strangerdangerwrites - Tumblr blog

strangerdangerwrites · 8 months

Text

im done proof reading it, sorry you had to see the grammar and spelling mistakes...

the art of lies | t.s. (fantastic beasts) - chapter two

Chapter Summary: real partnerships need faux relationships.

Pairings: Theseus Scamander x Fem!Reader

genre: romance, mature audience intended

warnings: mature themes, implied sexual content, sexworker protagonist, pleasure house (brothel), smoking

the art of lies masterlist

YOU CAN TELL A LOT ABOUT A PERSON by the way of their touch.

Is it comforting? Like a mother who eases their child about the bruise on their knees.

Is it skilled? Like the pianist who is adept at playing the key to a composition.

Is it warm? Like the embrace of a friend whom you have not seen in years.

Is it tender? Like the palm of the lover carefully caressing your cheek.

Or is it dominating? Like the hands holding your neck, making you gasp for air while you could only comply.

Every breath you take, clawing at the hands that tighten with every passing minute. Strangling you until all you see are the ceilings painted like the night sky, it would be your deepest desire to be held so gently, not like this. Not like this. Your lungs burning with every passing second, reaching for anything, a small gasp of wind would be enough to suffice. The only thing that registered in your mind was how hard your heart was beating out of your chest. One more tightened grip and it would be your last breath, your feet wriggled right under his grasp, tears welling out of yours. You didn’t even know you could cry.

You didn’t want it to end like this, to be seen unsightly. To lie cold on the white sheets, eyes with a blank glassy stare and tear stains on your cheeks. The tell-tale sign that you were once alive is gone with your last breath. You didn’t want it to end like this… You were a fighter— you were fighting for a semblance of a home, the warmth, and the pure love.

With a gasp, you tapped on the arms that held your neck, trying to push off the undesired touch. You grabbed them harshly, as if your life depended on it, and pushed them off your frame. You sat still and coughed, the air you desperately wished went back to your senses slowly. You were alive. You are alive, Feeling the pulse of your veins right beneath your bruised neck.

The man on the sofa whispered but words fell on deaf ears, he muttered something, and all you could do was hum. Unlike earlier, the rough hands by your neck weren’t like the soft kisses he left on your shoulder, leaving the feeling of ice on your skin.

“I said tell me the truth. Did I hurt you?” He asked, warm breath tickling your skin. Looking right at your shoulder his arms circled your waist as he inhaled your scent.

“You didn’t.” Intense eyes looked right back at you. His once-slicked-back hair was ruffled lying flat on his forehead, he looked at you. Scoping your reaction once more but nodded, nonetheless.

Lies. Lies. Lies. It comes naturally to you, like breathing.

And only one person had caught on to your lies. You take pride in having a knack for the art of deceptiveness, yet when Theseus Scamander looked at you, he knew that you had recognized Charles Moore. Mr. Scamander was far too perceptive and smart for his good, his nobleness would only lead to trouble.

The truth is it wasn’t even in the Amour Délicat that you had first met the missing assistant delegate, his thoughts were loud and clear, unbearable with the thought of your beauty.

‘She’s beautiful.’ The words you have seen a thousand times.

And for the second time, Charles Moore presented himself in front of you, right in front of a jewelry shop, he held a flashy ring that glittered in the sun. You tried to look at your surroundings, to look for the people that accompanied courtesans every time you had to go out for help. But you couldn’t feel or see them, strange.

“Run away with me. I’ll make you the happiest woman on earth.” Charles Moore proposed, kneeling on one knee as a crowd of onlookers looked at the spectacle expecting you to say yes.

“I do not even know you; you must have had the wrong person.” You said as you turned around to walk another block, trying to get away from his hands as he tried to reach you.

“You don’t understand, I am in love with you! You are the woman of my dreams. Why are you running away from me? I am your true love!” Your heart hammered in your chest; you couldn’t risk losing your job by creating a scene in front of the crowd. Madame Blanche kept you her secret, a weapon to investigate secrets and he is risking it by following you.

