both under influences we had our differences[open]

[dominic]

Flourish and Blotts had always been a favourite of Dominic’s. Every visit to Diagon Alley warranted a trip to the bookshop without question. Today was no exception. Moving along the bustling street, the cobblestone beneath his feet weathered and uneven, yet still pleasant to walk upon. Dominic found the ancient pave charming really. Things with culture and history always did intrigue him as silly as that might have seemed to others. He was conscious of those around him sure to accommodate those that were passing him in the opposite direction and allowing females to slip past him making sure that he wasn’t so rude as to bump into them or cause any sort of distress. Still, he was glad to enter the quaint shop.

A small bell jingled overhead when Dominic opened the door, his senses consumed by pleasantries. The scent of books, both musty old volumes bound in coarse leather and freshly printed books the pages still crisp and new with the modernized form of production, was the first thing that he noticed. If he was being honest Dominic liked the old books better. They had a texture, both in their parchment and their binding that seemed more distinguished than the mass-produced copies that the store was rife with. Over all it was a warm, inviting feeling within. Soft music lulled in the background and low voices took part in quiet conversation amongst the stacks, parchment crinkled and there was a soft clicking of a muggle pen at the front desk as a younger employee entertained himself with the aimless, methodical drumming.

Not many were aware of the treasures that lie in the very back of store on the second level. Climbing the steps Dominic weaved his way through the stacks to reach his intended destination. The section wasn’t very big as the item that he was in search of was not the shop’s usual sell. However, after six year of frequenting Flourish and Blotts the owner had taken to collecting a few records that Dominic was sure to purchase. The first time that it had happened was nothing more than an accident. The proprietor had been cleaning out the storage room when they came across a Beethoven record and Dominic had the luck of being there when it was brought to the front for disposal. He had bought it and after learning of his music tastes the owner had promised to keep an eye out and hold any that came across the store for Dominic.

While he also planned to purchase a book or two as well, the records were his first stop. There were only two collected though. Paganini and Liszt, but both were artists that Dominic was found of. It was his good fortune that phonograph workings were not hindered by the immense amount of magic within Hogwarts, so he was able to listen while at school. Dominic’s musical taste, most his tastes in fact, did not agree with his dorm mates and although he did try to indulge in his pleasures when they weren’t around it couldn’t be put off all the time just for their sake. Besides, they all could use a bit of class in their lives. Stepping out of the area Dominic went in search of a book that suited his fancy as well. His attention, however, was quickly snagged by a figure in his path. Dominic cleared his throat politely, "Pardon me."

[payton]

Payton pulled off her skirt, wearing just a leotard, tights, and some dance shoes. Sitting on her bed, she pulled the bow in the ribbon that was wound around her thing legs, causing it to ripple and fall to the ground. She reached lower to pull the pink ballet shoes off her feet, flexing her toes, which were crooked from years of dance. She removed the tights and slipped into a pair of boot cut jeans, with a grey strapless shirt, which held a bow just below the bust line. She smoothed both down over her body, a bit self conscious about herself. After years old being told that she wasn't small enough or good enough for the role as the swan princess, she'd formed a habit, a mental illness.

Pushing the thought from her mind, Payton slid her feet into some tall tan colored boots, and stuck her wand inside the right leg. She pulled her hair down from the tight bun it had just been in and let her hip length golden locks fall down over her shoulder. She ran a hand through it, grabbed a jacket, and left. She made her way to the fireplace, exited. Grabbing a hand full of flu powder, she yelled Diagon Alley and the fireplace erupted in flames.

Stepping out of the fireplace across the street from Flourish and Blotts, Payton made her way across the cobble stone and into the bookstore. Besides being a talented dancer, Payton also loved reading. She loved all the different muggle books in here, since she was muggleborn and missed them sometimes. She let her fingers trail along the book spines as she walked along, before plucking one from the stacks. It was a muggle book called To Kill A Mockingbird, one of her favorites. She flipped through it, stopping to read a page in the middle.

Walking along, she didn't pay any attention to where she was going. Lucky for her, there really weren't many people in the shop today. She stopped in the pathway, her eyes scanning the words in the book lightning fast, enjoying the part she was at. She smiled, blonde hair moving to cover her face. At the sound of someone's voice, she looked up, noticing a fellow Hufflepuff standing in front of her, though she didn't know his name. "O-Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stand in the way," she blurted, word vomit coming out. A simple sorry wouldn't just do it, no she would probably keep talking. "I was just so caught up in this book you see, and I didn't realize someone else needed to get by,"[b/] she continued, her cheeks turning scarlet.


outfit

[dominic]

She was a vision; beauty that could easily rival Aphrodite. There was a freshness and kindness about her features that made the blonde all the more magnificent to behold and Dominic, for one, was in complete awe of her. This wasn’t the first time that he had the pleasure of seeing the girl. She was a Hufflepuff like himself and Dominic could count the number of times that he had thought about approaching her. The girl was lovely and it was of interest to him to see if she was as beautiful inside as she was outwardly. He smiled tenderly at her patiently waiting for her to quiet her rambling. Her nervous speech was rather charming giving Dominic a good first impression of her. One that made him think that she was the humble sort, perhaps sweet and caring as well as she seemed awful flustered that she was in his path.

“It is quite all right.” Dominic assured her in a soothing voice in the hopes that if he seemed calm then she might not be so anxious around him. He hated to think that he intimidated such a lovely and delicate creature as herself, if that was in fact the case here. He switched the records from one hand to the other to be in the better position to shake hands when the occasion arose. Glancing down at her book first, the one that seemed to allow her to get so caught up, Dominic was a bit impressed. “To Kill A Mockingbird;” He read lightly. “I can see why you were so enthralled. Harper Lee had a superb way of capturing the readings attention despite the message within being so profound it is an easy read. The complexities of good and evil and teachings of moral value through such an innocent view as young Scout are intriguing. Whenever I read that particular book I’m always reminded of the purity of youth. To see things in black and white and know in the most naïve of ways the difference between right and wrong makes me quite nostalgic.”

