❝ sweet talk - saint motel ❞
↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺
martine's definition of fun happened to be parties. they were going to a party.
as far as ophelia was aware, martine had not even been in france for 48 hours, yet she had somehow found a local party, picked out a dress, and had an entire game plan sketched out. it was admirable, to be honest.
"we'll do your history walks and cute tour later." she had said, while shoving a random blue dress she'd gotten for ophelia into her arms.
"where're you going?" james called, when ophelia was attempting to make her way casually out the door.
so by the time ophelia and martine made their way off the villa property at seven o'clock in the evening, they were joined by the overly raucous countenance of james, sirius, and a subdued remus. toulouse was alive at night, the cobbled paths akin to the veins of the town, the people the flowing lifeblood of the summer evening.
the breeze was warm, so ophelia was rather grateful for the fact that she dressed more spryly than she usually was; the only benefits of the blue polyester dress that she had been gifted were that it was cool (temperature wise, the same could not be said for the cut), and it somewhat flattered the slight dip of her slim hips. her hair was down, and she'd had the grace to actually comb it, so it looked less frazzled than usual, the dark brown tresses tucked behind her ears, curling slightly outwards at the ends. she looked quite pretty, as far as she was aware.
"where even is this party?" remus questioned suspiciously, once their little group had made yet another turn down an alleyway that, in the veil of darkness, seemed almost exactly the same as the previous fifteen. martine patted him vaguely on the shoulder in an 'i got this' sort of way.
"i have a friend who lives here, her name is rhys." martine explained, shrugging her shoulders. "she's hosting a party in the garden of a friend's estate. dunno her name."
"so we're going to a party hosted by someone we don't know at an unknown location, then?"
"yes, and?" that quietened him, actually.
low and behold, there was actually a party. what a surprise. it was a rather impromptu one, ophelia assumed, as it was open-aired, surrounded by the stone walls of the property that were lavished in fairy lights and a dosage of english ivy. the delicacies laid out on snack tables were no culinary delight– probably acquired hastily from a pantry cabinet or a quick stop to the local grocer; but there was alcohol, so that made up for it.
there were at least twenty-six other people present, dancing to the music from a brass loudspeaker, which ophelia assumed had to be amplified by magic, because that shit was earbleedingly loud. the atmosphere seemed jovial, however, with the faint laughter dancing on the air, the idle chatter.
"bonsoir, darlings." a young woman, who ophelia assumed was rhys, sauntered up to greet them. her outfit was...eccentric, in ophelia's opinion, brightly coloured, even, but she would be lying if it didn't look good. martine made an exclamation of greeting, kissing her on both cheeks in a hasty greeting.
"rhys, a pleasure as usual. this was the friend i was telling you about." she said quite cheerfully, pushing ophelia forward so she could shake rhys' hand. "--and those are just her associates." martine added, waving her hand vaguely at where remus was attempting to dissuade sirius from eating what looked like old croutons.
"lovely, lovely." rhys mused, giving ophelia a polite smile (that handshake was firm), before turning her attention back to martine. "alright, what are you ladies waiting for, allons-y."
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
there he was again.
ophelia had barely noticed any faces around her after her nth glass of wine, but the moment regulus black appeared in her peripheral vision during her futile relocation of james and sirius, who'd vanished, she'd made a bee-line for him.
he didn't seem like the party type, to be honest. the whole construct of regulus black that she had held back at hogwarts was that he was aloof, above fraternizing and letting loose to actually enjoy life a little– but he actually looked pretty normal tonight. his hair was less meticulously groomed, the curls splayed over his pale forehead like a tousle of roots, with a plain black long-sleeved shirt that would probably vanish him into the shadows if he needed a quick escape.
"look who it is." she called, causing him to look up with a slight air of surprise, before a slightly irritated smirk graced his lips.
"potter."
"what're you doing here?" she questioned, her grip quite lax around the cup she was holding as she approached him, sitting beside him on the picnic bench he was reclined on– sitting on the actual table plank for that extra elevation.
regulus shrugged, his grey eyes flicking over her for a moment. "an acquaintance of mine forced me into attendance." he noted dryly as he took a sip of the wine from her paper cup– a peculiar sight, as his whole aesthetic would call for a hand-crafted glass. "you're drunk."
it was a statement, not a question.
she was tipsy– more than that, actually. the dull throb in her cranium was somewhat soothed by the flutter of euphoria and carelessness alcohol seemed to elicit in her. ophelia wasn't a big drinker by any means, but that didn't mean she wasn't immune to getting flat out drunk if she was bored enough.
