behind her, the soft breeze blowing her hair around slightly, as she turned to look at him and smile, the sun glinting off of her hair, and making her appear to almost glow, before she turned away, and walked into a shadow, so that she was cast into a shadow that made her look almost purple.