Hopefully the rouge in her cheeks would mellow with his understanding. Deciding that the next order of business was a proper introduction he offered his hand. “I’m Dominic Whittington. Forgive me, but I don’t believe we have ever had the pleasure of meeting.” In one swift movement Dominic had successfully introduced himself and offered a suitable topic of conversation, at least he believed it to be so. He always tried to be a good conversationalist and keep things progressing. Sometimes moments of silences were necessary, even wanted, but for the most part Dominic made it a goal of his never to let any interaction slip into a lulling period. That could quickly turn to awkwardness and he had been raised to be accommodating to others as well as amiable company.

[payton]

Payton curled some hair behind her ear, nervously shifting her weight between her legs. He just smiled as her during her rambling. Maybe he thought it was funny? She blushed a little more, a small smile playing on her lips. But as soon as he opened her mouth and talked all about her favorite book, the girl got goosebumps. She couldn't believe that another wizard knew about this book!

She was practically swooning. "My favorite thing about the book is the underlying message. That the innocence of childhood can shield children from what really goes on in the world, and that simple things in life, like a summer full of memories can be the simplest treasure of life," she said, breathless. "I didn't think other Wizards would know about Harper Lee," she whispered. She was almost bouncing on her toes right now. The door swung open across the shop, blowing a cool breeze in. She hugged his jacket closer around herself and beamed up at him.

She nodded her head, agreeing with everything he said. He was so smart! She was still awe struck that he knew what To Kill A Mockingbird was. Maybe he was muggleborn as well? Or half blood? Who knew. When he introduced himself, she finally put a face to name. She put out her small hand and smiled. "I'm Payton Parker, and I don't believe we have, until now," she added. Honestly, she was kind of glad that they had met. He was gorgeous. Very handsome.

"How is it that you know of To Kill A Mockingbird?" she asked, wondering. Payton's father had read it to her growing up every night before bed. Not soon after they'd read it three times, he'd bought her her own copy. But it had been lost this past summer during the move to a new house. So she was here, hoping to find another one to buy. She was surprised that Flourish and Blotts had so many muggle books. She noticed some others, like 1954, her least favorite book. There were books on cars, and poetry, books about animals and how to screw in a light bulb. She smiled at that one, knowing that wizards didn't know how to do stuff like that.

"I know of Harper Lee because my father read this book to me every night when I was little." She jiggled her foot, her wand knocking quietly back and forth inside its new home. She smiled up at him again. One could just get lost in his eyes, which she believed were the gateway to ones soul. In his eyes she could see intelligence and passion, mostly for books and reading, the same as herself. Payton folded her hands in front of her. She hoped that there wasn't some sort of awkward silence, because that would make her feel like walking away to avoid it, or maybe spouting some random fact to break the tension and silence.

[dominic]

The blissfulness of naivety seemed to be a neglected message in most novels. Dominic nodded pensively in utter agreement with what the blond was saying to him. Appreciation of the simpler things was something that he himself tried to strive for but Dominic was just as materialistic as the next person, he allowed himself to be humble about his superiority, as his grandparents had been so very adamant about him being. They were good people of course, but socialites, which meant they held themselves at a higher standard. Dominic had been raised by them for a good portion of his life so it was no wonder that there was some transference. Still, her words did strike a chord of recognition and admiration with him. He did find it an awful shame that more Wizards weren’t aware of such a profound book. He hand nearly came out to offer her extra warmth when the wind stirred within the shop, but stopped short not wanting to be too forward with her.

“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance Miss Parker.” Dominic brought her hand up to his lips, kissing the top of it tenderly, albeit chaste nature. With the interaction going so well thus far he now really was cursing himself for not having spoken to Payton sooner. She had a quality about her that he was very attracted to. A breath of fresh air on a spring morning, filled with sunshine and cheerfulness. He had a feeling that Payton was the type of person that it would be impossible to be down around as she lit up the room seeming emit such warmth for her person. It was a rarity in a person. Gently Dominic let go of her hand giving his head a respectful bow to her, and then smiled again.

“My grandparents felt that I should have knowledge of the classics.” Dominic informed. It was hardly as sweet as being read to at night. His grandparents had an aversion to that sort of affection. Emotions were very sparse and any ungentlemanly conduct was always punished with some tedious task, such as translating Dante’s Inferno into Latin. It was a constant chore to better himself. Despite having, at the time, felt a little put out, Dominic was rather thankful for his upbringing. It allowed him to converse with people better if he had a wider range of knowledge. If it hadn’t been for them he wouldn’t have been able to strike up a conversation with Payton so easily. “That sounds lovely. What other sorts of books did he read to you?” Dom inquired/

[payton]

Payton smiled, flashing her white teeth at Dominic. He was a cutey, she wasn't about to lie about that. She loved how smart and educated he was. He clearly was brought up to be a gentlemen. A blush crept to her cheeks as he raised her hand to his lips, softly kissing the back of it. As soon as he let it go, she used it to tuck some more hair behind an ear. He then bowed, and she knew she was in the presence of a true charmer. It was quite refreshing to be in the presence of one, since most guys were out for sex these days. And Payton wasn't interested in that, she was interested in romance.

He mentioned it was his grandparents who'd brought him up this cultured, but left it there. Clearly he wasn't willing to talk about it right now, so she pressed on, answering his questions. "Oh, he also read me Howard's End, which is another of my favorites. Soon after I turned seven though, we stopped reading before bed," she added, thinking back to when she was younger. They'd stopped reading before bed because she'd become so caught up in dancing, that she was so exhausted she'd just fall right asleep. But her and her father shared a bond still, neither forgetting those nights.

