Little Talks - A Draco Malfoy Love Story

55

The Louvre was quiet on Mondays. The artwork was all the same to Faris, she'd never seen all of it before. There was too much to see after all. There were thirty-five thousand pieces of art. She'd wondered how long it took people to see all of them one after another.

The room the Mona Lisa was held in was always busy. And Draco was always complaining. First, there was a glare on the glass shielding the Mona Lisa, then they got stuck slow walking behind an old couple.

"Pfft, I could do that," Draco scoffed, burying his hands in his coat pockets.

Faris snorted, "Whatever floats your boat."

"You don't think I could?" A sly grin stretched across his face as he stopped in his tracks to exit the room.

She shrugged while walking ahead of him, "I think you're saying that because the painting is extremely simple compared to Liberty Leading the People."

"The Bridge at Narni is simple," he spat.

"Alright, your Grace, I believe that you can paint a Bridge at Narni replica."

"Thank you," he smirked like he was a prince that just chose his pride over a peasant.

~*~

The restaurant seemed like the type of place his parents would dine at for an anniversary. Dim lights, quiet conversation, violin, and piano played live, and perfectly set tables. To sum it up it was the type of place a couple would play footsies under the table.

The couples around Draco and Faris seemed to be putting on an act towards their partner, all flirtatious smiles, and fake laughs to terrible jokes. The tensions were so thick you could cut them with a butter knife.

And yet Faris and Draco didn't fail to make fools out of themselves.

The whole idea of their dinner was sickly romantic. They would've canceled the reservations if they weren't hungry and their feet didn't hurt from all the walking around the Louvre.

The paper wrappings from their straws were being shot at one another, the small portions of their food easily being inhaled in one bite.

"For the love of God I want some actual food," Fairs whined, leaning back in her chair. "Even some fucking spaghettiOs would be just dandy right now."

Draco snorted trying to cover it with a cough as he caught a couple of dirty glares being thrown at him. "We can leave if you want, I wasn't going to say anything but I'd much rather we eat something that doesn't taste like fish." Faris snapped her fingers at one of the waiters impatiently, he stopped in front of their table with a pleasant smile.

"'ow can I be of assistance?"

"Okay . . . Julien, we want some actual food, and I'm not talking about those tiny-ass portions you've been serving all night. I mean food that can be eaten in more than two bites. You get my drift?" She asked, Draco smirked.

The waiter hesitantly nodded, "perhaps I could convince the 'ead chef-"

"You know what," Faris said, "there won't need to be any convincing. Goodnight Julien, enjoy serving your tiny portions," she grinned, standing up from her chair. Draco followed after her, helping her slip her coat on at the door.

"Alright, now where?" Draco breathed out.

"Anywhere with more than just salmon puffs sounds magical," Faris said in a dead voice, her lips forming a line.

"We don't have many options, love. It's getting late."

She stifled a groan, lazily leaning against him as they walked. "Well, there is this small restaurant down the road a bit, the food's okay but . . ."