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Post by Natalia Hayes on Oct 3, 2012 18:29:24 GMT -5
JULY 2022 Camille had packed all of her things and, after a nice breakfast, said goodbye to her brother. She grabbed her weekend bag that she'd been using while she stayed with her brother for the week, slung it over her shoulder and headed outside. Camille stepped outside into the sunshine and looked around the street. A few people dotted the street here or there. Taking a deep breath, Camille began to walk down the street. She'd managed to convince her brother that a friend of hers lived nearby and she was going to visit them before she went home. But that wasn't the truth. The truth was that she was meeting up with one of her brother's friends, Nicholas Eames. He was totally gorgeous and he was in a band. But those weren't the only things Camille liked about him. She had had the chance to spend some time with Nicholas over the last week and he was a sweet guy. He was older, yes, but that didn't matter in the scheme of things. Rounding the corner of the pavement, Camille saw Nicholas waiting just a few feet ahead. She smiled at the sight of him and hurried to his side. "Hey," she said casually. They had to sneak around because no one would approve their relationship. They weren't dating, but they had kissed a few times over the last week and Camille wanted to see him once more, privately, before she returned home. "Have you been waiting long?"
((ooc: no idea how to have started it! lol. i didn't start at the very beginning, but i started when things get interesting at the beginning... xD i really hope this is cool! let me know if it isn't)) |
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Post by Nicholas Eames on Oct 4, 2012 13:05:50 GMT -5
Nicholas Eames was leaning against a gate at the end of the street he had arranged to meet Camille Devereux on, basking in the sunshine, clasping a cup of coffee he'd purchased from a nearby cafe, which was unarguably the most divine coffee he'd ever come across in his life. He frequented that particular cafe - it was close enough to the band flat, and thus Nicholas would make the effort to amble there every weekend or so - generally with his head aching from the sheer amount of alcohol consumed from the night before - and order coffee and a slice of cake. That morning, however, no headache was obstructing the loveliness of the day, as he'd been rather well-behaved the night before - he'd simply gone out to dinner with a couple of school-friends, and even when he was noticed by a couple of girls who seemed only fresh out of Hogwarts and rather eager to have more than an excited conversation with him, he'd retired home early, and very much alone.
As he knew exactly where Camille would be coming from - he'd been invited to Arthur's flat enough times, after all - he caught sight of her the moment she rounded the corner, his mouth turning upwards into his slow, lazy grin, pushing off the gate and standing upright to properly scrutinize her as she approached. "Morning, darling," he said cheerfully once she'd reached him, noting how dreadfully pretty she really was and wondering how Arthur could do anything but expect him to be attracted to her. Eames cast his gaze down the long street, checking just as a precaution in case Arthur had decided to take an early morning stroll or hightail it down to one of the nearby cafes or shops before kissing Camille very gently on the cheek - although it was quite a lot nearer to her lips than many usual pecks would be - and his hand touched her upper arm very lightly as he did so, something akin to a promise that once they were somewhere less public far more kissing was to come. However, being outwardly quite the gentlemanly chap, and almost excellent at self-control, for the minute Eames drew back, smiling at her quite knowingly, eyes dancing mischievously. "You look lovely. I assume your brother doesn't suspect a thing?"
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Post by Natalia Hayes on Oct 7, 2012 8:06:02 GMT -5
Camille looked chuffed at being calling darling. Not many people used that word anymore, did they? And no one had ever used it towards her in the context that Eames was. She was, perhaps, one of the few girls who liked pet-names. Some girls she knew hated to be called hon or babe or baby or love or gorgeous or even darling - plus the loads more that guys seemed to pull from thin air. Mac was like them, however. She thought they were sweet. Besides, no one had ever used them on her before, so it was only right that she got to experience it. Then, in a few years time, she could complain about them.
Or not.
"Thank you. As do you," Mac said softly, smiling at the older boy after he kissed her lightly. She sometimes found herself amazed at his self-control. But Eames was unlike other guys. He knew how to act towards a lady in public. He knew how to be a gentleman, which was probably the reason Mac found herself attracted to him in the first place. Boys her age weren't gentlemanly. They just wanted to snog and fuck. It was like their inner mantra or something. She knew that if she did have sex with Eames (her toes and fingertips tingled with anticipation), it wouldn't be a fuck. It would be much more passionate. She shook her head. "No, he doesn't suspect anything at all. As far as he's concerned, I'm at a close friend's house right now, gossiping and trying on clothes." She shrugged.
Reaching out, Mac took Eames arm, and looked up at him. "You don't... you don't feel weird about this, do you?" she asked. She didn't want to force him into anything. She didn't want him to have a falling out with her brother. Mac didn't plan on telling Arthur anything, but people had ways to find out about things. "I'm perfectly fine, just so you know. I'm just worried that I'm forcing you into something...." She trailed off.