When you have reached the dark alleys of Paris, streets that looked at you in hunger, you were sent back to a dark time where you had no roof over your head. You have seen life and decay in these very streets. It felt like you were back from where your stomach growled in hunger as you stared at the windows of a bakery begging for a piece of bread. You felt your lungs tightening in your chest like an incarcerous spell had taken hold of your chest, squeezing it until panic littered your veins. Your eyes darted at the crowd, looking for the protection that you desperately craved. Suddenly, multiple people stood in front of you, dressed in shabby clothing. They had followed you, looking at you with disdain asking if you were acquainted with the man earlier, you shook your head no as tears threatened to spill in your eyes, only for them to grab your arms harshly. Every spell of protection flew over your head as your heart still hammered in your chest, stunning stem into their place you ran. The soles of your feet were sore and when you were back to the familiar streets of the red-light district, back to Amour Délicat, you could finally breathe. You stood there for what felt like a lifetime, only to hear the panicked breaths of people who were supposed to protect you.

That is the memory you had shown Theseus, who is now sitting on the sofa with his head propped up on a soft pillow looking at the ceilings while dissecting every memory of the encounter, For someone to force their memory on you it would hurt for the first time. You muttered a healing spell to ease his pain, while he lay on the soft velvet seats, collecting his thoughts.

“I would say that you are quite indeed a great liar, but the first time you looked at me I knew you were lying.” He said with a cheeky grin. Proud that he had seen through your facade of lies. His eyes remained closed, and you frowned.

“What gave it away?”

“Your eyes. My mother said you can see a lot of a person through their eyes, that’s why Hippogriffs only respect you if you look right into their eyes. And you didn’t with me, you covered yours with a smile.” Opening his eyes, he looked right back at you. “And that is your flaw, you’re too good of a liar that lies upon lies is the tell-tale that you are hiding something.”

What a funny thing, you failed to be the greatest deceiver. Now you were only obligated to an oath of truth to Theseus Scamander. You were a mere pawn in this game, all your life you were, and to be presented with a ticket out, you became a feral dog ready to taste the sense of freedom. Your truth is hard to come by because all you knew were lies. And the way he had you right wrapped around his fingers was a sure new record of low for you, what a pity you were. Madame Blanche would sure be ashamed. You and your rotten judgment would lead to your demise; you were certain.

Yet, he vowed for your safety. All that needs to be done is you get information as you’ve always done before. Gather secrets and tell him what he wants, that would be easy. The only obstacle was how you would communicate discreetly, all he needed to do was be within your vicinity for you to use legilimens to him. But, how, he couldn’t simply use his account to buy your time, he significantly declined that idea. His righteous beliefs prevented him from using you for that kind of service, ‘We are working together, you don’t need to think about ways to please me. Your help is fine.’ he says.

Madame Blanche would become too curious, too prying as to why the British auror had come to take you, therefore you settled on an agreement, every time you had to go out, he would trail by the shadows until both of you were all alone he would get the information he wanted.

You would ease into Mr. Scamander’s mind gently, give him the truth that he wanted.

The man that lay on your sofa slowly unwrapped his arms around your waist. It was becoming a common occurrence for you to be lost in thought. Being deep into your head, made you make plans for the imminent future, like what would you or where would you go questions have circled your mind. Daydreaming has now been a habit that distracts you and makes you hope, and having hope is a dangerous thing.

You even forgot it was not Mr. Scamander in the room with you but a regular patron of yours, whose name you were forced to remember since he was a high-paying clientele. Pierre Baudelaire, the next-inline as the Duke of Baudelaire, a part of the royalty of pure-blooded families. And you were nothing but his mistress.

If you squint your eye, you would’ve thought it was the figure of a certain auror, something your mind didn’t expect it to play. Buttoning his suit with ease, Baudelaire acquires an extravagant box in his coat pocket. He kneeled right in front of you and grabbed your hand in his.

