A Lesson in Aesthetics (for asthedrivensnow )

[prettyawkward]

Maybe there was something to be said for less sleep in a twenty-four hour day.  Rabastan hadn't done much to the rest of the house, but his studio was, for the most part, much cleaner than it had been previously.  He had even purchased a new chaise, shoving the other in the far corner as a new storage place for scrap canvases and boards.  The lighting had been rearranged, and he had even managed to paint the walls in solid colours, relieving it of the splattered paint swatches, cracks, and tears that had developed over the last few months of his restless nights.  His room, of course, was still an absolute disaster area, but Narcissa hadn't mentioned needing to occupy that space.  

Currently, Rabastan was sitting in the hall that led to his bedroom, staring at the wall before him.  Several times, he had imagined Narcissa returning, to the point where he had almost convinced himself she had, only to realise it hadn't happened, after all.  His eyelids closed and opened in near slow-motion.  Everything felt delayed, and he wasn't really sure how long he had been sitting there.  There was a mutter, and he responded, but so quietly he could hardly make it out himself.

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[asthedrivensnow]

It was raining again, and the owl that arrived with his request was moody, preening soggy feathers as she removed its message. Opting to leave it in the care of a house elf rather than send it back out right away, Narcissa went upstairs to gather her coat. Her parents didn't mind what she did with her time that hadn't already been spoken for by their own plans for her, so she felt no need to tell them where she was going, provided she didn't stay too long, and she Apparates directly out of her room and into the corridor outside his apartment.

Her long hair is secured in a chignon, the collar on her coat turned up against the chill in the autumn air, and she knocks sharply on his door.

[prettyawkward]

The sound of the knocking reached his ear, entered his brain, and rattled around a bit before finally triggering a response. Rabastan sucked in a breath, and started a bit. There was a pause, as though he wasn't sure if what he had heard was real, or not. He got to his feet and made his way to the front door.

The door made a small creak as he opened it enough to see who it was.

"Narcissa! You came," he said, stating the obvious, and opening the door the rest of the way to allow her to enter. "I wasn't sure if the owl made it, or if it had chosen to spite me. Ha..."

[asthedrivensnow]

The length of time between knock and response is almost enough to have her turn around. If it hadn't been for the sheer simplicity of the note, she'd have thought her arrival a mistake.

"You give the creatures too much credit," she replies, stepping neatly around him and into the apartment, which looks much the same to her as when last she was here. "But your note was rather succinct, and I'd nothing else to do today."

She adds that last, because it upsets her a little that she responded immediately to a note that said 'Now.'

[prettyawkward]

He reached up, tugging at his hair. Time was becoming less and less of an issue to him. A few seconds, a few days, it all seemed to blur together. Rabastan took no offence to her comment about having nothing else to do, but was instead relieved that she wasn't busy, and was able to comply with the note.

"Shall I take your coat, then?" he asked, trying so hard to be proper. Maybe he should have brushed his hair, or something.

[asthedrivensnow]

How lucky that she has the rest of the day free, right into the evening. His lack of adherence to any sort of schedule suits her, today.

She gives a haughty sniff, then offers him her back. When her arms drop to her sides after unbuttoning, he's free to take the coat from her shoulders.

"Thank you."

Beneath it is a dress in a green so deep it's almost black, fitted through the bodice and flaring at the hips, to fall in a gentle circle around her knees.

[prettyawkward]

He helped her to remove the coat, folding it over his arm as he took in her look. Being behind her, he took his time letting his eyes roam.

"I like that colour. It's lovely. You always look lovely," Rabastan commented before heading to the coat rack.

His thoughts couldn't help but trail back to their last meeting, and a rush of sensations sparked their way through his body as he arranged the coat on the rack.

"Can I get you anything?"

[asthedrivensnow]

Glancing at him over her shoulder, she catches his wandering eye, and smirks a little. His earlier claim, last time he'd drawn her, was that he was still a man, and that roving glance certainly proved his point. She doesn't let him see the smirk, waiting until she hears him hand the heavy garment on the coatrack before she turns.

"I'm a little thirsty," she muses, hands smoothing her skirt. They clench in the material for a moment as a sudden thought occurs to her. "Unless... no, never mind."