She shifted her weight around on her feet again. Payton didn't like to stand still for too long. Placing the book back on a shelf, her fingers caressed the spine as she let it go. Tucking her fingers in her pockets, she looked around. Not many more people in here than before really. Looking back up at Dom, Payton smiled. "Would you like to get a coffee, or a tea perhaps?" she asked, inviting him to get a drink with her. She loved coffee, probably because when she was little, her mother had given her a sip. The curious girl had been hooked ever since. But nothing was better than a hot tea, and boy did these English people know how to tea it up!

Coming from the United States, Payton was somewhat of an.... odd man out, so to say. She sounded different, coming from Tennessee, so she had a thick southern accent. She was used to warm sunny weather, not cold drizzly weather. But living in Europe since she was ten helped her out with the climate change, and she felt like she was pretty well accustomed to the weather now. Although, she wished she'd brought a scarf, which she'd never worn until moving to France.

[dominic]

”A fine choice.” Dominic granted. He supposed that his grandparents were a lot like the Wilcoxes, at the very least in regards to social class. Both grandparents were aristocrats, his grandfather owning a rather lucrative airline while his grandmother kept herself busy as a socialite, taking part in numerous charity events and volunteer work that was meant to make the Whittington family seem more humble than they, perhaps, were. The point being, his grandparents were rich capitalists. “My favourite growing up was always Fahrenheit 451.” When Dominic had first read it at the tender age of eight the concept had seemed laughable. Burning books was such a foreign concept to him, as he cherished books so dearly, how could any future be worth-while without books to read. But technology was vast, all information, for muggles could be found on the Internet, books would electronic put onto devices, and bookstores were hardly as popular as they once had been. That said more about advancement of technology than it did of government restrictions. It wasn’t until later that Dominic had discovered the message behind it. “There is something immensely appealing about viewing ignorance, perhaps it can be enough to prevent one from being ignorant, in fact. The censorship of books seemed to have crippled the characters in Bradbury’s novel, those that lack the imagination that books can enhance fall into a state of control. Funny how something as simple as reading can give people greater freedom of thought.”

Her offer to go get something to drink was acceptable, and Dominic did accept. “That would be nice, thank you.” Dominic was chiefly English when it came to the choice between coffee and tea. He wasn’t much for coffee, assumed that it was an acquired taste. “Perhaps some Assam black tea would suit your fancy.” It was close enough, or rather strong enough, not match a cup of coffee. “There is a quaint tea shop not too far from here, in London, if you don’t mind taking a short stroll with me first.” Payton had put back her book though. She must have come to purchase something, did she not? His gaze averted from Payton to scan the many books that lined the wall. If she didn’t want To Kill A Mockingbird perhaps he could offer her an alternative.

His love for poetry was a great influence on Dominic’s choice as he gently plucked an older leather bound book from the shelf. The texture of the maroon binding was smooth, elegant and flourished designs adorned the cover and Dom turned it over in his hand to properly offer it to Payton. It wasn’t particularly large, nor thick, but the words that were written within held the weight of profound insight and beauty. “But a bird that stalks down his narrow cage can seldom see through his bars of rage, his wings are clipped and his feet are tied so he opens his throat to sing. Maya Angelou, her complete works. You could read it each night before bed and fill your dreams with empowerment and purpose.” Dominic extended the book to Payton. He had listened to old recordings of Maya Angelou reciting her poems and the old woman’s voice had chilled him, the messages that were within her poems struck his heart and he could feel how important they were not only to Miss Angelou but also to society as a whole. Every time he read a poem of her’s that soulful voice would echo in his mind, as it did when he had recited that verse from I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings had.

[payton]

Payton smiled. In truth she had come here to browse the selection, and to see if anything peaked her curiosity. She had been so lost in To Kill a Mockingbird, that she hadn't paid attention and wandered into an intelligent young man, and therefore had not continued to browse the selection at hand. Her hand still tingled from when he'd kissed the top of it, chivalry oozing from him. He accepted her offer to get something to drink, so she turned to walk from the store.

But he reached for another book, so she turned back, her hair shifting to slide across her back. She looked at the old leather cover, happy to see what he'd brought her. Maya Angelou! "I am a woman, phenomenally," she said happily. Payton willingly took the book from his hands. She idly flipped through it, finding the poem he was quoting. It was her second favorite by Maya. Her favorite was the Phenomenal Woman poem, as it talked of women being empowered and strong, about women being proud of who they were.

Her thing fingers played with the old leather, enjoying the way it felt. It was soft, the intricate designs dancing beneath her touch. She smiled. "My dreams will certainly be filled with purpose," she said back, her eyes lighting up. She pulled a few coins from her pocket and made her way to the front of the store to buy the book. "And thank you Dominic, for picking out this book. She is one of my favorites." She dipped her head in thanks. Maybe a cutesy would have been appropriate if she were back in Tennessee. But she wasn't, she was in England.

So as she paid for the book, she turned her head back over her shoulder, still smiling. He was so thoughtful to have picked out this book for her. Clearly they had a love of literature in common. Maybe they had other things in common as well? Well, they would find out over tea. Speaking of tea, she wasn't exactly fluent in the types, so she just nodded her head when he mentioned one particular flavor. She walked triumphantly back to Dominic, murmuring, "But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams, his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream, his wings are clipped and his feet are tied, so he opens his throat to sing." She blushed just then, realizing that that particular line in the poem reminded her of herself.

She was a dancer. She had dreams of dancing in the Swan Lake production. And yet, she had not. It really felt as if her wings were clipped, her feet were tied. She was repeatedly turned down, for not being good enough, not being thin enough, or worse, not wanting it enough. Payton had danced for over a decade and she was charged with not caring enough. She truly felt like the caged bird in the poem when she danced, longing to be let out, to let others see what she could do. But alas, she stayed in her cage, dancing back up to the Swan Princess...