“What is this?”

“A gift.”

“I don’t think I can accept—”

“Take it.”

Your hands fiddled with the box unwillingly, his palms pressed to it tightly, not giving you the choice to reject his offer. Nonetheless, you smiled at him not before you grabbed your robe and walked with him as he went to say his goodbyes.

With one last look, he turned around to step in front of you. His deep green eyes stared at you unblinking not before holding your neck, lightly this time. With his thumb, he tilted your head up at him not before giving you a kiss. Closing your eyes and the hold on your neck slowly tightened. The feel of your pulse right beneath his skin, you willed your heart to remain calm, afraid that the repeat earlier would happen again.

The touch of authority is evident in the way he holds your neck, making you want to submit to his desires that are still not satisfied. Back then you would’ve let them, it was your job after all. You would’ve been your ruin, a tool of satisfaction but now you feared. You fantasize about life outside these very caging walls. Back then, you would’ve been fine if your last dying breath was in between the sheets, and the taste of freedom far from your mind. But now it is different.

When the lift doors closed behind him and your clientele for the day had gone, you gave a tired sigh and rested your back among the door frames. Your hand touched your neck feeling the faint bruise slowly starting to burn, by the time you would have looked in the mirror you were sure that it would’ve been dark red. Going back inside the room, other elves started appearing and cleaning the room from the ground up. And at the corner of your eye, Bernadette gave you a comforting smile. A cup of tea in her hand

“I hope I didn’t take long. Bernadette.” Grabbing the warm cup of tea in hand, the crushed leaves provided you with the comfort that you needed. You muttered a ‘thank you’ not before hearing the creaking wall opening behind you. You followed her as both of you walked towards the hidden door in the room, the bricked walled lead you downstairs to the common rooms and large dining hall for every courtesan. Loud chatter and boisterous laughter could be heard echoing on your way down.

As soon as you opened the large lounge where every staff and courtesan lazed around; there they talked about rumors of their own, happenings on the street, and what the client of the day did. Passing by some who flaunted their lover’s gift as they giggled at the thought of love. Not before you get stares of your own; thoughts you could hear loud and clear about how you were the cause of Maeve’s disposal. Not even caring that their voices were loud whispers.

If Maeve didn’t run her tattle tale mouth, then would have still been working here, It was not your fault she grew jealous of your status as the right hand. She did it to herself, you were merely a vessel to her downfall. At first, that former courtesan acted like you were the best of friends, clinging to you to make her status higher but you knew not to make friends; you could hear and see the disdain in her thoughts as soon as she saw you. Thoughts about how undeserving you were, and that you were never special to begin with. And when she realized that you were unapproachable and someone who never let her secrets slip, she knew that you would never open up.

“Why did Maeve get to be punished, she should’ve been the one who left.” A comment that went past your ears. You paid no reaction and continued your way back to your room, all you needed to do was get out and talk to Theseus, passing him a piece of crucial information about how you were being trailed these last few days and how Maeve held no contact after being laid off by Madame Blanche. No letters to her friends in Amour Délicat, which is unlike her character at all. She liked to gossip and was often associated with the one who made the nasty comment about you, and to not get a peep out of the former courtesan was unlikely. Very unusual.

Passing down rooms until you reach the final door. Courtesans from Bouquet de Blanc had different sets of rooms. You were never placed to bed in the lower ground rooms, where one hall five people are being accommodated in their respective rooms, you stayed on the upper floors where a singular door resides. There were clothes designated for you to wear, to not lose their status, and you were only required to wear white, a sign of purity when the truth is you are embedded with sins.