[prettyawkward]

He made his way back to her promptly at her indecision, "Yes? What is it? Anything! You do for me, and I do for you. That's only proper, right? We do for each other in this."

Rabastan hadn't really done any shopping, so he wasn't sure what he could offer in the ways of drinks. He was mentally cursing himself for it, now. How foolish he always was when it came to functioning properly in society. He could practically hear his mother's harpy-like voice piercing through his brain.

[asthedrivensnow]

She manages to look shy.

"I... don't suppose you have any Gillyweed, do you?"

His mother would most definitely not approve - and neither would hers.

[prettyawkward]

"Gillyweed?" he asked, not really certain where this was going. Gillyweed meant water, and water--well, he had issues with water. If it was too deep, that is.

"I don't...usually have it about. Would you like me to procure some for you? Are you planning on sw-swimming? Or..."

[asthedrivensnow]

She hadn't been clear.

"...dried Gillyweed. You never smoked it in school?"

Well, now this was awkward. And she doesn't Obliviate particularly well, so she hopes that he's not going to take her request for something a little stronger than Firewhiskey amiss.

[prettyawkward]

Rabastan blinked a few times. He was rebellious in school, sure, but the last time he'd attempted to smoke anything had resulted in a rather embarrassing coughing fit that led to a few dry heaves. That was when he decided to stick to alcohol.

He felt foolish, and it probably showed in his cheeks.

"I...I haven't ever, but... I'll fucking try anything, once," especially if it led to reduced inhibitions.

[asthedrivensnow]

"Really? I was certain you'd been there..."

Perhaps she was wrong. Narcissa had been more on the periphery, partaking when offered but not actively pursuing anything. Dried Gillyweed had a marvellous effect - making a person feel relaxed, and somewhat euphoric, and generally promoting a happy mood amongst the crowd who'd breathed it in. And frankly, it was rather nice, though not something she wanted to be seen buying, even in Knockturn Alley.

"But it's not important. A drink will be fine - shall I head through?"

[prettyawkward]

He shook his head, fairly certain he had avoided hanging around much of anyone his last few years. There had been a couple years where he met the love of his life, and pursued her to no end, even after she dumped him. She had been a Ravenclaw, so he had spent most of his time in the library, even though he never bothered to study.

"I'll know for next time. Dolph is bound to know where to find some," Rabastan commented, certain that between Rodolphus and Augustus, one of them would know where he could get some.

"Head on through, I'll make you something relaxing..."

[asthedrivensnow]

Both will know. She's fairly certain Antonin got it from Rodolphus to begin with, if she'd heard correctly. As for the pursuit of academically-inclined loves, Narcissa prefers not to discuss that in too much depth. Or at all. It will only upset her.

"I'll be waiting," she calls over her shoulder as she wanders back through to his studio. It's tempting to peek into rooms hidden behind closed doors, but the fact that she can hear him in the kitchen dampens her curiosity.

When he arrives, he'll find her standing in the window, feet here and hair unbound, but still clothed, staring out at the rainy afternoon.

"This seems to be a theme..."

[prettyawkward]

Rabastan had a couple of mixed drinks, part firewhiskey, and part of a calming potion he had been given for his fits. He'd found they complimented each other well, and helped him to dampen out the noise that surrounded his ears all the time.

He set one down near where she was standing, taking a sip of his own.

"I think it's just the joys of living in England," he said, glancing around the room. "It's one of the main reasons my parents spend most of the winter months in their place in Turin, Italy. I only get to see the place during the hols. Still rainy, but less often, and warmer."

[asthedrivensnow]

It's probably a mistake to not look at what she's drinking before she drinks it, but that's what she does, and she gives the glass, and then Rabastan, a a peculiar look upon swallowing.

"Is this a new cocktail? It's... sweeter?"

But not unpleasant, and it certainly takes the fiery edge off that usually makes her cough and splutter. There's a hint of something that brings out the honey undertones in the liquor, and this time she has a larger mouthful before setting her glass down.

"I've not been to Italy since I was very small, and I don't recall it raining. But I like rain. It's cleansing."