Coming back to herself in reality, she noticed she was tip-toing. She blushed again. He mentioned that she would need to take a walk with him first, before they could go to the tea shop. So she figured, hey, what the heck, and nodded her head yes, extending her elbow. She was quite a friendly girl, so she didn't think that this would be too forward. But she wouldn't know if it was flirting. She couldn't flirt to saver her life. She did see that sometimes when girls extended their elbow for a male, it invited all sorts of things like hand holding, and cuddling... So she thought better about it for a second, thinking that maaayyyyybe it wasn't such a good idea after. But as to not be rude, she let it hang at her side, just in case he decided to hook his own arm through it. In her free hand, she held the newly purchased book to her chest, excited. The smell of the old leather comforted her.

[dominic]

”My pleasure.” He retorted. With the two records in his possession Dominic figured that it wasn’t a necessity to purchase a book that day. There were dozens to choose from in his room that he enjoyed revisiting on numerous occasions. Wilkie Collins’ The Woman in White, for example, seemed like a good book to brush up on. That sort of novel was more geared toward his mannerisms than a lot of the books out there. Walter Hartright was a bit of an inspiration to many of Dominic’s gestures, modest and gentlemanlike. “She has been one of my favourites since I was a boy, as well.” It was a commonality in which Dominic wouldn’t soon forget. The more that he spoke with Payton the more he was attracted to her. First impressions were of the utmost importance to him. It said a lot about a person’s character. Regardless of what sort of mood you were in, he felt and had been taught to believe so, that you were always to be on your best behaviour when meeting someone new. One must be high in good-humour to be amiable for those around them.

He followed her over to the registers offering the elderly woman behind the one he approached a friendly smile. Dominic knew her on a first name basis and she him. He always made it a point to carry on a conversation with the woman; Mildred was her name, to keep a good rapport with the employees of Flourish and Blotts. Today, however, it was rather concise, not wanting to keeping Payton waiting while he exchanged pleasantries. Such things as how he had been were shortened considerably, albeit apologetically, and Dominic, to prevent Mildred from thinking that he no longer enjoyed their conversations, willingly explained, in a conspiratorial tone, his reason for being so brief with her. Approval was the very first thing that Dominic received. A hushed comment of how pretty Payton was and a wink before his records were handed over to him in a bag. With thanks, Dominic headed over to the door to wait for Payton.

Greeting with the following passage from I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, a smile crossed his lips. A blush from her was a rather flattering thing, one that Dominic, despite his attempts to be humble, found himself relishing in. “Quite right you are.” She spoke the words as though she was reading them straight out of the book, and might he add, in a fetching accent. Having his attention so attentive to Payton he couldn’t help but notice the way that she seemed to dance in place. “Forgive me if I am being too bold, but, by chance, are you a dancer of some sort?” Dominic had seen such actions as that in ballet dancers as they were warming up back stage. He had dated a young lady when he was fifteen, over the summer, who was in a production of Giselle, though not the prima ballerina, she had been magnificent in her role. The ballet had nearly made him weep it was so moving. The amount of restraint it had taken to steel himself had been massive, but no more than a single teardrop had fallen down his cheek. Payton had offered her arm to him, something that he would have much preferred to do for her, being the gentleman and all, but he took it graciously, hook her arm lightly in the crook of his. He made certain that he was on her left, a tradition that probably seemed silly to most, before opening the door and stepping to the side to allow Payton to exit first. These were such little things, trifles in the majority of people’s opinion, but Dominic was meticulous about sticking to them. When one standard fell it was more likely that other, more important ones, were soon to follow.

[payton]

Payton patiently waited for Dominic to finish paying for his records. He conversed lowly with the elderly woman at the counter, and when the woman smiled and winked at Dom, she couldn't help but feel that she was speaking about her. She held back a blush, but let a shy smile onto her lips. So she quietly stepped away from the counter, trying to give them a bit more privacy. Seconds later though, Dom came back to her side.

Before he linked elbows with her. he questioned her dancing. She looked up at him, surprised that he knew what it was. She nodded her head, "Yes, I'm a ballet dancer. It's why I moved from the United States to France when I was ten," she said sweetly. She crinkled her toes in her shoes, enjoying the feeling of her toes popping quietly in her boots. They usually got cramped a bit after a lesson, and she hadn't cracked them yet. The pressure oozed out of her feet and she gave an audible sigh. Clutching the book with one hand, she tingled when his own arm slipped through hers, and together they walked from the book store. Outside the sun was shining brightly, the breeze tossing around pieces of parchment and leaves.

People everywhere were hustling about, getting different supplies they needed. It was such a lovely November day! A cold breeze drifted around them, tossing a mess of leaves up in a cyclone around their forms. She inadvertently huddled closer to Dominic, the wind pulling her hair about her face. Very un-pretty, to put it bluntly. She grabbed her wand, waved it in the air, and the wind died instantly, leaving leaves all through her hair and her face pink from the sting of it. She looked up at Dom and laughed, tossing back her head. What a crazy thing that had just happened to them!

She stashed her wand back in her boot and began picking bits and pieces of leaves from her hair, the book sitting on a table nearby. Payton removed just about all of it, pulling a stem of a leaf from the ends of her hair. She grabbed her book and kept walking. "Yes, I'm a dancer, as I said. I've been told I'm one of the best. But such talk has never been rewarded with anything but background dancers, as we call them at the studio. And I've tried so hard. It's why I feel like the bird in the cage. So pretty, yet not allowed to fly," she murmured. Then she blushed. Payton realized that she'd started out talking to Dominic, just as casual conversation. But by the end of the rant, she was revealing deeper thoughts that nobody had ever heard before.