Opening the door, what greeted you was a simple room. No knick-knacks, just all the necessities to be considered a bedroom. There were no high ceilings or chandeliers like the room upstairs that decorated this simple abode. The only splash of the decor was the potted Epiphyllum oxypetalum residing at the dresser, its buds still not formed. It was charmed to be water daily while you were occupied by other means, you never miss it when it blooms once a year. This plant was a gift from the Madame, every courtesan had a flower designated to be their own identity. A cruel reminder that this is who you are in the establishment of Madame Blanche. A flower in her bouquet of courtesans.

Bernadette who has been by your side all this time summoned the golden tub, and immediately you succumb to cleaning yourself hastily. You scrubbed hard while the water still flowed to a full; Bernadette rushed as well as she poured an essence of floral shampoo right into your hair. The house elf saw the forming bruise right at your neck and touched it gently.

“Again? Please be careful around men like that Miss.” You flinched when her cold hands touched the sensitive skin, she whispered a healing spell. You could only nod as you hurried to dress yourself, in simple clothes, something inconspicuous.

“Are you meeting the auror again?” Bernadette asked. Worry was written all over her face.

“I have to, this— this contract is an opportunity I could simply not pass. When the time comes, I’ll make sure that you’ll come with me to be free. And this is the only reason for that to happen, trust me.” Kneeling right in front of the house elf, she caressed your cheek and wiped the worry off your face. Bernadette nodded and put a tight lip on her lips signifying her silence. The house elf that you have trusted your whole life, embraced you in a hug like a doting mother would.

The truth is Bernadette is your only friend, she is the only other person you ever trusted and cared for. When the world turned their eyes with disgust at you, it was empathy and a cup of warm tea that she offered. Bernadette took care of you as a loving mother would; not that you knew what it's like to feel a mother’s touch. It was she who gave you warmth, and sincerity. And even if you are not related by blood, the bond you have with each other is irreplaceable.

“What would you do if she asks?”

“I’ll think of something, don’t worry.”

“Stay safe.”

“I will.”

Walking towards the back doors, you stopped at the guard’s quarters to call upon Chen and Marc. The men who were assigned to watch your every move whenever you are needed outside. They did not only to keep you from harm but to prevent you from running away. Those were Madame Blanche’s orders.

“Are we too lazy to go outside boys?” You crossed your arms across your chest and looked at their round of poker game. Groaning, the two boys sat their cards down to fold. And just by hearing their thoughts out loud, they were dejected. Placing their cards down, they begrudgingly stood to follow you, calling out to their other mates about continuing the game later.

“Where are we going today, Miss? Another theater or a trip to see the Seine?” Chen enthusiastically asked.

Chen and Marc were great at their job, they knew to keep tabs on all behavior and what to report to Madame Blanche as soon as the trip was done. You had been doing this for years, and with experience, you knew how to throw them off your scent easily. All you need is a place wherein utmost surveillance would become useless when faced with difficulty; for that to happen you need an obstacle, an obstacle called the non-magiques. With the planned rendezvous in mind, you hummed not even trying to act overly giddy at the thought.

“We are going to the non-magiques golden district, the Champs-Élysées Avenue.” With a loud choking sound, followed by a slap on the back you walked towards the double doors. The feeling of air right on your skin made you elated.

“What for?”

“I need a look… a look on how to be the perfect bride.”

For the non-magiques it would take them 10-12 hours to travel to Champs-Élysées Avenue from the Amour Délicat, but apparition came easy to you and there are portkeys scattered in Paris. Besides, the farther you are in Amour Délicat the better. You didn’t need prying eyes or ears to watch your every move, and besides the non-magiques tourists spots were certainly a beauty to look at, that was just an additional benefit. Marc and Chen could only comply with your demands as you looked at every boutique with wonder in your eyes. They were on edge and yet they couldn’t do anything about it, afraid that the Bureau des Aurors would show up any minute. They were not accustomed to traveling outside the wizarding walls, they were wary that they would be captured and jailed if they ever slipped and showed magic towards the non-magical people. Pinballs of sweat dripped to their forehead as their wands remained at the inside of their pocket, eyes darting across one another as they tried to remain calm.