[prettyawkward]

Rabastan gave her a wry smile as she drank. He wasn't absolutely sure what sort of effect it would have on her, he only knew from his own experiences, but it certainly made one feel incredibly pleasant.

"It is. I like warm rain. Cold rain makes me feel...I don't know...desolate. Gray. Lonely..."

[asthedrivensnow]

She has no voices in her head to silence, no drums pounding in her ears, so a calming potion for a specific purpose is going to make her blithely dreamy. Add the alcohol...

"You're describing an English winter in general," she points out, taking another mouthful. Her palate is trying very hard to pick out the new flavours from the potion, but the potion itself is working against her, calming the interest in the new and prompting her to give him a slow smile instead. "But I like to watch that sort of rain from inside."

She turns back to the window, eyes on the very weather in question. It takes her a moment or two to speak again.

"How shall I pose today, Rabbie?"

ah, busy busy...sorry for the delay :)

[prettyawkward]

"Precisely, which is why I think if I ever get chance, I might leave this place," Rabastan commented, with a bit of a sigh. He'd never get that chance, though. Not until things were settled, at least. He was bound to far too much around here.

"I suppose it isn't so bad from the inside out."

He sipped quietly at his drink as she paused, swallowing hard and feeling the alcohol move its way down. As she had experienced, it didn't burn as much, but it certainly caused a sensation. The potion always seemed to have an immediate effect, but the alcohol would kick in later.

"Ah...have you any suggestions? Anything you'd like to try?" He asked, hoping that would be a bit safer than the other ridiculous ideas he had in mind. He had pictured her in so many ways in the last week, and none of them seemed like something he could get away with calling 'art' to the casual patron.

Perfectly fine. :)

[asthedrivensnow]

She wonders where he'd go, given the chance - would it be Italy, as he'd mentioned? Or perhaps somewhere with a more tropical clime... Narcissa is quite sure she's asked that out loud, but when he doesn't respond, she realises she's only thought about it.

And that's odd, really.

She has another mouthful of her whiskey mix, and rests her forehead against the window. It's cool, almost cold, when compared to the way her body is heating from the Firewhiskey.

"Maybe... maybe here. In the window." She tucks one bare foot behind the other, the angle displaying her lovely ankle and calf, before her legs disappear under the full green dress. "Unless you've anything else in mind?"

Her head feels a little floaty, and she thinks... "I might be drunk. Rabbie, what's in this?"

[prettyawkward]

He had been so busy watching the milky skin of her exposed leg, that he had almost missed her question. When there's a pause, he looked up.

"Hmm? Oh. It's a...a potion. I thought since we didn't have the gillyweed, you'd want something a bit more. ...That wasn't inappropriate of me, was it?"

There was that fleeting thought that maybe this was similar to what he had done with his first girlfriend, offering her chocolates laced with love potion to try and get her to be a bit more amourous than normal with him. Rabastan had lost quite a lot due to that, and there was a chilling sensation that maybe Narcissa would be offended by what he'd done, even if his intentions weren't completely the same. Not that he'd really refuse if her inhibitions were lowered...

[asthedrivensnow]

Well, that explained it. She turns to face him, balance moderately compromised, but she saves it by resting her backside on the wide windowsill.

"Terribly inappropriate," she replies. "You shall be punished most severely; my retribution is swift and painful."

And then the bright peal of her laughter fills the room.

"I feel as though I could fly!" Whatever he'd given her, it's had the effect of making her drunk far more quickly than whiskey alone, and has removed several layers of prim and proper to a giggling young woman who's even now having another mouthful. "Or... dance upon clouds..."

[prettyawkward]

Before her laugh, he had a growing show of fear on his face. As soon as he heard her giggle, though, everything seemed to relax. She seemed at ease, and it put him there, as well. Or maybe that was also the drink. He took another sip.

"I could draw you at the window. I could draw you on clouds!"

[asthedrivensnow]

"Mmm, but clouds are cold..."

She pushes herself up onto the window sill, legs crossed at the ankle, and has another sip of her doctored drink.

"And I don't want wet feet. So you're going to have to settle for cloudless art, today."

But being in the window isn't so bad; the sun struggling through the grey clouds is brightened by the downpour and backlights her rather charmingly.