WHO: Dominique Weasley & Hiro Okamura WHERE: Hiro's apartment. WHEN: Night time. WHAT: Making instant noodles, and being civil. RATING: Not likely to be high. STATUS: Incomplete.
Dominique was anything but thrilled to be here, and she was also anything but thrilled to be civil to people she didn't know. But since she had arrived, she had been nothing but rude to her family and had been almost nice to everyone she didn't know. It came as a slight surprise to her that she had offered to make noodles for a boy she had only spoken to briefly, let alone was now heading to his apartment to do just as much.
Being nowhere close to turning seventeen, yet, Dom couldn't apparate to his apartment to stay off the streets, but nor could she rely on anyone she was staying with to get her there. She didn't want to have anything to do with them at the moment, and she would have rather had a conversation with a mental house elf than trust them to do anything for her. So she was stuck on the bus, continuously asking the driver (which, was probably illegal to do so while he was driving) where they were going, how they were getting there and how long it was going to take. If he had started getting irritated with her constant questioning, he hadn't shown it and almost seemed to appreciate her curiosity.
When the bus stopped off at the closest stop to Hiro's apartment, she got off and walked onto the streets, staring down at her piece of paper containing the address to her destination in her perfect handwriting. The only thing about her studies that was perfect. Sighing, as she adjusted her too-large satchel over her shoulder, she glanced up at the buildings with a small squint, trying to discern one from the other. She hated this place. A man walked past, and she asked him as politely as she could muster if she knew where the place she was going was, but when he shook his head and walked away a cloud of annoyance floated above her head. "Bloody wanker, I'll find it myself then," she muttered angrily, entering a building at random.
Going up flights of stares, not taking any chances with the muggle elevator that the building was provided with, she glanced at her paper again before flicking her blonde fringe off her forehead and looking up at the door she had found herself in front of. Well, it was the right number, whether the right person was in it was the question. Lifting her fist, she knocked softly on the door, and glanced behind her, chewing on her lower lip. She hoped she had the right place.