“Did you hear about ‘Handcuff' Houdini? I believe he is now in Wales touring! How I wish I could’ve seen his magic again; my papa said it was like sorcery!” You nudged the thought loud and clear to the young boys who bumped past your escorts. Messing around a little more, you whispered the fear of sorcery in their veins.

Another group of elegant young ladies passed by this time their thoughts were merely pure coincidence.

“I’m excited, I’ll finally be able to go to Magic City.” You stopped to tap them on their shoulder, the girl stared up at you in wonder. You looked regal with your white coat and scarf, even in the eyes of the non-magiques you were a beauty to look at.

“Did you say Magic City? I don’t believe that I’ve been there, care to tell me where it is?” You asked, voice loud and clear for the eavesdropping escort to hear. “Yes— yes the one by rue de l'Université. Their dance halls have the most extravagant balls and celebrations. I heard that it is the most magical place here in Paris. We hope to see you there!”

“Is that so? Thank you and I do hope to see you too. Have a wonderful day!” You turned around at their pale faces and gave them a small smile.

“Do you think that is a wizard-owned location?” Chen approached you but you could only hum in uncertainty, placing doubts onto their heads.

“I don’t know… I do think it is.” Turning around, you smiled as you heard one of your escorts gulp nervously, whispering amongst themselves about this new development and how they would tell Madame Blanche. If it is a new competitor, then it would be a threat to the Madame’s establishment

“Come on Chen and Marc, you have to hurry we do not have all day.” You hurriedly walked, passing through throngs of people, widening the gap as the men behind you were slowly losing you among the crowd. As soon as you walked two blocks away, you walked inside the corner shop street.

Ready to welcome yourself in, the floral ambiance greeted your senses, the name of the boutique long forgotten when you realized what kind of establishment it was. Countless white bridal dresses decorated its walls, and mannequins stood still wearing expensive-looking gowns. In another life, you would’ve rejoiced to be a bride, but now you despised the color white.

White. Felt restricting; it reminded you of the control, the emptiness, the loneliness, and the lies. White made you feel empty.

“Welcome to ‘Love Affairs’. How may I help you today?” The boutique assistant's voice spooked you and immediately helped you to snap out of it. She guided you to a sofa that held champagne and a catalog. It almost made you nauseous to see the closed catalog staring straight back at you, you thought that if you scanned through its pages, you would see yourself and the price under your name. You held everything in your will to force the bile from coming out of your mouth. This place felt sickly, it reminded you of Amour Délicat.

But you remember Theseus, curse him for choosing something like this. Something that is triggering every parcel in your body to just run away. He had provided you with this exact location, a place wherein you can do it discreetly. He could not afford to use the hotels the Aurors were staying at, that would cause too much curiosity in his superior. And the tavern had too many curious eyes and ears, this place was the first best thing. A place where no one would look for you and you could come up with an alibi easily, here you know that Marc and Chen could not follow you or it would raise suspicion.

Mr. Scamander… Mr. Scamander was here. Forcing yourself to remain in control you asked, “I was wondering if an English man has come in here? He was supp—” Her eyes widened in delight before you could even finish your sentence.

“Oh, you must be his bride! What a wonderful couple you two are. Come with me!” She urged you to stand up and she grabbed your hand, almost dragging you up the stairs where you can look at the catalog of dresses privately.

A lone stylist stood in the middle of the room, entertaining a man who was slouched down on the couch. His knees showing signs of nervousness.

“His fiance is here!” The girl called out and Theseus looked at you, he expected you to not even show up but when you did his fear was lifted. He stood immediately, engulfing you in a tight embrace as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. Your hand hovered right behind his back, wary of your touch on his. You were afraid that if you became too close, he would flinch and push you away. All it took you was a second to decide before giving him an embrace of equal force, not too harsh that your bones would crush and not too soft that the wind could blow you away.

