Let's Go to the Movies

With a wave of his hand, the spoon stirred the pasta once more, and he mentally times it. Prodan gave her a weird look, and he laughed, "Honestly, Cecily, I had no idea what your blood was." Prodan leaned forward slightly, and he murmured, "Don't be silly. There are other reasons though..." he faded off. Prodan bit his lip and he glanced down. His stormy eyes closed and he wished that his mother wasn't rotting away somewhere. That Dementor's Kiss plus her body giving out within a few weeks of it gave him shivers.

He glanced back up at Cecily's eyes, "My father has an issue with women. I have no idea why. He always had. He hated Kalif's wife, Chavdar's girl, and his own wife and affair. But, don't get me wrong, my father is a pure-blood supremest, but I think he is a bit busy and all with Arnost and his...coming child. Last I heard, I think he was having a daughter." Prodan stood up straight once more, and he walked over to the pasta and strained it. The breadsticks popped out of the oven, and within a few moments, the table was set and dinner was ready.

Prodan laughed, "I find it funny actually. Nataliia told me about her boyfriend, or fiance or something. My dad will flip out when he discovers that he is a muggle. Maybe even faint. That would be funny to see." He motioned toward the table, "Ready to eat, Miss Rambolt?" Prodan flashed a huge smile.
 
Half relieved, half not, she listened to him speak earnestly about his father. A bigot. His father was a bigot, not only against her sex but against those not of 'pure' blood. She looked into the clear, silver eyes of the very attractive man in front of her and stood up. Would she let someone like his father, even the mere shadow of him, keep her from spending time with Prodan? Hell no; a thousand times no.

"I'm sorry, you're right, it was silly," she murmured. She brushed aside the vague tingling feeling of unease and tried to restore some semblance of the earlier mood. "Everything looks so wonderful." And it did. The smell was fragrant in her nose, made her mouth water and she knew it would be just as good to eat. She stood on tiptoe as she passed him to brush a soft kiss over his cheek. "Thank you."

She took her seat as he did his. Once they were both settled she picked up her fork and took a bite of the al dente pasta; chewed, swallowed. "Heavenly," she smiled. Casting about for something to talk about as they ate, she thought she'd found a safe enough subject. "So, big house, children in school...how do you spend your days normally?" she asked curiously.
 
Prodan's cheeks flushed with a hue of red as she complimented on how everything looked. If only he had two candles that he could light. Taking his seat, he started to eat. True, it was good! Then again, he would have chosen his own meals over anything else. Prodan wondered as he ate, what time it was, because at this time at night, he was usually getting ready for bed. It felt odd to be awake, and to have someone over his house as well.

Though right now, he had plenty of energy, and was about ready to stay up until the crack of dawn. It would be fun to stay up all night, he thought. Prodan swallowed a bite of breadstick, and he answered, "Mainly, I read in my little study, but usually, I spend my days outside swimming. Come in, work out a bit, and settle down with a book. Nothing really spectacular. Unless Kailie is running about."

Prodan then asked, "What about you? What do you tend to do while at school?"
 
Cecily ate at a good, moderately paced measure. But as promised, her plate, once piled high with noodles and bread that he'd put in front of her now sat nearly empty. She dipped the bread into the sauce on her plate and ate as he spoke. His days sounded wonderful, spent leisurely, without too many stresses. Still-- "Does it get lonely?" she wondered. She was forever surrounded by people, she would find it unnerving to be by herself for too long. "The days your niece isn't over?"

"Oh," she ate the last bit of her breadstick and washed it down with some water. "My days are filled with counseling students, catching rule breakers, answering owls, things of that nature," she shrugged with a small grin. "Although it's been a truly glorious day if I've got one of them strung up in the dungeons by their thumbs," she winked.

"I run about from sunrise to sundown and I guess I wouldn't trade it for anything." She rubbed a thumb over her cheek then looked back at him, her chin propped in her hands. "Have you been to one of our Quidditch games?"
 
Prodan was almost finished, as he finished off his breadstick, and his plate was almost gone. Pasta filled up this man's stomach quickly. Prodan answered truthfully, "Sometimes it does. But when I do get lonely, I tend to go visit my brother while he is in his shop. My brother Chavdar, that is." Prodan had three brothers, so, he made sure to clarify. Kalif wouldn't run a shop, and Azerail was too young to. After all, Azerail was in his second year of schooling.