She scuffed her feet, trying to ease the tension she felt from her burst of sadness. She tucked some hair behind her ear, anxious to be at the tea shop. "So Dominic, where is this tea shop? I've not really had a taste for tea yet, even though I've lived here for about six years. My family is so used to coffee!" Payton laughed. She was glad to be out of her lesson for once. Being with Dom made it easier to relax it seemed. Especially since they shared a common interest: literature. She still had her arm hooked with his, their bodies lending heat to each other on the breezy day.

[dominic]

Dominic nodded sagely. “You have that air about you. Ballet takes such grace and precision. The way you move is quite elegant.” He could picture Payton dancing, so light on her feet, tiptoeing the moves of the Sugar Plum Princess or even Giselle. It brought a small, satisfactory smile to his lips. So she had been dancing for six years, at least, Payton must have quite a bit of talent. He wondered if she was in any ballet company or if she was independent. Whatever the case Dominic did wish to watch her in at least one of the productions that she was in, if, in fact, Payton did that sort of thing. It would have to be over the summer surely.

As Payton got closer to him to shield herself from the wind his arm came around her protectively in an attempt to help with it. He was muggleborn himself so when it came to such things as nature he tried to avoid altering them with magic. His preference and Payton’s seemed to differ seeing as she had taken the liberty of putting an end to the wind. Seeing the leaves that had gathered in her hair Dominic reached over with his other hand to carefully help her pluck them from those golden locks of hers laughing softly along with her.

One of his internal questions had just been answered, unbeknownst to Payton. “Perhaps you haven’t yet found the perfect role for you.” Dominic suggested. It was the only reason that he could think of that, if Payton was one of the best, she hadn’t yet progressed from a background dancer. “I would definitely recommend that you continue to pour your heart and soul into your dancing though. I knew a girl not too long ago. She danced ballet and she told me that her love of dance was something that was meant to fill her with self-appreciation. If you dance for yourself, you are more likely to get those coveted roles. It shouldn’t be for a gain of ranking in the performance but self-improvement. But I know very little about ballet so it is just hearsay.” It could have been that all Payton’s focus for an end result was what was keeping her from getting what she wanted. If she focused instead on feeling the music it could be a different story.

“It is just around this corner here.” He gestured toward the block that they were coming upon. “You’re a Southerner, correct. I’m not very good with accents but somewhere around Kentucky? Surely you’ve had Iced Tea on the swing porch or something of the sort?” Wasn’t that big with American Southerners? Perhaps that was nothing more than an unsound stereotype. Besides that Payton had mentioned that she had moved to France at the age of ten and they were the expresso type. “What brought you to the United Kingdom after France?” From what he understood all Hogwarts students lived in the Untied Kingdom or Ireland. She didn’t still live in France, did she?

Coming to the door, Dominic opened it stepped aside for Payton to enter first. The aroma of various teas filled the air. He could detect scents of ginger, lemon, honey, and berries the strongest. It was a small place with floral wallpaper in muted tones, wicker furniture and most of the lighting was natural streaming in through the shops glass front. To him it had a very earthy feel to it. A short woman with mousy hair, tight in a bun, a pale pink apron tied over her paisley dress, and deep brown eyes that were almost too large for her face to give off a pure look of youthful innocence despite her being a middle aged lady. A smile adorned her lips as she greeted them both asking if it was a table for two that they desired, which Dominic nodded in confirmation to.

[payton]

Payton's cheeks warmed when Dom's arms enveloped around her to protect her from the wind. How charming, nobody had even done that for her. The blush was gone, however, when he let go. He kindly helped her pick some leaves and twigs from her hair, then they continued to walk along. He mentioned that she seemed like the dancer type, which made her wonder. Besides how she walked, she wondered what else gave it away. But she smiled, sort of glad that he'd figured it out. Sometimes she would keep it a secret, since most Wizards didn't really care about dancing. It wasn't something that they even cared to think about, since it was really a muggle thing.

She walked elbow in elbow with him, listening to him talk. He was a genius really, a walking psychiatrist. He explained to her everything that she'd been thinking without realizing it. She agreed completely. If she would just start dancing for herself, and not her company, then she would be better. It would be like dancing from her soul, not from her mind. Everyday in class, it seemed like she was always spinning and twirling, leaping and tip toeing, trying to over think it and do it perfect, when in reality she should be just dancing. Just dancing. That's what she needed to do. Over thinking was what was making her always in last place. She needed to dance with her heart. Looking up at Dominic, she smiled. "You're absolutely right. I need to dance with my head, not my heart."

They entered the little tea shop, and Payton giggled at his comment about front porch swings. "Well, we did have a porch swing back in Tennessee," she said, smiling up at him. "And sweet tea is the most heavenly drink on the planet, if you ask me. Moving to France we learned of other drinks you can have, like those cappacino things, or frappacinnos, whatever those are. I dance in France you see, but we live in England now. During the summers I stay in France to dance in my company, then come back to England and go to school." She smiled at the waitress and took a seat, setting her newly purchased book on the table.

She smiled up at the waitress, who was waiting for their order. In all honesty, Payton didn't know what to order. She wasn't used to ordering teas and coffees. The sweet aroma in the building was soothing, and she found her mind at peace for once. There weren't thoughts running through it, constantly thinking about dance. She looked hesitantly at Dom then back at the waitress. "I think I'll just have whatever he had," Payton said, smiling. After all, Dominic was the Englishmen here, he would order something proper.

[dominic]

Her brief account was charming really. It seemed as though Payton had her life wrapped up in a pretty little box and adorned with a bow. His grandparents had always said that such a life was what all people should strive for. Dominic didn’t doubt it. From what he had seen of Payton she was a generally happy young lady, that surely had some contributing factor to the neatness of her life, did it not? Dancing in France during the summers and back to England in the fall. Payton wasn’t more than seventeen and already she was doing what she loved with her life, had been since she was ten in fact. It led Dominic to wonder what it was that he wanted to do with himself. His grandfather expected him to take over the airline, but he wasn’t positive that it was what he wanted to do with himself. Couldn’t his talents be put to a better use? Perhaps something that would benefit humanity rather than sitting up in some high tower looking down on the people who were working beneath him?

