Jacques Clement
Adult
Posts : 428
Birthday : 2004-08-10
Join date : 2015-04-12
 | | Subject: My head spinning around, I can't see clear no more (One Shot) Sun Mar 29, 2020 1:46 pm | |
| 5 November 2026
"They're following us again, Jac."
The Frenchman looked in the side mirror lazily, his eyes picking out the beaten blue moped following them along the streets of Ballycastle. They needn't have been surprised, though, every time Kiranjeet's inconspicuous Ferrari 812 GTS was turned on in the small Irish town, the paparazzi knew. Though, in fairness, the whole of Ballycastle knew when Kiranjeet was around, his... Kiranjeet didn't quite understand the rumble of the engine really could travel around the quaint fishing village they resided in.
"Of course they are, the most beautiful witch in the country is on the move, they have to know where she is going." Jacques replied, his hand reaching across the middle console of the car to take Kiranjeet's as she drove in her usual, casual manner of one handedness. How the two of them had managed to get her to pass her test last month, Jacques would never know, the bad habits were already showing as the Malaysian witch checked her rear view mirror again. The annoyed, and somewhat worried, look that crossed her features made Jacques grimace slightly in that moment.
It had been at the start of September that Jacques had had to explain to the witch that this was normal. Malaysia's usual policy with celebrities was, apparently, much less stalker like. Kiranjeet hadn't taken well to being followed, having told off a reporter for taking pictures of her coming from her home in Ballycastle in her 'casual' clothes. Jacques had squashed the story of the tirade of angry sentences Kiranjeet had uttered from ever reaching any media outlet, but it hadn't softened the blow for the Quidditch star. Instead, Kiranjeet had asked how he would like it, his privacy being taken from, his every move followed meticulously, not being able to be himself for even a second.
Kiranjeet had realised her own mistake as she had vented angrily at him.
The anger had instead turned to tears, and apologies as she moved in to his lap, and Jacques had held her close, telling her softly that this was the way the Western media worked. Privacy was a luxury neither one of them had. It had been halfway through the sentence in which Jacques had tried to explain that their... how his presence would not help with the level of attention Kiranjeet would receive that the witch had pressed her lips to his, hushing him in that moment. The kiss had been held for a short time, Jacques wanting to believe she might be able to handle this, but as they broke apart, he'd tried again.
The answer that had came had been physical, not verbal.
The gentle rock of the witch's hips would be the steady reassurance they both needed.
"I hate them."
"I know," Jacques replied, checking the side mirror again. "Take a right here." The Frenchman insisted, pointing to small side road coming up in front of them. It was already growing dark, and they didn't have the time to worry about one rider tonight. Kiranjeet's hand moved from his own, back to the steering column as she signalled and made the manoeuvre as instructed. Her eyes reflexively moved to the mirror. Watching, waiting. The frown touched her features softly as her dark orbs flitted between the road and the mirror.
Smiling to himself, Jacques checked the mirror to find the rider gone, as he knew they would be.
"What did you do?" Kiranjeet asked, looking across at him quizzically.
"I ensured that ma moitié gets the space she deserves." Jacques replied before motioning the witch to take the next left that they would come to.
Five minutes later, the car pulled up on the edge of the clifftop outside Ballycastle. Kiranjeet turned the engine off, leaving them in the quiet of the coastal space.
"Come on," Jacques told her, getting out of the car and heading to the small boot of the vehicle. The picnic basket had been organised by the staff, and with a quick flourish of his wand, the blanket had been laid out, the food put out on show, and the gentle warming spell in place would ensure the cold of the November evening would not bother the two of them. The wine poured itself as the couple sat comfortably down with the view of the sea lapping darkly at the shore, and the fishing boats bobbing up and down below.
"I don't understand why we-"
"Indulge me," Jacques insisted, handing a glass of wine to the witch before checking his watch. Two minutes.
Making sure Kiranjeet was sat in the right place, Jacques sat just behind the witch, supporting her weight as she leaned back against his frame. Whatever the witch might have been thinking she kept to herself as she sipped carefully at her glass, the impatience radiating from her as each second passed. The Frenchman could only smile to himself as he placed a kiss upon her shoulder and asked if she was ready. The nod came, and Jacques motioned out to the pier.
Almost as if on cue the first change to the scenery came. On the beach the large fire came in to life, slow at first as it crackled noiselessly from this distance. Another moment passed, and then the fire took hold, soaring up through the arrangement of logs, twigs and various other tree branches that had been assembled, illuminating the Malaysian witch's features with a faint glow from the flames. The wonderment had taken hold of the soft features of Kiranjeet's face, one that only grew with happiness as the first firework lit up the sky in red.