With a sigh, he spoke, "That sounds like a busy day. I'm glad you get to enjoy your day off today though." He pictured students hanging up by their thumbs and he cringed, "That would hurt, though, strung up by the thumbs." Though humor lit up in his eyes when she winked. He was sure that she was kidding.

"No wonder you run so fast," said the man, as he winked at her this time. He thought for a moment ans he shook his head, "I would have to say not. Is it enjoyable to watch?"
 
Her green eyes lit up as she pictured the last two matches she'd attended. "Quidditch," Cecily began, "is amazing. The roar of the crowd, the sting of excitement in the air, the food," she chuckled, her face animated and smiling. It was obvious she loved the sport. "The funnest part is sitting among the students, listening to their chatter and hearing the blaring voice of the commentator."

"Will your children be trying out next year?" She nudged her plate out of the way in front of her so she didn't put her forearm in leftover sauce. "Everything was wonderful, by the way," she smiled.
 
Prodan laughed, "I would love to attend sometime. I'm sure my family love it too. Jaken was the Keeper last year, from what I heard. Except Aleyha hates the sport." He rolled his eyes. So many different personalities among the family. Hadan was terrified of Quidditch, the Styx kids loved it. Aleyha doesn't like it, and Austin loves Quidditch. Prodan grinned, "I do need to get out and watch a few quidditch games myself. I haven't seen it in action in a while."

Prodan thought for a moment, and he answered, "I think Austin will soon. Though apparently, the nerves in one of his arms are a little bad due to...an accident with Aleyha. Something happened and Austin was shoved down a flight of concrete stairs. I wasn't there at the time..." he faded off, sadness and guilt flickered in his eyes. Though his eyes lightened when she said the last part, "It's no problem. I loved it too." Prodan laughed.
 
"Jaken played a good game," she commented truthfully, lips quirking. "This year's teams are quick too. They know how to hustle." She glanced down then back up at him. "I'd like to see you there...sometime." She didn't come right out and invite him, not wanting to put him in an awkward position. But she had her suspicions that his children would flip to see him with someone other than their mother; let alone the Headmistress of their school.

Her hand came out and covered his softly. She knew all about guilt at someone in your charge being injured; it wasn't the same for her as it was for him as they were his flesh and blood, but she would never get over the guilt of watching a werewolf play with a little girl like a dog with a chew toy. "Accidents happen all the time," she sought to soothe him. "We can't be there for all of them, can we?" she asked, feeling connected with him.

Her hand slid back as the mood lightened. "I can't believe it. I'm not in the least tired," she laughed. "What would you like to do now?" Green eyes met silver with a wicked light.
 
Prodan chuckled, “So I have heard. Though the last time I saw him, he was a Keeper. His best position is a beater.” With his body build, it was easy to tell. Prodan thought for a moment, and he smiled, “I’ll try to make it there sometime. When there is a match on a day when I’m not watching Kailie.” Prodan wondered if it would be a good idea to begin with. After all, Aleyha would not like seeing her father with someone, then all hell would break loose in the stands. For such a little girl, she surely had a huge temper.

He bowed his head and he murmured, “Thing is, it wasn’t an accident. Aleyha pushed Austin on purpose, and because of it, Austin might not be able to play the very sport he loves so much. Something to do with nerves in his arm.” Prodan sighed and nodded, “But I suppose you are right now. Can’t be there for all of them…”

Prodan smirked slightly, “Then you are just like me.” He narrowed his eyes, a bit of mischief flickering in them. “Depends. What would you be up to this time at night?”
 
Cecily filed the information away. She'd no idea that Aleyha would do something so malicious to her own brother. Although as an only child, she couldn't comprehend fully the bond nor misdeeds done between siblings. She'd watched more than the common fight between families during her years as a teacher.

Green eyes glanced about before lighting on the very inviting waters outside. The moon was high and near full, moonbeams bouncing off the nearly still water. "What about a swim?" The light in her eyes and smile trembling on her mouth dared him.
 
Prodan glanced outside, and he smiled at the idea, "That sounds great!" However, he then inquired, "In the pool or in the ocean? And do you have a swimming suit with you?" Prodan had his swimming shorts up in his bedroom. It wouldn't take long to go change in them. Though whether or not he would swim in a shirt was beyond him. But he sure as hell would not wear a speedo. That was just embarrassing. He mentally chose his black and blue trunks. With a flick of his hand, the table was cleared, and the dishes started to wash themselves.
 