With his voice in your ear and his hand carefully drawing circles into your back, he whispered. “We need to talk, they almost thought you stood me up.”

It did interesting things to you, his whisper felt like feathers on your back making you arch closer to him and parted your lips. You felt yourself tremble to his voice, almost wanting more; you almost wanted to be greedy and see where this would lead. You push back to stare at him, but this is not the time or place for it, you have a job. And your job is to give him the information that he needs, not your services but secrets; he needed your secrets. And you two were not alone.

Your palm caresses his cheek softly; “Follow my lead.”

Dropping your hand back to your side, you turned to stare at the stylist, the white streaks on her told of her age. She gave you a genuine smile, and in her thoughts, you could see her admiration. Slowly his hand left your back to stay right in his pockets, the warmth leaving as he did.

‘Just like me and my husband.’ The lady's thoughts circled in your mind as her finger fiddled with her own ring.

You formally introduce yourself and shake the stylist’s hand, flattering your eyes. Like stepping in front of an opera house, you performed another lie of a lifetime.

“I had to apologize, I had to run an errand. It is hard to plan a wedding with only two people.” You gave them your made-up story, how quickly and easily it came to you.

Theseus would’ve thought it was true, but he knew your truth. Your contract was to only tell him the truth and to be seen on the other side of your white lies, he knew not to meddle with an expert at hand. You were far too quick on your feet to lie between your teeth, it came easy to you. He admired you for that, you would make a great auror.

“The way your husband came here was uncertain, we almost pushed him out of our boutique. He was a nervous wreck. Now that I know why he is like that, your case is something unheard of, we always thought that the groom would only see the bride’s dress at the wedding, not the planning. Yet, you do not need to worry about anything, we'll make sure that this is a wedding you’ll never forget.”

Theseus stepped to your left and closed your hand in his, placing a chaste kiss on your knuckles, hiding the view of your ringless finger from the spectators in front of you. “We wanted it to be private, just the two of us against the world.” He declared, and the boutique’s assistant swooned at the thought of pure love.

“Ah, then why don’t you let us do the magic, all you must do is trust us and we will surprise you with the collection suited for someone like you. We will not leave you disappointed.” The stylist said as she closed the catalog and ushered the young assistant down the stairs.

With the given privacy, you immediately walked toward the round-stage podium and closed the curtains surrounding it, not before dragging Theseus inside. Charming a muting spell in the vicinity, you looked up at him with seriousness plastered on your face. Now you were back to business, putting down the facade of pretending to be husband and wife.

He fiddled with something in his inner breast pocket. “Take this.”

In his hand, a small dainty ring resides. It didn’t need the most expensive of gems to look beautiful as it glittered through the sun's rays. The golden band protected the one moonstone right in its middle, it looked beautiful and delicate.

Not even realizing that you were traversing his mind, you found a memory behind it. It was his mother’s ring. In his head, you saw him in front of the dining table along with his mother passing that very ring with a smile on her face, her small freckles dusted on her cheeks looking the same as her son. You can see her muttering the words ‘When the time comes, I know you’ll give it to the right person.” His mother placed the ring in his hand and closed it tightly. You can see him being apprehensive but with one last look, he thanked his mother and hugged her.

“This is your mother’s. Mr. Scamander— I–I don’t think I am the right person for this.” You muttered, eyes darting back to his eyes. The palm of his hand was left unoccupied with the ring as you didn’t even want to touch something so special to him, afraid that your ruination would cause its destruction. Your heart was pounding loudly, mind muddled with the unknown as the thoughts of all people within 50 meters became one. The voices all came at you at once as the white noise grew louder. You were breathing heavily, your hand slapped right into your ears to make the voices of the people stop.

His eyes grew worried, as he held your hand beside your head. Muttering. He was muttering something. You stared at his lips as you leaned closely.

“They’ll think you’re lying if you are not wearing the ring.”

“Oh... Yes of course.”