He liked to think of himself as personable. The Ministry could always use more people like that, someone that could be sympathetic and kind towards those that they dealt with. Public relations seemed like something that would suit him well. His mind went off into this tangent as they made their way to the table following after the petite woman. Dominic had been in here before, numerous times in fact, so his face was familiar to the woman, though he didn’t have as well a rapport with her as he did with Mildred, the woman in Flourish and Blotts. Still, Dominic did like to keep a respectable standing with all those that he came in contact with.

Dominic pulled out Payton’s chair and only once she was seated did he round the table to his own chair and sit. Propping the records that he had purchased against the table’s leg Dominic turned his attention to the woman, who looked on between the both of them expectantly. He wasn’t so chauvinistic to think that it was acceptable to order for Payton without her permission. “Black Assam tea if you would be so kind, sugar on the side as well.” He ordered. It came in one of their lovely china teapots, typically a floral design, and since there were two of them, two matching teacups of the same porcelain. Considering Payton had mentioned frappacinos he figured it best to order sugar for her to add to her liking. Dominic preferred it straight.

Watching the woman hustle away to put in their order Dominic looked back to Payton, smiling. “What productions have you been in over your ballet career?” It was time to pick the conversation back up. With all interruptions put on hold for the time being it would have been easy for them to slip into silence, but that wasn’t in Dominic’s nature.

[payton]

Payton nodded her head, appreciating Dominic knowing what to order. She didn't go to these kinds of places very often. Usually she just had some sweet tea at home with her parents, but this was comforting. It was so casual in here that she felt right at home. The mousy haired woman nodded, smiled, and then walked away with their order. She folded her hands in her lap and stared across the table at Dom. He was really handsome, and smart! She loved that she could have conversation with a guy for once, instead of always talking about different lifts and dance patterns they could dance together. Or talking about Quidditch....

Payton was very impressed that he'd pulled her chair out for her, just as she was sitting down. It was very old timey, and it made her smile. He was always surprising her. Well, for the short amount of time that she'd known him that is. She tapped a foot underneath the table, barely audible over the whispers of others in the cafe. The woman returned with a small pot of tea, two cups, and two saucers. She kindly thanked the woman. The tea pot was cute, and intricately detailed with flowers and ivy. It even moved along the pot, making it look like it was floating in the breeze. She lifted the tea pot and poured a warm cup of tea for the both of them, serving first Dominic then herself. After setting it down, he picked the conversation back up, having felt that it was time enough for them to be alone in their thoughts.

He'd just inquired about the shows she'd been in. Well there weren't really that many. The Nutcracker, she was in that every year. Obviously Swan Lake, as one of the other, less important swans. She was also in A Midsummer Nights Dream a few summers back. She had mostly just been cast as a random dancer in productions, to fill it up. To be the meat of the production. Payton picked up her spoon and added a tiny bit of sugar to the tea, stirring it around while she thought about how to answer him.

"I've danced in many productions, some just originals by different writers. But for more famous productions, I've danced in the Nutcracker, A Midsummer Night's Dream, and obviously Swan Lake." She smiled and took a sip of the tea. It was amazing. It was a black tea, at least she thought it was. She wasn't an expert. But it was just sweetened enough for her taste, and she sipped at it again. It soothed her throat, and seemed to release the tension from her aching legs.

"Have you ever been to the ballet Dominic," she inquired. She assumed that since he was so smart and educated, that he'd have to have seen at least one ballet in his lifetime. While she waited for his response, she noticed a plate full of baked goods on the counter, and turned her gaze away. Quietly her stomach rumbled, and she subconsciously moved a hand to rest on it, quieting it down. She hadn't eaten all day, but this tea would satisfy her needs. Maybe later she would have something else. But now was the time for tea.

[dominic]

He had never had the pleasure to see A Mudsummer Night’s Dream performed, which now that Dominic thought about it was a bit odd. The loved the Shakespeare work so it being translated into a ballet did seem like something he should have caught a performance of at some point in his life. Because his grandfather had refused to go to the ballets and operas with his grandmother it fell upon Dominic to accompany Annabelle Whittington to such events. In his youth he had, at first found it a tiresome obligation. There were other things that he could have been doing, such as indulging in a game of soccer with a few of the young chaps in the village not too far from the Whittington estate. Getting all dressed up in a tuxedo, sparing no tradition as he even had to go so far as to where those constraining kid gloves, the type that were cut so that only half of his palms were covered. Bowing and making all the other necessary gentlemanly gestures towards a crowd of his grandmother’s peers who were much older than he was, shaking hands with the men and giving each lady that he was presented to a delicate kiss upon her hand, made him feel as though his grandmother was using him as a centerpiece for conversation. That was, in fact, precisely the case too. He had never complained though. Dominic had understood his role in society since cognitive thought was accessible to him.

It was to his great fortune that it turned out that these social outings with his grandmother were worth-while to him. He had always been a connoisseur of beauty. Dominic not only appreciated it, but also went so far as to take the time to seek beauty out, even in the most unlikely of places. He was immensely cultured. “Indeed I have. I started attending many a production at a young age in fact. The first, I remember it quite distinctly, was when I was seven. Don Quixote. I suppose it spoke to me on that fantastical childish notion. What little boy wouldn’t be attracted to the idea of chivalry and the slaying of mythical beasts? It was quite fun to watch, which at the time I had turned my nose up at under the sadly mistaken impression that ballet was stuffy and would put me to sleep in a matter of moments.” Dominic picked his teacup up sipping from it carefully, with a practiced skill that had been learned from years of drinking piping hot tea without scolding his mouth.