It was tempting, oh so tempting, to say that she wouldn't need a suit, simply to see him blush and possibly stammer. Cecily grinned and shrugged the temptation away, figuring she'd give his capillaries a break; she'd made him blush enough since they'd met. The sea called to the sea salt that would always run through her blood, had since birth. "Ocean." She stood, pushed her chair in silently and as the dishes started cleaning themselves, answered, "No I don't, but I can transfigure my shirt. I'll um, just go get changed."

She glanced at him then away, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The restroom wasn't hard to find. She shut the door and leaned back against it, blowing out a breath and looking up at the ceiling. A pent up breath expelled forcefully from her lungs. With quick movements she had whipped off her shirt, palmed her wand and with quick flourishes had transfigured the cloth into a near exact replica of her white bikini at home.

Clothes folded, shoes set neatly on top of the stool in the corner, Cecily looked at herself in the mirror and twisted this way and that. The two piece bathing suit wasn't risque, it touched off her golden tan perfectly. Vanity, thy name is woman. She rolled her eyes and thought maybe she should have tweaked it a bit to cover more. Like long johns, she thought wryly. Resisting the urge to shroud herself in a large towel, she settled for grabbing a clean wash cloth and turning it into a sheer yellow cover up. She slipped it over her head and tied the ties around her neck. At least it covered something.

Cecily had grown up on ships, with parents who could put the hippies of the 1970's to shame with their free speech, etc. She'd never been self conscience of her body, her other bathing suits she owned covered less than this back home. While she would never strut herself around anyone at the school, back home it had never mattered. But with Prodan, it did matter. Would he like what he saw? Nervously she twisted the knob and went back to the kitchen, her bare feet making little noise on the floor.
 
Prodan smiled and thought, She really is talented... Prodan was not a good example of transfiguration spells. That rested in Nataliia's skills. Prodan stood up after Cecily departed, and went upstairs to his bedroom. He wondered aloud, his voice hushed, "I probably should wear a shirt..." He opened up his closet, searching the hangers for a pair of trunks. His fingers finally felt the material, and pull them off the hanger. He stripped himself of his clothes, and quickly put on his trunks.

His black t-shirt in hand, he stood in front of a mirror. His body built was superb, but Prodan concealed it anyhow. He ran his fingers through his hair, and summon a pair of flips. As much as he disliked sand between his toes, he loved swimming anyhow. As long as nothing swam up his trunks or jellyfish getting friendly with his legs.

Exiting his bedroom, he walked down the stairs and into the living room. He heard sounds in the kitchen, but very faintly. Prodan called out, "Let's go, Cecily!" His voice was warm, and delighted. He loved swimming, and with someone he liked as much as he did just made things better. The moonlight over the hushed whispers of the ocean set the scene perfectly. It was one of the many reasons why he loved this place more than Bulgaria.
 
Upon seeing no one in the kitchen, Cecily stood there awkwardly then heard Prodan calling for her. Nervously she ran her fingers through her curly hair before walking into the living room. Sweet Merlin. She was eternally grateful to whatever gods were listening that he'd decided to wear a shirt. Any more of his powerfully built body on display and she wouldn't be able to speak at all. As it were all that she managed was, "I'm ready."

She smiled at him, trying to ignore the heat rising in her cheeks.
 
Prodan's jaw almost dropped open when he saw her. She was stunning, and he was hoping that she did not go swimming much over at Hogwarts. The school had a hot mistress with a nice body. Prodan managed to say, "All right then. Can't waste much of the moonlight outside." He opened the front door, and headed out, knowing that she would soon follow. He lead the way around the house, and to the beach. The salty air smelt better than the pasta to him.
 
Cecily felt foolish for worrying so much. She didn't have to worry around Prodan, not when he looked at her like that. One look from his stormy eyes and she felt like a million galleons. Following a bit more slowly, she saw him hit the sand before she did. The sand felt good, it held a touch of the day's heat within its grains, under her bare feet. The water beckoned to her like a mother to her babe; which was exactly how it felt. Cecily loved the sea, in its many shapes and forms. She paused feet from the water to reach up, eyes closed to heighten the salty air, and untie the cover up. It fell at her feet. She breathed deep, then ran forward to dive into the cool ocean.
 
