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Post by Althea Markovic on Nov 25, 2008 21:30:01 GMT -5
September 15th - Monday
The sun was setting, the orange and pink light was stretching across the horizon, wrapping around the buildings of Puddlemere outside of the window that covered the front of Oubli, a quiet little French restaurant tucked into the city that catered to those who knew good food and had the bank to sacrifice for the occasional meal there. Althea had been to much more expensive. But this one was quiet, and the people here were absolutely entrancing. It was the kind of restaurant where you speak French.
"Le foie gras, s'il vous plaît," she said politely and elegantly to the waiter as she handed him the menu. "Et le vin de table." He nodded and took her order away. Althea grabbed a bit of baguette from the basket on her table and nibbled on the corner, looking out at the sunset.
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Post by (Prof) Ciardha Delaney on Nov 25, 2008 21:43:19 GMT -5
Professor Ciardha Delaney did not speak French. If you were smart, even before talking to her, you would know from her name that she was Irish. The Delaney family was an old wizarding family that did have the occasional muggle here and there. So, no, she was not terribly discrimanitory against those without magic in their bloods. Ciardha was equally annoyed with everyone. The point was, though, that her family had money and she used it to get out of the school to do some work somewhere were she still didn't really have to be social. This was one of her favourite spots.
Walking in by herself, looking particularly cold natured in her usual black dress, dark hair tugged up onto the back of her head. If it weren't naturally wavy, it would have made a hairdo that better represented her personality. Black leather bookbag in hand, she waited in the front, watching the workers clear her usual table in the back much too slowly for her taste.
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Post by Althea Markovic on Nov 25, 2008 21:58:30 GMT -5
Althea had given up on the sunset. It was depressing her. She looked toward the kitchen to see if there was any sign of her food, and then glanced around the restaurant. There were a few people that she had seen there before. An elderly couple who always spoke Italian to each other. And there were a few people that she hadn't seen there before. A young man in a suit reading a newspaper. Her professor, Ciardha Delaney.
... Her professor, Ciardha Delaney.
Althea did a double take. Literally. She stared for a moment, just a moment, and then she regained her learned composure and she turned back to her own table. Holy shit, she thought. And her cheeks got hot, and she was lucky that she never really got too red when she blushed. She looked at the depressing sunset and she tried her best to stop thinking about how gorgeous Professor Delaney was and how absolutely incredible it was to see her in the restaurant.
She looked back over, but didn't say anything.
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Post by (Prof) Ciardha Delaney on Nov 25, 2008 22:17:57 GMT -5
Ciardha was a usual in this restaurant, but she didn't always come at the same time. Most of her time was spent at the school taking care of potions that needed a lot of attention, and that usually meant being on call at all times. The workers here new where she liked to sit and how she liked to be treated, however little actually came, though, because of how insistant she was that everything be just right. She was a good cutomer who payed well, it would do them well to treat her right.
The host was young, probably just out of school and spoke to her in French as everyone else would. She knew he wasn't saying anything important so she didn't even try to get him to translate. It was a restaurant, how much could they possibly say that was important.
The potions master did not expect to see one of her students there, nor did see as she was seated not a table away.
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Post by Althea Markovic on Nov 25, 2008 22:49:33 GMT -5
Things got worse, or better, or more difficult to ignore, when the professor was seated a table away from Althea. She grinned and bore it, however. Well, figuratively. Althea didn't grin. Even if she were happy enough to do so, it wouldn't be very fitting of a lady.
When her foie gras and wine arrived, she graciously accepted the distraction. She sipped at the wine, she took a small bite of the food, and she looked back out the window. The sunset was fading to a black sky. Much less depressing.
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Post by (Prof) Ciardha Delaney on Nov 25, 2008 23:20:16 GMT -5
Ciardha was completely unaware of the trouble brewing at the next table over as she ordered herself a glass of wine. No small talk, just the name of the wine she knew she wanted. They had learned here a long time ago not to try and talk her into a different kind. She knew what she liked.
Once they were gone, a slightly older woman, probably around her age, Ciardha leaned over to pick up her bag. She had set it next to her chair when she sat down and she wasn't going to lie, though when standing the neckline of her dress showed off collarbones at the most, leaning over it would have been easier to see more. Ciardha was a genius with a cauldron, but when it came to her own beauty she barely had a clue.
Straightening, she pulled out yesterdays essays on sleeping potions and began reading, quill at the ready to mark the mistakes she knew she would find.
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Post by Althea Markovic on Nov 25, 2008 23:31:08 GMT -5
Althea wasn't out of the closet, but she was a pretty good lesbian despite it. And when Ciardha leaned down, her eyes immediately flew to the professor's cleavage. And then, like the lady she was, she went back to her meal. She even had a napkin in her lap. When the waiter came over, she asked, in perfect French, if he would kindly refill her wine glass. He obliged with a smile and was on his way. Althea sipped the wine as she finished her meal and then went on to glance at the dessert menu and tried to decide on what to have.
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Post by (Prof) Ciardha Delaney on Nov 25, 2008 23:45:10 GMT -5
Ciardha wasn't particularly hungry, so when her waitress came back to try and take her order she simply waved her off, eyes never leaving the parchment in front of her. A sigh escaped lips and the quill went to work, mercilessly marking off every mistake. Her students were disappointing her this quarter.