"shut up." she replied, her tone laced with a dry humor as she leaned over to elbow regulus lightly, causing him to let out an amused scoff. "so you are drunk."
her brows furrowed slightly in consideration, before looking back at him, taking a moment to register the fragile proximity between themselves. another sip of her drink, and she was quite sure that her whole perception of time and space would crumble. "a teensy bit inebriated, yes." ophelia conceded, a grin back on her face. what had she been worrying about? this was fucking fun. "but so are you."
"yes." regulus replied begrudgingly, setting down his glass beside him, "just a teensy bit, as you said."
if she had been sober, she'd probably kick herself for giggling like that, a gently drunken titter, which was all her vocal chords seemed to be able to manage after her fervent attempts at locating james and sirius– oh, that was what she had been doing. the world seemed to sway slightly, as the music faded out slightly into the back of her mind.
"do you know this song?" ophelia questioned, the only intake of information she was consuming was the fact that the song was in french. when in doubt, ask the cute boy who spoke french. what?
regulus paused, clearing his throat as he frowned, before shaking his head, the dark curls that pooled over his forehead casting shadows over his eyes. "no, i do not. do i look like the sort of person to listen to french pop?" he then looked slightly humored, exhaling through his nose. "don't answer that."
"why not? french pop music isn't the most atrocious thing to ever grace my ears. i've heard you speak." ophelia noted, before pausing and wrinkling her nose in an apologetic manner. "oh, i see what you mean."
"you're so rude." regulus decided, though the statement lacked his usual bite. perhaps it was the alcohol in his system, or the lateness of the hour, but ophelia was quite certain that the levels of his disdain had lowered monumentally. "i'm aware."
"does everything you say have to be poised to knock me down a notch?" he added, bringing her attention from the dancing muggles back to him. "would a pleasant word now and again bring you agony?"
"no." she looked amused, cocking her head to the side. "i can do compliments."
regulus' eyebrows raised slightly, as if unbelieving of her claim. "of course you can."
"you have nice eyes."
if he had been affected by her words, he did not show it. "that's merely superficial."
"well, you're a secretive little fucker, how am i supposed to compliment what i don't know?" ophelia inquired, before her brow furrowed slightly. "i suppose i'll find something, eventually."
regulus snorted lightly, causing her to give him another light flick on the wrist, which she judged to be too harsh of a motion, apologetically wrapping her fingers around his wrist and curling them against the back of his hand. the heir was silent for a moment, seemingly lost in flushed thought as his eyes lingered on where their skin came in contact. "...i suppose you will."
"you have nice hands." ophelia offered, holding his pale hand up to the light, causing him to squeeze her fingers in surprise. he settled for a scoff. "still not a proper compliment."
"your hair is gorgeous."
"no."
"your cologne is not unpleasant."
"thank you? but no."
"you have a dashing personality."
that forced a laugh out of him, it seemed. "now you're just being patronizing, potter."
"yeah, fair enough, mate." ophelia mused, her words slurring slightly as she mumbled herself into thought. what really was there to say to him? the best thing she could really formulate, was that she didn't think he was a complete tart of a person– which was higher praise than he could've known. "well, i like the way you say things."
"do you?" he shifted slightly to regard her, probably looking at her face-on for the first time that evening. "that's a peculiar thing to tell someone."
"is it? i don't think it is." ophelia pointed out, causing him to roll his eyes at her, though his cheeks had flushed slightly from the alcoholine grasp of the wine and summer heat of the evening. "you have a certain cadence to your words that i feel people would describe as enigmatic."
"now you're simply lying to me."
"i'm not." she laughed, tugging his hand back into her lazy grip when he tried to move it away. she didn't exactly care if her palms were laced with the humidity of the night, the sway of her vision had her seeking any semblance of stability. for the moment, he was hers till she sobered up to a functional degree. "i promise i'm not."
it was even more trippy to see regulus from such a stark proximity. did he always have those faint freckles over the bridge of his nose? did his brow always furrow slightly downwards when he thought of words to say? having his eyes lingering on her face in such a manner felt judgemental, but she was never one to question such things.
he made a sound in the back of his throat, which could've been a chuckle or a groan of irritation, she wasn't sure anymore.
"it's like me claiming i think you're attractive. there's a lie in there, somewhere." regulus commented, causing her eyebrows to shoot upwards to her hairline.