Prodan watched her dive in, and stood there for a moment, admiring her, before diving in himself.
Time passes...
Prodan scrabbled out of the water, shirtless now because Cecily managed to trick him somehow and get it off him. Prodan finally got out of the ocean, and he moved the water out of his face. He called out, "Cecily! You better give it back!" Prodan laughed and he murmured to himself, "How on earth did she manage to do that?" It was just amazing. And amusing to him as well.

Soo out of words. XD
 
Cecily scrambled out of the water and jogged across the sand. Her giggly laughter, the kind where she knew she was doing something a bit naughty, rang out behind her. While they were swimming and playing she'd used a trick she'd learned years ago swimming with her school friends; presto! One shirtless Prodan and one sodden Cecily holding it up like a trophy, running toward the house.

"I've got your shi-rt, I've got your shi-rt," she sing songed, laughing. Knowing he was right behind her, she bolted through the open door. Her wet, sandy feet made the floor slippery. Still laughing, she was about to fling out another taunt behind her, her head turned when she ran into something. Something solid, something tall, something breathing!

Looking up, laughter caught in her throat, she uttered one syllable. "Eep."
 
The night was still, and Asparuh had not slept for the past few days, a sour look reminded on his face. His black eyes gleamed with aggravation. He was not one to bother right now in this mood. Gazing over the family tree, he glared at his daughter, Nataliia's, picture. He was unaware that she was pregnant, and the tree had not updated this information yet. All he knew was that he was forced to promise to never interfere with her love life. It struck many suspicions, but alas, he kept his distance. Asparuh had his arms folded across his chest, and his gaze landed on Thorine's. No longer was he upset over the child, but rather the circumstance.

Because of that twisted leech, Arnost was no longer around, and the Zhefarovich Manor was silent except for the portraits and ghosts. His eyes landed on Prodan's picture, and he rolled his eyes. Surely he had gotten over that half-blood by now. Asparuh was right about her all along, and Prodan never listened. Though how Asparuh handled it in the past was necessary, but obviously not enough. That woman was dead now, by his hands, and he was proud of it. And Namina was rotting as well. Remembering the kills as if they were just yesterday rather than many months ago. Asparuh felt a sudden urge to travel, though he had no idea where to.

Asparuh focused on a desirable location, and apparated. With a loud crack, he appeared in Prodan's house. His eyes swept the area, the house was barely large enough for three people in Asparuh's eyes. At least the pictures of Dorothee were gone. Entering the kitchen with eerie silence, he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the two clean plates. Asparuh's mind pondered. Prodan couldn't be up at this hour. It was so unlike him. Stepping back into the living room, Asparuh thought he heard something. Laughter? He was a few feet from the door, when it came crashing open and Asparuh's expression twisted into irritation rather than vague.

He had to take a step back from the blow. His hand went to his chest, and he felt dampness. Asparuh's eyes landed on a blonde woman whom he could have sworn was familiar. His cold, threatening eyes bore into hers, and then he glanced up to see his son in the doorway, without a shirt, dripping wet. Asparuh stood there in silence, and he glanced at the two of them. Something he was unaware of, and he did not like it very much. Asparuh spoke, his voice dripping with ice, "Is there a reasonable explanation as to why you are without a shirt, and this young woman has it?"
 
Prodan practically came to a complete halt when he saw a tall, dark looming figure standing in the living room. His eyes widened when he recognized his father. The hot tempered Asparuh, only if someone were to press the right buttons. With Cecily on the floor, and Asparuh looked a little aggravated, Prodan guessed that she ran right into him. Prodan winced slightly when Asparuh's cold voice cut the air. But something befuddled him, what was Asparuh doing here, this time at night? Either way, Prodan had to come up with an explanation, or else someone would get hurt.

Prodan managed to inform, "We were swimming, and well, we were just acting like teenagers and having a spot of fun." Prodan folded his arms across his bare chest. "Father, meet Cecily, Cecily, meet my father Asparuh." Prodan bowed his head in a symbol of respect to the Patriarch of the family. It was customary for the Zhefarovich family. More so now because of Ivaylo's portrait's wishes.
 
Cecily Rambolt couldn't count the number of embarrassing moments in her life on one hand; she'd need all ten fingers, ten toes and a few pungi sticks. The mortification she felt at getting knocked on her arse by Prodan's father, although her fault entirely, moved right up the list to top number one on her chart. She sat there, back on her hands, legs akimbo, hair askew and wished the floor would open up and eat her. Nommy snack for some hell demons she was sure.

