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Tweak says, "Home is where the heart is"

lisa turpin (turpintine) wrote in eminor_macula,
@ 2008-06-11 23:01:00

Entry tags:

james crotchup, lisa turpin, narrative, oliver wood

Narrative
Who: Lisa Turpin and James Crotchup
When: June 11, 2000
Where: A French restaurant
Status: In progress
Rating: TBD
Summary: Lisa meets James at a restaurant to practice speaking French.

Lisa was not as nervous about seeing James as she had been before. She was positive that nothing would happen, especially after the things she had said to him in her letter. The truth was, Aloysius had hurt her, and no matter what advice James gave her, or how much she knew his opinion didn't matter, he had insulted something she loved more than anything, save for her father. He never even insulted her father- at least not out right. There were the occasional hints and clouded accusations, but never anything out right.

Despite the fact that she was sure James wouldn't want to look at her let alone touch her or kiss her, Lisa dressed up as nicely as she could and apparated close to the restaurant. She would walk the rest of the way, hopefully to clear her mind.

No, Lisa wasn't nervous. She was ashamed. There was no way he could fancy her now, not after that. Maybe it was better that way, she thought bitterly as she came upon the restaurant. Perhaps then she wouldn't feel so pained when he was finished teaching her and, inevitably, left her alone once more, with Aloysius.

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woodatdawn
2008-06-12 03:45 am UTC (link)

Sometimes Oliver wished he could just pop wherever he wanted to go like he'd been able to before his arrest. However, today was not one of those days. If anything, Oliver yearned for a time turner just so that he could delay the journey there, go back and relive and spend endless hours traveling before he saw Lisa. He was certain that it could have taken him a month to go from Scotland to London and it still wouldn't have been a long enough period of time for him to deal with his problems.

He neared the restaurant and stopped, turning to walk in the opposite direction. He couldn't do this. He couldn't see her. She deserved a nice man - not Aloysius, but certainly not him, either. A nice man would praise Lisa's skills as a pianist and certainly wouldn't have fucked his best friend not even an hour after sending Lisa an owl. He'd been so excited, having Emilie home, having his Gram and Katie there. He'd sent a quick note to Lisa to let her know he hadn't forgotten her, in rush an exhilaration written a daring 'Are we fools?' and then before the night was over he'd gone and fucked it all up all around.

He should have never slept with Katie. He should never have agreed to meet Lisa, and here he was nearly two blocks away from the restaurant. He stopped and lit a fag, turning to glance back in the direction he'd come from. He'd have to cancel their sessions. Yes, he thought and turned back to Lisa. He'd go in, have dinner, tell her this would be their last meeting and then thank George kindly for his offer, but decline, take Emilie and disappear amongst the Muggles and never look back. He'd save Katie, Lisa - everyone - from getting hurt by his stupid decisions and everything would be alright.

He stubbed out his fag and brushed a hand through his hair, straightening to look his best imitation of Pureblooded toff as he entered the restaurant. He looked about for the familiar dark head of curls and frowned when he didn't see her. Of course he'd beat her there. He sighed in frustration before giving his name to the maitre d' and letting himself be seated. He sighed and ran a hand over his face, frustrated and resigned.

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turpintine
2008-06-12 04:41 am UTC (link)

Lisa arrived fashionably late. It seemed she suddenly decided it was very ladylike to be fashionably late, or something along the lines of what her mother had taught her, and what she had unfortunately not been able to drown out. She had nothing to blame but her slow pace, her reluctance to finally open the door of the restaurant and see him. She couldn't even blame her heels, which were only little stubs. Before entering the restaurant she took a breath and closed her eyes, wishing there was a way out of this.

She had been telling the truth in her owl to James. If she canceled, it would look bad for the both of them. Her father had gotten the reservations on short notice because the owner owed him a favor. She, nor her family, would probably never be able to show their faces again in that restaurant if she were to cancel. Apparently, the restaurant had reservations months in advance, they would have been lucky to get in in late July. Along with that, she would never hear the end of it from her mother, who particularly liked that restaurant, if not for the food, then for the handsome waiters. Despite those consequences, she was very tempted to turn away and apparate home.

In one last attempt to stall her entrance, she stood aside and smoothed the skirt of her dress, but found that there was no wrinkle to smooth out. With a sigh, she entered, told the maitre d' the correct name, and was guided to her seat. Of course her eyes landed on James. She looked away quickly, positive that their eyes had not met. The maitre d' pulled out her chair. Ashamed, her cheeks darkened in color and she drew her eyes downward, never once glancing at James as she took her seat and situated herself. She hardly said a word, but greeted him, at least as well as civility asked, and quickly seemed to become engrossed in what was on the menu before he could answer her.

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woodatdawn
2008-06-13 02:07 am UTC (link)

Oliver stilled at the very sight of her. He sat up slowly and straightened his tie. He stood when Lisa arrived at his table and frowned at her cold demeanor. God, he'd fucked up. He was sure guilt was written all over his face, as if she could see Katie and what had happened between them on Saturday, written clearly there. He swallowed softly and cleared his throat, trying desperately to get her attention without being rude - then he stopped himself. Why was he trying so hard for her? It wasn't as if he had made a commitment to Lisa; it wasn't as if they were together. Still, even Oliver, oblivious male that he was, knew he was getting into something tricky by getting intimate with two women at once.

"Hello, Lisa," he finally said, very quietly, trying his best to gage her mood and determine the reason for her silence and angry look flush.

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turpintine
2008-06-13 02:34 am UTC (link)

Oh, this was foolish. She knew it was, she knew she was just making things worse. But would it have been terribly fake of her not to be embarrassed? It wouldn't be real if she went on as if nothing had happened.

After a moment she looked up and forced herself to look at his face. She couldn't read his expression, she couldn't determine what he was thinking, and she almost wished she had never looked up, because now she couldn't look away.

"I hope," she began after a moment, and had to clear her throat. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting long. I apparated further than I thought I had."

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woodatdawn
2008-06-13 04:49 am UTC (link)

"No," he said quickly, shaking his head. "I only just arrived myself." He was so bloody torn. He new immediately this was a bad idea. Lisa was still every bit as attractive as she'd been the week before, polite and kind. He was leading her on by being here - and he'd done a hell of a lot more than merely lead Katie on. He sighed and gave the menu a glance. What was he doing here? He couldn't stop asking himself that question. He looked back up at her once more.

"Why did you come?" he blurted, immediately regretting it. He reached out his hand instantly, covering hers with his, hoping to smooth the blow of his hasty words. "What I mean is - why me? Why risk all of this for me?"

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turpintine
2008-06-13 05:52 am UTC (link)

As soon as his hand covered hers, her eyes flew about the room and at the same time, she pulled her hand away from him. She knew it was a horrible thing to do, especially after everything else that had happened, but she had to.

"We can't. They know who I am," she said, trying to apologize for it. She sighed softly, thinking over his question. Honestly, she didn't know. She looked up at him, knowing he was waiting for an answer. What could she say? Finally, she gave him a helpless look. "I don't know. You don't seem like them, like those rich men. You're smart and kind. I enjoy talking to you, you're nice to me." She looked away and down at the table. "You're genuine."

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woodatdawn
2008-06-13 06:07 am UTC (link)

He flinched as she took back her hand, waiting for her to tell him he'd lost his chance. He was surprised at the words she spoke, but he nodded his head in agreement. At least one of them had their head on straight. His eyes darted anxiously over her features as he waited for a response and though he knew he shouldn't feel the way he did, he couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his lips at her words.

"You're genuine, as well. You don't have any preconceived notions about me, and I'll admit, that's refreshing."