The door was thrown open, bags thrown into the open space before her, and Elsie Norton came spinning into her apartment, shopping bags looped around her fingers, horrible movie cliché look complete. Claire Bishop came bustling behind her, pulling the other two suitcases, having been unloaded with the luggage before she could even so much as reach for her wand. She blew her hair out of her face and leaned one of the bags against the open door.
“Elsie-“
“He bought me this,” Elsie said, turning back to look at Claire, throwing her arms out to present her outfit… once again. “Hottest fashion in Paris right now, It’s in vogue-“
“Oh, come on Elsie, you actually know fashion terms, you’re making yourself sound-“
“He swore he’d visit. You two would get along so well. Ugh, I’m drained.” She flopped onto the couch – though she made sure to carefully rearrange so she looked like a picture. The truly irritating thing was that she actually did. Goof as Elsie was, she always had an aura of perfection to her. Claire rolled her eyes, but there was a ghost of a smile on her lips as she rolled the suitcase into the suite, closing the door behind her.
Elsie sat up suddenly, eyes on Claire. “You have to meet him. It just- it keeps hitting me that you guys would get along so well.”
“What was his name again?” Claire said exasperatedly, shrugging off her coat.
“Leander,” Elsie sighed, resting her chin on the arm of the couch, gazing upwards. “He’s amazing, Claire. He started with nothing, nothing. His first film won him all these independent awards, and now he finances gallery openings- and his photography.”
Claire closed the hallway closet. “He really did a number on you.”
Elsie hummed pleasantly. “And I did a few numbers to-“
Claire shook her head, “No.” She shook her head again. “Move on.”
Elsie hopped to her feet and followed Claire as the blonde banished Elsie’s belongings to their respective places, before heading into the kitchen to pour them both a glass of white wine. “It wasn’t Leander, per se, Claire… It… It was Paris and the beach house… and Leander.” She grinned. Claire took out a bottle of wine, and began pulling the wine glasses off of the rack. “I feel different. I feel like I was carrying this… this horrible weight before. And now I feel so much freer, y’know? I feel like making changes. I feel like only good things could happen to me, y’know?”
Claire slid the glass over. “What are you going to do first?”
Elsie crinkled her nose. “I don’t know.” She took a drink and smiled. “I’m going to quit my job.”
Claire arched her eyebrow. “Oh? And do what instead?”
Elsie smiled widely. “No idea.”
That was the conversation that had brought her to the Leaky Cauldron later that night. Of course, she was still decked out in her Parisian blues, too fond of the outfit to not immediately where it in public. She had already called out to Arryn to make her something fruity and fun, and while he slaved over that, she perused the billboard, chin caught between two tapered fingers. There had to be something here, something perfect for a woman ready to take her life into her hands. Anything really.
De-gnomer wanted.
Not that, though.