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lucy weasley disapproves. (self_righteous) wrote in acttwo,
@ 2010-07-17 15:03:00

Entry tags:

lucy-weasley, roald-landvik

WHO: Lucy and Roald
WHAT: Flying!
WHEN: idk, sometime after the journal entry in which they discussed it
WHERE: Starting at Lucy's house and then...some forest? somewhere?

The fact that Lucy Weasley was putting on mascara to go flying would have tipped off anyone who knew her. Lucy Weasley did not regularly wear mascara or any other cosmetic concoction, and her lack of experience with the stuff would have been evident to anyone who DIDN'T know her. The problem was that she was alone in her house, without the benefit of those people who might have questioned her judgment or offered advice or done anything to prevent her from messing the whole thing up royally.

Though she had tried to convince herself that she was attempting to put on mascara because her eyes were puffy and red and "just looked odd," the truth of the matter was that she had a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach that she hadn't had the last time Roald had taken her flying. Lucy was very, very far from realizing that she had a crush on the blond Norwegian, but it was there, in the deepest recesses of her subconscious. If anyone had brought up the possibility to her at the moment, she would have laughed loudly, claimed that she preferred more sophisticated types, and pronounced that she and Roald were just friends and would never be more than that. It would take a trained eye to notice the slight flush in her cheeks at the mention of his name or the minuscule hint of remorse in her voice as she proclaimed their eternal-friend status. She would write off the quickening of her pulse as embarrassment and nothing more.

But the attempt to make herself up was a red flag. Instead of pulling on whatever rags she might have worn around her friends and family if they were doing something athletic, Lucy had carefully selected a bright crimson v-neck and a pair of mustard-colored shorts. It was not an outfit a girl with any sense of fashion would have selected to impress a boy, but this was Lucy and her options were limited. It had not taken long to throw the clothes on, select a new pair of red sneakers, and brush her hair. It was the mascara that was proving to be the difficult touch.

Hand shaking from awkward inexperience, Lucy painstakingly swiped dark tint on the lashes of her left eye. Her first reaction was that she looked like a hooker, and she tried to wipe some of it off with toilet tissue. This, of course, just smeared the still-wet makeup under her eye, which she then had to wash off. It took about five minutes until she was fully satisfied that the unwanted mascara had disappeared and she was left with the lightest of coats. She raised the wand to repeat the process on her right eye when she heard a knock on the door mid-swipe. The sound made her jump, painting a long black streak on her cheek in the process. Cursing under her breath, she pointed her wand at her face and muttered, "Scourgify!" before rushing down to answer the door. "Hi," she said breathlessly as her heart raced--her eyelashes fluttering, barely a shade darker than before. But no, she didn't have a crush.

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i love your opening post so much that this is totally not going to do it justice

roald
2010-07-24 04:03 am UTC (link)

Three times. Roald had to manually stop himself from whistling three times on the way to Lucy's. He never whistled. Weird.

He was in a particularly cheery mood -- as evidenced by the spontaneous whistling outbursts -- that bright, lovely morning, broom over his shoulder and wind in his hair, although the weather wasn't all to blame for his happiness. Roald hadn't seen Lucy in a while; he'd been busy with his training class (if one could actually call it training) and when he wasn't there he was usually in the apartment with Fish, Katherine and Dorian, probably drinking or playing Apples to Apples or something like that.

And so there he was -- for one, spending time with a missed and dear friend, and for another, actually getting out of the apartment to fly. Yeah, Lucy may have been an unlikely friend, but they seemed to work, occasional fight (and scolding session) notwithstanding. She liked to talk to him, liked to even ask him questions, which was the oddest thing because people didn't usually ask him what he thought, and he was perfectly okay with that because he was an easy-going guy who was good with pretty much anything and didn't have many opinions for the most part. But even more than that: she tended to disapprove of his stunts, of his lack of scholarly ambition, sometimes of his attitude or brazen courage slash stupidity -- and yet still was his friend.

It was a thing that Roald simultaneously loved and completely didn't understand.

Pushing those thoughts out of his mind, he knocked on Lucy's door, grinning at the thought of their plans -- he loved bringing innocent people along on his adventures; he adored introducing them to his way of having fun, seeing the looks on their faces, maybe even opening their minds a little bit. Getting Lucy to fly -- something that she was clearly missing out on in life -- definitely fell into this category.

"Heya," he beamed at her as she opened the door, blinking once to look her up and down before his smile grew wider.

"Wonderful -- shall we be off? I found a really nice place we can go to in the area, I think. I thought we might as well fly there so you're more comfortable by the time we get there." He took a couple steps back and nudged the broom on his shoulder.

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