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Post by Nicholas Eames on Oct 25, 2012 16:29:07 GMT -5
"Fantastic," Eames beamed at her, before his smile faltered slightly, saying, making a brave stab at sounding even slightly guilty, "I suppose I should feel bad, you being my friend's younger sister, and all," which was followed by a thoughtful sip of coffee. Eames couldn't quite bring himself to feel too remorseful; obviously, he'd felt a bit bad at the start, but Camille was hardly a child, and she was terribly pretty and seemed sort of delicate and a lot cleverer than most girls her age were. He supposed that if he confided in any of his friends about her they'd chatise him because it sounded bad - sounded, perhaps, as though he'd decided to lead her on or mess around with her because she was young and pretty and people always assumed that teenage girls were easy to trick, easy to convince. But, although he wasn't exactly going to propose to her, he did think her rather lovely and that cancelled out the majority of the guilt. "Oh well," he said cheerfully, tilting his head to one side, mouth turning up into a smile. "Karma will come around and bite me in the arse. Until then," he said, threading his fingers through hers and pulling her gently towards the park just behind the street they had met on, pushing open the rusty gate and leading her into the park, the shade of the canopy suggesting a certain camouflage from the rest of the world which suited him perfectly.
"Do you always worry this much?" Eames asked her, stretching his arm over her shoulders, fishing a pair of sunglasses out of his jacket-pocket and putting them on, because he felt that it was a delightful rock-star cliche to wear sunglasses. "'S fine. We can take a walk, because the sun is shining, and that - and then back to mine, if you want," he suggested cheerfully, adding, "All of them will be out for ages so I can cook us lunch and you can stay for a couple of hours. Unless you've got something better to do," he tacked on, in a tone that suggested he did not think she did but he would manage if she did happen to have something she'd prefer to do.
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Post by Natalia Hayes on Nov 1, 2012 7:27:56 GMT -5
A smile tugged at the corner's of Camille's lips as she listened to Eames explain why he didn't feel so guilty. He didn't really have an answer, but Camille didn't mind. It made her feel less bad, not that she'd felt too incredibly guilty or anything before this. But she liked to make certain of a few things in life. Besides, Eames was a great guy and his friendship alone was enough to make sure that she wasn't rocking the boat, so to speak.
"Who is this karma you speak of so lightly?" Mac asked, smiling up at him as he seized her hand. She held his hand firmly - not too tightly because she didn't want to seem clingy and not too loosely because she didn't want to appear disinterested. The park was beautiful and it filled her with a feeling that she'd never quite had before. She looked up at Eames as he was several inches taller than she.
"I wouldn't call it worrying," Camille said carefully. "Well, I didn't mean for it seem worrying. I just like to double check... it's a habit. But I suppose I should just relax and jump, hmm?" She sounded thoughtful now, moving a little closer to Eames as they strolled along the path. As he spoke, she couldn't help but to think how carefree and sexy his voice was. It would be easy to go along with whatever plans he made. Not that she didn't have a mind of her own, of course. "No, all of that sounds perfect. Absolument merveilleux." Camille shook her head. "I haven't got another place to be. I'm yours all afternoon... or however long you'll have me." She look at him curiously. "Are you a good cook, then?"
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Post by Nicholas Eames on Nov 1, 2012 10:24:16 GMT -5
"Karma's what's going to come and get me," Eames assured her, sounding utterly relaxed about the entire thing and not in the slightest apprehensive about karma catching up with him. "I've managed to evade it for the past twenty-something years, but I think my time is going to be up soon. Might as well enjoy it while I can," he added, ignoring the beautiful park they were in entirely and turning towards Camille, taking in the prettiness and her delicate looks appreciatively, a sincere look of adoration rolling onto his features, because he genuinely didn't think that anyone could meet Camille and not adore her. They'd met first in a group of people, mostly composed of Arthur's friends, and he'd noticed her immediately although, being Eames, he'd been very careful and polite and charming and acted beautifully towards her at all times, although especially when her brother was around, as he knew that Arthur probably wouldn't be amused by Camille being involved with an older guy, particularly one who was in his late twenties and in a rock band and quite well-known for being a flirt.
"Relaxing sounds perfect - it's a lovely summer's day, the sun is shining, the birds are singing, and you've got your own musician to amuse you for a couple of hours," he told her easily, pulling her closer as they walked, enjoying how neatly she fitted beside him and the sweetness of the day, strolling around under the sun. Absent-mindedly, his fingers began playing with her hair as he led them both along the path that he knew would be the quietest and therefore the most discreet if they felt like getting closer - just in case any of his friends, or her friends, or, heaven forbid, Arthur ran into them. "Merveilleux," Eames repeated slowly, smiling crookedly at her. "French?" He guessed, deciding that the way it rolled off her tongue reminded him of French. "Mine all afternoon! I like that," Eames said happily, before pulling her closer, arm moving to wrap around her waist and squeeze her body gently, leaning his head down slightly so that his lips were beside her ear. "I don't like to brag, but I'm a sensational cook," he murmured, puncturing the end of the sentence with a peck on her cheek.
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