honeysuckle. (cedric diggory.)

eight. ( a lover's spat! )

"Cedric, leave me alone or I swear I'll — Lucien?"

His hand was still outstretched for her arm, and her cheeks burned at how rude she had been to him. She opened her mouth to apologize, because he hadn't deserved that, and this terrible feeling of guilt was exactly why she despised such stormy, erratic emotions. Acting out, lashing out, blindly. So much damage could be done in mere seconds. Things could be said or done with disastrous consequences without even so much as a thought of caution; sometimes such things could not be fixed. And suddenly, all the anger that had sprung forward like a rushing torrent, abruptly ran dry.

But his pale blue eyes crinkled knowingly, accepting her silent apology, and he spoke before she could.

"'Ave you met Adrianne?"

The second set of footsteps she had heard belonged not to impetuous Blake Barrett, but to a willowy slip of a girl with curly hair the color of maple syrup, a perfect mix of auburn and caramel and gold, and a pale, round face splattered with freckles and acne scars.

"Adrianne Demont," the girl smiled prettily, exposing the slightest gap between her front teeth, and jammed her hand out for Elaine to shake. Elaine sniffed, fully aware of her splotchy cheeks and runny nose and red-rimmed eyes and how she had just been in the middle of what was likely the poorest excuse of someone storming off in history, and awkwardly shook Adrianne's hand. Was it really impossible for her to meet someone without looking like a fool?

"U-Um, hi." Her cheeks burned even more, because now her tongue had decided to trip her up even further.

"You look rough," Adrianne winced, finally taking in Elaine's stressed appearance. "A lover's spat?"

For some reason, Elaine could only focus on the fact that Adrianne didn't have an accent, and then she spluttered further for words that she suddenly didn't have, but Lucien spoke up again. "Elaine eez with ze pretty boy, Cedric — it eez complicated. 'e eez, ah, clueless. Too 'esitant pour une acte de foi. To take ze leap into love, comme Elaine."

"Shit," Adrianne began to laugh. "He must really be clueless, then. I've seen you two together maybe twice, but even I can see how much you fucking adore him. The sweetness of it is going to give me a cavity."

"Oh," Elaine mentally slapped some sense into herself. "I'm sorry?" ( But clearly not that much sense, as the words came out all shaky and high-pitched and her face grew even hotter, if that was possible. )

Adrianne's smile grew lopsided. "Don't be sorry. If Cedric ever comes to his senses, you two could take over the goddamn world together."

If Cedric ever comes to his senses. Elaine couldn't help but wonder if she'd ruined things forever. Merlin, she had yelled at him. He definitely hated her now. Part of her wanted to go back now and apologize. But a hint of that spitfire remained, and it thought that he still deserved a good kick in the behind.

"He is fit as fuck though. So why do you want to kick his arse?" Adrianne asked, tucking a tangled curl behind an ear lined with silver piercings.

"Eez everything okay?" Lucien asked, shooting Adrianne a half-glare. He ran a long-fingered hand through his platinum hair, and his brow furrowed in worry. Elaine had come to learn many things about the Beauxbatons boy: he spoke four languages, liked to swim, and wasn't a huge fan of vulgarity. She wondered for a moment how he and Adrianne had become friends, given that she could tell, within seconds of meeting her, that Adrianne was his polar opposite.

"Oh, loosen up, Lucie. Not all men out there are as perfect as you." Adrianne stuck her tongue out at him, and he rolled his eyes. It was such a casual act, one she had never seen him do before, and as he blinked his long lashes dramatically at Adrianne, who blinked hers haughtily right back, she decided that she wanted to be friends with them both forever.