The firework display would light up the sky for ten minutes, each firework big, and bolder than the one before. Kiranjeet Kaur's eyes would remain transfixed upon the sky, trying to find the next firework before it exploded in a shower of colours, but Jacques Clement's eyes would not stray from her face, instead watching the fireworks reflecting in the softened brown orbs, or the way her mouth moved from a smile to a picture of awe and back again.
Truthfully, Jacques had not known whether Kiranjeet would like fireworks, or the display that was put on by the villagers of Ballycastle, but in that moment he'd known exactly. The witch had loved every second of it, not even remembering his presence throughout it all as she watched each firework fade in to the night's sky.
As the last firework faded from view, and the witch scouted the sky for any sign of more, Jacques couldn't help but smile at the witch's pure enthusiasm for the display. When the final recognition came that no more fireworks would be lighting the sky, Kiranjeet's eyes moved away from the sky slowly before returning to his face. The gratitude on her features made the smile upon the man's lips grow with each moment.
"You did this for me?"
"I chose this spot for you," Jacques replied softly as Kiranjeet leaned forth to press a kiss to his lips, one that grew slowly with the message of thanks being clear with each moment that passed. The Frenchman had drawn back slightly as his mind grew hazy, not wishing to leave the witch with false belief. "It's a tradition in the UK." He managed, but Kiranjeet's kisses were unrelenting, and the man found he could not deny her anything as she pressed him back to the floor.
***
"... and that," Jacques whispered as he pressed a light kiss against the column of Kiranjeet's throat. "Is where the symbolisation of the fireworks and bonfire come from." He concluded, the Malaysian witch had listened attentively to his tale as they laid upon the picnic blanket together. A second blanket covering them to the waist as they watched the night sky.
"It's a little barbaric," Kiranjeet had commented tiredly as she rested her head upon his chest. The smile reflected upon both their lips with that notion. The silence elongated in that moment, quite content in their moment.
Except the silence grew... tense.
"I wish we could stay here forever." Kiranjeet had commented, her fingers roaming across the material that covered Jacques' stomach.
The Frenchman had wanted to say something of equal weight in that moment. Wanted to tell her that he wished the same, that he couldn't think of a future without the witch, to express his feelings. To say something that would comfort Kiranjeet in that moment, but the words wouldn't ring true for them, and perhaps the witch knew.
"I know we can't." Kiranjeet added, almost so softly he might have pretended that he'd not heard. But he was a gentleman, and Jacques Clement refused to pretend he didn't listen to every word that the witch uttered as if it was the most profound wisdom in the world.
Shifting on to his side, the Frenchman lifted his hand up to tuck the waves of the witch's hair back gently behind her ear. The words had started to form, and just in the same moment Jacques opted to speak them aloud, they died upon his lips. Kiranjeet's eyes had lost the spark of joy that had been there earlier in the night, instead replaced by the sadness Jacques had never wished to see. Her fingers toyed lightly with the collar of his jacket as her eyes avoided his, a nervous tick that he'd only ever noted in the witch the mornings of her games.
"Kiranjeet," the man managed softly. The witch's eyes remained upon his collar. Gently the man's fingers pressed against the smooth curve of the witch's chin until her eyes would meet his. The small sad smile upon his lips would have conveyed enough, but enough was not what the man was aiming for. "If my future was mine to give freely... I would give it to you in a heartbeat."
The tears had formed in that moment, and the surge in the man's chest was almost too painful to withstand. Jacques' hand moved to carefully cup the witch's face as he stole just a moment more without her crying. Just one more.
"But, all the time that I do have... before my future is written for me... its yours, ma moitié."
The first tear slid down Kiranjeet's cheek in that moment and his thumb steered it away from being in a gentle caress.
"Or until you want me no more."
The witch's slender frame pressed closer to his as he spoke those words, denying them from being as her lips shakily moved to his. The kiss was bittersweet before Kiranjeet tucked her head beneath his. It was the symbol of understanding that came before the tears racked through her body.
"Mais même avec mon futur écrit, je ne suis pas sûr de vouloir me conformer..." The man had whispered in to her hair as he closed her eyes.
"Je ne suis pas sûr de vouloir me conformer."________________________________________________ | |
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The Administrator
Posts : 1363
Join date : 2015-12-20
| | Subject: Re: My head spinning around, I can't see clear no more (One Shot) Sat Apr 04, 2020 3:16 pm | |
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