You expected he was giving it to you as an act of commitment, but his thoughts were loud and clear, you just didn’t expect the disappointment that followed. Placing the ring onto your right hand, not before he stopped to carefully hold your hand and place it on your left ring finger.

“Vena Amoris. Vein of Love. You wear it on your left, closer to your heart.” He whispered, realizing what your implication meant. Air thick with tension and uncertainty made you step back, giving distance and formality once more. This is a job, you don’t meddle with a personal relationship with it; you should know better than that.

Clearing your throat, eyes avoiding his stare as his mouth opened and closed, trying to pull the words right out of his mouth.

“Should we start? We can’t afford to lose time by dallying around.” As professional as ever, you procure your wand to show him the memory. Shaking his head, he nodded and stood straight closing his eyes, as he waited for you to push the memory into his mind.

In this memory, you gave him the exact faces of the people who are trailing you, the same people who asked if you were acquainted with Charles Moore. Even giving him the exact location where and when these people were trailing behind you. Two men, a feat larger and burlier than he is and one small with a mean look in his eyes.

For the second memory, you gave him the news about the unresponsiveness of the former courtesan Maeve. You gave him details about how she never answered letters from her friends and almost seemed like she disappeared from the face of the world when she was a person who is quite the opposite of that. You gave him details as to her last known location, giving him the harder part of the job.

When you were done, he was gasping for air, almost as if he was drowning. Theseus almost tripped on the curtains as they opened when he fell. You tried to catch him but he was halfway on the floor when you caught his arm. You dragged him back to the couch while he regained his senses. Transferring memories with the use of legilimency is not an easy art to master, with time you’ll learn to endure the pain better but, for his second time, Theseus was faring far better.

When the assistant downstairs heard the bustling noise of someone falling, she immediately came upstairs to see you hovering right above your supposed husband. Meanwhile, Theseus lay there almost as if he was asleep. The aftereffects of legilimency took a toll on him.

“Is he okay? What happened? Do you need anything?” The assistant asked.

“Just took a tumble, do not worry. May we please have a glass of water? I think my husband is too tired and nervous for all of this.” You politely said. The girl immediately nodded and headed down the stairs. When you heard the pattern of footsteps disappearing, you sighed.

“Mr. Scamander?”

“Mr. Scamander?!”

“Answer me.”

“Theseus.”

Your voice commanding is still laced with worry as he remains to catch his breath, his eyes still closed and his skin still pale. Theseus muttered a sentence, way too quiet for your ears to pick up on.

“What? Can you repeat it?” You asked leaning forward, as pinballs of sweat and the colors from his cheeks started to come back.

“I said you didn’t give me time to gather my thoughts. Yes, you would be the right person for someone… I’m not saying you aren’t. Someday a lucky bloke would be lucky to have you as their right person.” Giving you the cheeky smile once again, he opened one of his eyes to stare at your reaction.

Slapping him lightly on his arm, “This is not the time for this type of conversation.” You sighed nonetheless when he laughed. When he laughs, you have never heard a sweeter and warm sound. His laughter made you at ease. He was fine.

“Then when? Care to join me for a cup of fire whiskey later? I think we do deserve it, after all, you now called me Theseus, I assume that I am now your friend not just an ally.” He replied cheekily. Held tilted to one side, wiggling his eyebrows for you to agree.

“When this is done, we will drink fire whiskey and gigglewater until the next morning. And I’ll make sure that you are too drunk to remember anything. Happy?” You fixed yourself and stood straight arms folded across your chest, he nodded.

“And stop getting a reaction out of me, we are in the middle of a business here. And I can’t take it seriously to see you annoyingly smiling at me.”

“So, you’re implying that I make you distracted?”

“Yes, you are a large distraction, an annoying one. I can’t believe I made an unbreakable vow to a cheeky person like you.”

“You know you would make a great auror someday.”

“Ha! In your dreams.”