After a respectable pause he continued hoping that he didn’t come across as too longwinded. But when Dominic was asked a question he was always willing, and found it necessary, to answer it thoroughly so that he didn’t leave his companion wanting. “It was my favourite through out my boyhood, but this past year I found a new love in Giselle. The girl that I mentioned previously who told me that it was best to dance for the pure love of it, when I watched her in it, though mind you she wasn’t the prima ballerina, it simply struck me.” Dominic found himself leaning across the table slightly as his voice dropped. Whenever he spoke of anything that he was passionate about this seemed to happen. Someone had mentioned it to him that it was almost as though he were speaking of a lover, the way that each word was as smooth as silk, such sleek texture that you felt as though you could almost reach out and caress them.

“The grace and poise of Giselle stirs within you a sense of longing. It is the youthful folly and tender adoration that can incite heartache in even the most wicked of men’s hearts.” Then there was of course the ballerina that was cast as Giselle. To land such a role required technique of nothing short of perfection, grace beyond measure, and a dramatic flair. Dominic had found at the end of every Giselle performance that he had seen, which was thrice now, that tears had formed in his eyes, a few even managing to trickle down his cheeks. “Such beauty as to make the most steely of men shed tears. I may not be a particularly hard man myself but I have first hand knowledge of such a tremendous fate.” The way in which he was raised was quite clear that men did not cry and yet he had and his grandmother had not so much as given him a look of disapproval, perhaps it was because tears had streamed down her cheeks by the end, making his reaction seem most tame.

[payton]

Payton nodded her head, listening to what Dominic was talking about. Don Quixote, ah yes, she'd seen this one before as well. She'd never danced in it, but she loved to watch it. He was right, the feelings a young boy could get watching his hero dancing around slaying mythical beasts, beasts that he would slay to save the damsel in distress. She sipped her tea again, loving listening to his description of the ballets he went to. He had fallen in love with the ballet Gisele? Well she had only been able to see it once, and it had brought her to tears. But she'd never been cast in it, not even to dance behind the main characters. She'd never been that lucky.

"So this girl you met, over the summer, she danced in Gisele? I have only dreamed of doing so. It's so elegant and soft." In her minds inner eye, Pay could see herself dancing to it, her long legs stretching out and carrying her through the air. Underneath the table,her toes danced in the pattern, which she memorized the first time she saw the dance. His voice got all low and husky just then though, causing her to take a step back from her thoughts. He spoke as if to his lover, and it captivated her. She leaned across the table a little, her eyes focused on him. He really knew how to draw in a listener with that voice.

"Indeed, the dance does strike you in the heart. It rouses a passion that can't be easily quelled. I have seen grown men cry when a woman dances Giselle." Her hands stopped fiddling around in her lap, and her feet stopped tapping on the floor. Her complete attention was on Dominic. "You may not be a man made after a hard heart, but you are a man who knows how to find the beauty in all things, and can make things better from there," she said, one hand reaching out to gently lay on his. Payton smiled and looked into his eyes, understandingly. He was a deep man, truly deep, and for that she appreciated his conversation. To ease him, she withdrew her hand and changed the topic of conversation.

"You shall have to come see me dance sometime. On the weekends I dance at a studio in England, to practice, while the Room of Requirement holds all that I need during the week. I've even begun to compose my own dances," she slipped in, not meaning to. She stirred her tea around slowly, watching the brown liquid surging in her cup. Looking around, she saw one couple snogging, and another cuddling on a couch, which made her skin prickle. This was weird, there were so many couples in here! She cleared her throat and looked around a bit nervously. Downing the rest of her tea, she enjoyed how is scalded her throat. Pain made her feel alive, as strange as that was.

"Dominic, you seem like a very cultured person. Besides reading, reciting poetry and watching young women dance, what else do you enjoy?" she asked him. They already has those few things in common, maybe she could learn something else about him.

[dominic]

”Perhaps dream may become reality if you so will it.” Dominic offered. Having never seen Payton dance, and never having claimed to be an expert in dancing technique, there was no possible way that Dominic could actually know this, but he did believe that there was a chance and that was all that he needed to make such an offer as he had. He found that he was prone to supporting the underdogs. It could have simply been his fondness of triumph in the most unlikely of people, it made for a better story usually, and if there was one thing that Dom craved it was a good story- his love for literature and all.

It was true. Dominic had a passion for beauty that few young men his age possessed. In a lot of ways he supposed that he was mature beyond his years. Even so, there were still some things that Dominic thought, and on occasion did, that were precisely what one might expect of a sixteen year-old boy. He gave a sober nod in agreement, not flinching in the slightest as her hand came to rest upon his. He was immeasurably comfortable around women, touching them, being touched by them, emotionally, physically, what have you Dominic had a rather sophisticated reaction to such things.

“I can think of nothing that would please me more than to see you dance, Payton.” He had thought about it already, imagined her body dancing so nimbly to some beautiful composition. She had likened herself to a caged bird and to see her spread her wings to fly would be superb. Taking another taste of his tea he was reminded of doing the very same thing with his mother. She wasn’t around a lot but when she was she never failed to indulge in that particular tradition. Medical school and then her practice in Nottingham had taken up an awful lot of Catherine’s time and then her early death had put the enjoyment of their brief but quality time together short. Rather than it turning him away from drinking tea now, or forming sadness in his expressions, Dominic found himself smiling. She had told him to celebrate the good memories in life rather than dwelling on the ones that caused despair. Dominic made it a point to honour her memory often.

Payton wasn’t wrong, and the question pulled him out of his thoughts to grace her with a charming smile, an extension of the one that had adorned his lips at the thought of his mother. “I enjoy sailing.” It had been something that his father had taught him when he had finally met the man. Leonardo was where he got his good looks from. The Brazilian heartthrob, as his mother would call him. Catherine had been a beautiful woman of course but Dominic looked nothing like her. She was very fair, blonde hair, blue eyes, and skin the colour of porcelain… and Dominic was the typical tall, dark and handsome, though there was very little that was typical about him. Adjusting the glasses on a more comfortable spot on the bridge of his nose he took another sip of his tea. “I also hunt with my grandfather.” Armistead was a big fan of the sport.