"fine, a lie may be part of it, i'll humor you."
she then blinked slightly, leaning forward conspiratorially as if to whisper a little secret, the dramatics of which were somewhat lost by the subtle flush that flared under regulus' pale skin, rather viscerally. "so, how much of it is a lie, and how much of it isn't?"
"hmm." he murmured, as if considering her, sizing her up. "i'd say a 3:1 ratio would suffice."
"which is which?"
"that's a secret." he mused, and she was certain she could see a flicker of a grin on his lips. had she seen him smile before? that was debatable.
"oh screw off." she snorted, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle the sound, but her wrist was tugged back down, by regulus' hand on hers, to prevent her from covering the slightly uncontrolled smile on her face. his lips parted slightly to speak.
"may i kiss you?"
alcohol had a habit of loosening the tongue.
ophelia almost thought she had heard him wrong, to be frank. the moment the words had left his lips, he'd glanced up at her hairline, as if wondering who had said them. it would have been humorous if he hadn't been so serious about it.
who was she kidding, it was still humorous. "pardon?"
"christ, don't make me repeat myself." regulus huffed, as she refrained from bursting into laughter, as not to offend him. "you should repeat yourself, black."
"never, potter."
ophelia rolled her eyes, taking initiative as she did on occasion, leaning forward to press her mouth to his. she was drunk, that was it. she was never the type to kiss and tell, nor make a fuss about trivial matters such as her own love life. but with his shockingly pliant lips on hers, his hand fumbling its way to rest his palm flat on her hip, she didn't have much of a complaint. even the sting of wine on his breath didn't bother her.
it was like her mind had gone blank for a moment. ophelia potter was kissing regulus black.
she wasn't sure how long the kiss had lasted, or even when her fingers had made their way through his dark curls, but with one final graze of the nose, the moment was undone. she pulled away from the kiss, eyebrows slightly raised as they stared at each other, wide-eyed on her end, blankly on his. his gaze dropped to her mouth, before he glanced away, clearing his throat as if to prevent any semblance of husk away from ophelia's notice.
"i should go." he stated, standing up off the bench they were sat on with surprising haste, avoiding her gaze. was he embarrassed? regretful? nauseous? she couldn't tell. "night."
and he was off.
ophelia sat there for a moment to mull things over. her head seemed to have cleared slightly, or at least, the pounding that reverberated in her skull along with the guidance of the music had lessened. she had kissed regulus. it hadn't been awful. but she had also kissed sirius' brother. that was weird.
"fucking hell." ophelia murmured aloud, running her fingers through her messy brown hair for a moment, just to gather her train of thought. right, so she was going to swear herself to sobriety for the rest of the summer, that was official.
what was she supposed to be doing? oh.
"martine." ophelia sighed, once she finally located her friend, who had been in a fervent embrace with a random young woman she had never seen before, not really caring if she was interrupting something. "martine." she nudged her shoulder.
wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, martine raised an eyebrow at her interrupter, before grinning when she realized it was just ophelia. "look who it is, my favorite potter. enjoying yourself?"
"yeah, sure," ophelia shrugged, offering her a slight grin, before pushing on, "speaking of potters, have you seen my brother?"
"the tall one is watching them." she replied, raising an eyebrow. "leaving so soon?"
"it's been hours, love." ophelia noted, her voice laced with humor. the darker skinned young woman shrugged, but wrapped her arms around ophelia's shoulders anyways, kissing her cheek. "fine, good night."
"night. don't cause another fire."
"i wont!" martine called after her, but ophelia just snickered.
by the time she had made her way over to remus, he'd already spotted her coming, setting down the bar of chocolate he'd been morosely munching on, eyebrows raised. "have fun, ophelia?" the expression on his face was telltale, and she might've blushed, out of derision.
"oh shut up, remus." she noted, flicking his head with her hand, causing him to bark out a laugh. then, eventually, her attention was turning to the matter at hand; the half conscious, giggly forms of james and sirius, spewing nonsense to one another like two little girls– drunk out of their minds, apparently. "we're going to have to get them home, aren't we."
"yep." remus confirmed, causing ophelia to grimace. maybe she should have drunk more, after all.
"alright, fine, let's go."
thank merlin for 'wingardium leviosa'.
╰┈➤ authors note ; ANYWAYS SO THAT HAPPENED.
i love the lyrics to the song 'sweet talk', especially the lines,
you could yell,
"piss off! won't you stay away?"
it'd still be
sweet talk to my ears.
real. anyways.