Reaching up for her wine, a voice caught in her ears. She had heard it before but certainly never in that language. She didn't know why she needed to figure out who was speaking but she chalked it off to scholarly curiosity. Of course, it didn't take her long to figure it out. One of her students was sitting nearby. Althea Markovic, not a horrible student overall. Apparently a name to know.
Ciardha watched her eat, wondering what she was doing here, wondering what she was eating, why she was alone, what kind of wine that was, was it the same as hers? All these questions flooded her mind without warning. It happened periodically. A sudden need to wonder or to see what someone is wearing and how it looks on them. She found herself staring at facial features, lingering on curves. She still had no idea that it was only for women. Or maybe she just didn't want to admit it.
Now she didn't realize she was watching the girl eat.
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Post by Althea Markovic on Nov 25, 2008 23:55:27 GMT -5
When Althea didn't pay attention, she let herself be human. So she chewed the corner of her lip and twirled a lock of hair around her index finger as she read the dessert menu that she should have had memorised by now. She didn't want the Èclaire, or the chocolate musse. What did she want? She almost squeaked, literally, when her eyes fell on the last dessert. The one she knew very well was coming but still got excited when she read it.
"Crème brûlée," she said to her waiter when he returned, and she sipped again at her wine when he walked off.
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Post by (Prof) Ciardha Delaney on Nov 26, 2008 0:02:48 GMT -5
Ciardha didn't really think things were cute but it was the only word she could think of for what the younger girl was doing. The hair, the sparkle in her eye when she saw the dessert, it almost made her smile. Almost. The feeling was coming on and though she fully intended to ignore it, her waitress came back before she even decide on that.
Ciardha jumped in surprise when the woman spoke, cheeks flaring up pink at the situation she wasn't really caught in. She frowned, trying to slow her heart rate down while mentally blaming the woman for her embarrassment. She didn't understand what she was saying to her.
"What? No, I want nothing."
She didn't speak French and her rather thick accent from her home country was almost comical in this setting. If she weren't such a prim and proper, not to mention cold woman someone might have laughed. Might have.
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Post by Althea Markovic on Nov 26, 2008 0:19:51 GMT -5
Althea noticed the waitress badgering Ciardha about not ordering any food. The wine wasn't enough to keep the table, she was saying. Rather rudely. Althea cleared her throat. "Tu n'as pas besoin de tracasser la femme dans cette manière, fille. Je suis le meilleur client du restaurant, et n'est pas une bonne idée me mettre en fureur," she said loudly and clearly, her voice calling attention from several other customers as well as the rest of the wait staff. And the owner. He rushed over and pulled, literally, the young waitress away by the forearm. And returned a moment later to apologise profusely to Althea.
"Non, Monsieur. À elle. Et en Anglais." And he did just that. He went over to Ciardha and began to apologise to her in English. And to assure her that her wine, and anything else she ordered for the rest of the evening, was on the house. And that she wouldn't be bothered again unless she asked to be.
Okay, so maybe Althea did grin. But only in self-satisfaction. And at the sight of her dessert. She picked up a spoon.
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Post by (Prof) Ciardha Delaney on Nov 26, 2008 0:50:42 GMT -5
Ciardha hardly had time to even think about using a spell to yell at the stupid woman, her student had come to her rescue. Sitting and watching, she couldn't help the feeling her words were giving her. It was like a shiver wanted to crawl down her spine, but instead it was moving slowly. It wanted to torture her, make sure she really knew it was there. She knew, but she tried not to accknowledge it. It or that farm feeling all over her body.
She disctracted herself by frowning at the man now speaking to her in english. Though she found herself quite flustered she was still able to keep up her cold exterior.
"As it should be. The one night I don't order food you send over this-"
She threw a glare at the waitress, hiding behind the owner, for fear of repremand from Althea again. They both knew she didn't have to finish her thoughts, he simply apologized again, backing away to get back to the rest of his restaurant. Ciardha's glare followed.
"Maybe I just should have sat with you, Miss Markovic."
She spoke to Althea, before she glanced up at her.
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Post by Althea Markovic on Nov 26, 2008 0:59:51 GMT -5
Althea would have blushed if she was one to blush. She smiled at the professor. "It would have been my pleasure, ma'am." She said. She told herself she was just being polite, of course. Because she wasn't really ready to totally admit to herself that she was completely attracted to a woman, let alone a female professor.
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Post by (Prof) Ciardha Delaney on Nov 26, 2008 1:03:52 GMT -5
Yes, well, Ciardha did blush sometimes. She hated it, but it was true. She tried to just pretend no one noticed it and went on with her life. Again, she hadn't made the woman connection. She wasn't sure if she ever would.
She glanced after that aweful waitress, eyes narrowing.
"See if I ever eat here again."
She took a sip of her wine and glanced back up at Althea. She wasn't sure why. It just happened that way.
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Post by Althea Markovic on Nov 26, 2008 1:05:42 GMT -5
When Ciardha looked up at Althea, Althea looked up at her, feeling the professor's eyes on her. She had just a moment ago cracked open the top of her dessert, and was about to dip her spoon in for a taste. She did so as she looked at Ciardha and then smiled. "I wouldn't give up food like this, even if they do hire morons."
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