[payton]

Payton nodded her head. He was right. Dreams could become a reality if she put her mind to it. She poured herself some more tea. It really was fantastic. She noticed that Dom was slowly sipping his tea, and she blushed, realizing that her silly American ways were kicking in. She was hogging the tea and drinking it like a fool. So with this cup, she decided she would drink it slower. She even went as far as to not add sugar this time!

He looked right at her and said he would love nothing more than to see her dance, and she smiled. A slow blush crept to her cheeks, even though she'd been the one to suggest him watching her. She wasn't trying to promote herself, but she loved dancing, and part of that love was sharing it with other people. She set her hands on the table, her fingers picking at the nail polish that she was wearing. She took a sip of the tea and almost blanched. It was too strong without the sugar. So she took the spoon and dropped a tiny amount in the tea, stirring it around. Sipping it once again, she liked the taste.

When he mentioned sailing, her eyes got big. She'd not once been sailing. In fact, she'd never even been on a boat. Her mother called them the devil, and that they would make her sick. And her mother told her that standing on one put a risk to her ankles, because she could fall and hurt herself. As if she couldn't fall on solid ground and hurt herself. Shrugging out of her jacket, Payton twisted around to drape it over the back of the chair. Turning back to face Dominic, her hair fell over her shoulder, the tips of it licking the table. Folding her hands underneath her chin, she tried to imagine him sailing. On a small boat, at the helm, looking out over a sunset.... He spoke again, pulling her out of her day dream.

He hunted too? Well, that was new to her. She didn't know anyone in Tennessee who hunted. They were all about horses there. Hunting to her was a little barbaric. But she wasn't about to say that to someone. She would eat the meat from an animal, like a deer, or a cow, yes. But she just didn't want to imagine herself on the business end of a gun. It gave her the heebie jeebies. But if he hunted, then good for him. It was just something else she was learning about her new friend. Payton took a sip of tea. "It sounds like you like adventurous activities Dominic. I have never set foot on a boat, nor have I ever been on the business end of a weapon." She smiled, showing that she was merely teasing him, trying to keep up the playful talk they had going on.

"I do like to dance, and since part of dancing is performing, I would love to show you sometime, maybe even introduce you to other dancers, or teach you steps.." The offer lingered in the air, and she took the few seconds of silent thought to lay another hand over her stomach lightly, stifling any hungry belly noises.

[dominic]

Dominic wasn’t too sure about him being all that adventurous. When it came down to it though he would never have the nerve to do something as grandiose as rock climbing or skydiving. But what he did enjoy doing had a certain sense of adventure in itself. Sailing, with the wind kissing your cheeks with a salty sea mist, sun warming your skin as you bath in it, nothing for miles around but you and the busy life under the oceans surface, it was an amazing feeling. So many possibilities and opportunities were afforded to you out on open water. One of which Dominic took great advantage of; peace of mind.

“I never feel quite right holding a gun myself, but it is still enjoyable.” For Dominic it wasn’t about the actual hunting that he enjoyed, but the bonding time that he got to spend with his grandfather. He was a rather busy man and Dominic looked up to him immensely so the short amount of time he could spend with him, it didn’t matter what they did, Dominic liked it. Dominic did always try to get a clean shot so that the animal wouldn’t suffer, but there was always that chance that he wouldn’t shoot as straight as need be.

As a gentleman Dominic had been taught how to dance in his formative years. He could waltz, foxtrot, and tango, but he had always wanted to learn Salsa. His father had offered to teach him one summer but the chance had been passed up compliments of his half-brother getting himself into a bit of trouble. “That is very kind of you.” Dominic mentioned letting his gaze follow the movement of her hand as it traveled down to rest on her stomach. “If you happen to know Salsa I have always wanted to learn.”

Glancing over at the wide array of treats in a glass display near the kitchen area Dominic wondered if perhaps Payton was hungry, either that or perhaps she didn’t feel well. “You know, they have the most delectable raspberry tarts here.” It was an opening statement to give Payton the opportunity to satisfy her potential hunger. “Would you like to try some, or anything they have here?”

[payton]

Blushing, Payton drummed her nails on her thighs. "I'm sorry, but I don't really know the salsa that well. But it would be interesting to learn together. I think of ballroom dancing as an extension of ballet. It's graceful, and takes talent and strength that not everyone has." She smiled, grateful to have met Dominic today. Sure, they shared the same house, the same classes, but she'd never really met him. Just briefly seen him around school. Really her only friend was Shailene, and that's because she was always so busy with things.

Looking up at him, she still couldn't imagine holding a gun being fun. Maybe he just enjoyed the time spent with his grandfather. She decided that was what it was, as it made her feel better. She shook her head politely when he offered her a treat. She would fill up on tea. If she ate something like a raspberry tart, it would ruin her physique and make for a bad rest of the day. She was a closest anorexic, with a craving to be the skinniest, to be the best. It was fed by her mother's desire to live life through her skinnier and prettier daughter. And her dance instructor didn't help her much either.

She politely declined the offer of a treat. It would just be better if she didn't have it. She did however drink some more tea, and took more than a few sips now that it was cooled off. She noticed that her stomach was beginning to abate, and that she was feeling a bit better. Not as dizzy, or light headed. "Maybe sometime we could get together? I know we're in the same classes, so we would have homework in common. We could scratch each others backs on the hard stuff," she said, smiling. Payton stirred her tea around, watching the brown liquid swirling in her cup.

ooc: sorry its short, and not much to work with, im kinda depressed tonight.