You didn’t realize that the stylist and her assistant walked up the stairs with refreshments and too many dresses on hand. The lady looked at the couple in front of her with a large smile plastered on her face.

“Come on my dear, we must make you the perfect bride.” She dragged you as you watched Theseus sit straight and drink the refreshment in his hand, still giddy at the thought of you breaking down the facade of seriousness when you rolled your eyes at him playfully and stuck your tongue out at him.

“Real mature.” You said to him when you knew that he wouldn’t understand a word you muttered but with the way you said it, he knew what you meant.

You didn’t expect it; the walls that were too high to climb, too tough to break down easily crumbled under a certain auror. The absence of difficulty and pretending came naturally, it came to you as easy as breathing. Whether it is because you're bound by truth or maybe it's just the way that he is, you are uncertain. All you know is that it felt nice not to withhold the true you.

After pretending and having fun wearing white bridal gowns, you would think you lead a normal life; the high life of having a sense of normalcy felt nice. Mr. Scamander—Theseus certainly made his company a pleasure to be with. It was hours of leisure and laughing as the cheap champagne of the non-magiques stayed on your lips; bickering among throngs of dresses as he tried to ‘fight’ a particular dress he seemed to like. The stylist and her assistant were accommodating and made sure that the two had fun, and a ‘day you won’t forget’, but they were none-the-wiser, this was all a faux relationship. Looking at bridal dresses is a certain once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, where you don't need to worry about who is behind your back and watching every move. Maybe soon, you could be like this. You would find the love of your life, experience the freedom other people have, and possibly love the way other people love. Oh, how beautiful and bright that future would be.

Walking back to the steps, back at Amour Délicat you almost feel like a schoolgirl having a crush. Your own escorts who spent their whole day almost looking for you were tired. And yet their worries were lifted when you pretended that you had been searching for them as well. And behind them Theseus has to tip-toe out of their line of sight, waving you a small goodbye and a large smile plastered on his face. It almost seemed like a secret love affair, and you giggled at the thought. As soon as you open the back doors, all you can see are the courtesans gathered around the fireplace peering at something. Gasps of amazement filled the air. Their shadows danced right by the fireplace, passing on to something with great curiosity.

“Isn’t this expensive?”

“Do you think our lovers could get that too?”

“Ah, I’m so jealous.”

You paid no mind to them, as you walked towards the halls to your room. At the end of the hallway, Bernadette is biting on her finger with worry.

“There you are!” Someone behind you exclaimed, Turning around they gleamed. “The beauty of the night is here.”

The courtesan immediately surrounded you, and right in front of you was the black velvet box. And inside was a necklace with far too many pearls for you to count, and those weren’t just normal non-magiques pearls, these were siren tears. Acquiring siren tears is not an easy task, banned in most countries, and to do something so inhumane to a siren is punishable by law.

“What is this?” Staring at it with disgust and annoyance.

“What are you talking about? Just wear it, it’s yours after all.”

And right in the middle was a note, written in golden ink. Sitting innocently and untouched. Picking up the note with an apprehensive hand, you wavered. This is something your mind couldn’t see or read with the use of legilimens, you needed to see with your own eyes to understand.

‘I hope you wear it. This is merely a downpayment worth 4,000 galleons and the life of a certain English Man.’

And right on your left ring finger, a lone simple ring resides; a ring no amount of value could surpass. An engagement ring that came with love, a love from his mother to him, a ring that has seen pure love. You felt it grow cold on your finger.

text format: “dialogue” is in French. ‘Dialogue’ are thoughts. a/n: cant be touch starved when you hate physical touch (I am a hypocrite)

#.sd updates #theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander x y/n #theseus scamander imagine

446 notes · View notes

strangerdangerwrites · 8 months

Text

something so intimate about handmade stuff, handmade bread, handmade presents, or handwritten letters, in general intimacy and tenderness are stored in hands, in holding hands and playing with each other's fingers, warming each other's hands...

15K notes · View notes