Seeing no respite from Merlin or whomever she decided she had two choices as she looked up up up at the cold, dark man she'd seen once before months ago. She could either give into fear and make a nice puddle on Prodan's floor. Or she could do what she did that managed, once it was over, to shock even her.

"Lovely to meet you, Mr. Zhefarovich." Her british tone was clipped but nonetheless nonchalantly chipper. Getting to her feet as though she'd just met him in her office and not a mass of nerves on the floor, she took a moment to dust her bum off. "Thanks, gentleman," she said wryly, "for the hand up."

Ignoring the fact that she had little clothes on, was soaking wet and the man in front of her radiated danger, Cecily stood mere feet from Asparuh. "So," she looked at Prodan, raised her eyebrows, her hands coming in front of her; one hand snapped its fingers then came down with an audible clap on her closed fist as she rocked back on her heels. "How about those Falmouth Falcons?"
 
Asparuh's gaze landed on the woman named Cecily, finally recognizing her. From the Leaky Cauldron when he was about to eradicate that one girl, before she became a Death Eater in training. Asparuh said nothing in return to her, and turned his gaze down to Prodan. Asparuh naturally towered over him, by several inches. "I see that you got over that ex-wife of yours rather quickly," his eyes glanced at Cecily momentarily, before landing back on his son. "I told you time and time again that the Devearux woman was a disgrace."

Asparuh's arms folded over his chest, and he said, in perfect monotone, "Though I do notice that your tastes have rose." Whether it was a compliment to Cecily or an insult to Prodan was a mystery. The Death Eater continued to stand where he was, and with a wave of his hand, the door shut behind Prodan, to not let the bugs in. His icy eyes bore onto Prodan's stormy eyes, until a certain comment made Asparuh focus on Cecily. He gave her an odd look, and murmured, "In a hurry for a subject change?" Slightly amused, Asparuh kept his eyes onto the young woman.
 
Prodan felt the door close, and he gave his father a weird look. He shook his head, "Father, I know you were right about her. But enough of that now. And..." His voice faded off when Asparuh said something about his tastes rising. Was he insulting him, or complimenting Cecily? Probably a mix of both. Prodan bit his lip, to hold in a laugh - something very hard to do when he was around Cecily.

Prodan sighed, and offered, "Um, instead of talking about quidditch teams, how about we get changed into... Um, clothes?" Prodan put on a sheepish smile.
 
Cecily fought the flinch as those cold silver eyes were upon her again; even with humour tinging his voice he was still the coldest creature she'd ever met. Prodan's comment stopped her from making one of her own to Asparah. "Clothes?" She glanced down at herself and shrugged. "I suppose so." Tossing the wet shirt to Prodan she walked around his father toward the rest room. "If you'll pardon me, gentlemen." She kept the cool act up, even though her hands were twitching to pull the sides of her bottoms to cover her bum more. Feeling their eyes on her back, she blessedly made it to the restroom and once again found herself pressed against the door from the inside.

She allowed herself one moment to hyperventilate silently, bent over, head toward her knees before straightening and hurriedly transfiguring and drying her clothes. Dressed, she applied a drying charm to her hair. Then nearly groaned. It was a mass of wild curls. Figuring she had taken enough time, she headed back to the living room.
 
Asparuh waited until Cecily was out of sight, before hissing to his son in Bulgarian, his black eyes flaming, "Are you out of your mind, Prodan? Not even waiting a year after a divorce." Asparuh had half a mind to knock some sense into his son, but something stopped him. At least Cecily wasn't pregnant. Asparuh's breathing slowed. Asparuh sighed and shook his head, "I guess it could be worse." Asparuh turned as he heard someone descending the stairs. Asparuh ordered Prodan coldly, "Now you." He narrowed his eyes once more at Cecily, before gazing down at his arms.

As Prodan ascended the stairs, Asparuh turned his back on the door, his long, silk-like blonde hair gently brushing his back. His eyes were as black as coal, losing their stormy hue due to constant use of Dark Arts, as he gazed around the area. His eyes fell on a portrait of Aleyha, and the girl looked about eight. It perturbed him that the photo did not move or even speak. Muggle filth in the home of a Zhefarovich descendant. Curse that woman for bringing him into this... damned Asparuh in his mind. Asparuh said nothing more, while Prodan was upstairs.
 
You must log in or register to reply here.

Users who are viewing this thread

Total: 1 (members: 0, guests: 1)
Back
Top