Post by Deleted on Oct 19, 2018 22:17:37 GMT -7
CW: Cat-calling
Circa Summer 2023; The Leaky Cauldron
Some girls sat at their windows, longing for boys to come and sweep them off of their feet (or even merely hoping that they would be noticed at all, instead of looked through as though they were ghosts). It was a foreign concept, though, when walking into a room made people's heads turn your way with no effort on your part. Plus, when you were quite literally born that way, no one could blame you when other girls' boyfriends stared at you as though you were the last woman on Earth.
In adolescence, especially, nothing had seemed sweeter. The feeling of being able to mesmerize other people with just a bat of her lashes or a flip of her hair was something that Tamatha had enjoyed beyond compare. She had never had difficulty getting dates and had occasionally set her friends up with the boys who had been chasing after her. (She had had her pick of nearly everyone, so why not use it to her advantage?)
When she had transferred to Ilvermorny, it had helped that she spoke fluent French. She could have cursed in people's ears and made it sound like sweet nothings. She never had tried it to know if the trick would work for certain, but she had never doubted that it could. Yes, being the daughter of a Veela and a wizard—the embodiment of magical perfection—had its benefits.
It also had its drawbacks. Even just walking through the Leaky Cauldron on some nights was akin to being a celebrity, although all Tamatha wanted to do was get home from a taxing day at work.
"'Ey, princess, can I buy you a drink?"
Tamatha didn't turn her head when the question came from the corner of the pub. From the wizard's voice, she could tell that he was probably twice her age or older… and extremely drunk.
The same man whistled with his fingers. "You gonna smile for me, love? Turn 'round and smile, c'mon."
The blonde kept walking, though she veered from her course and over to the bar. She smiled immediately, however, when she saw that a man was tending bar—probably a new hire because she hadn't seen him around before. Please, Merlin, let him be straight. Or at least not completely gay.
"It's getting awfully close to 'last call' for that guy, don't you think?" she questioned casually, tilting her head in the direction of the wizard who had called after her but never taking her gaze off of the bartender. She lifted her voice a bit higher than it sounded normally and made her accent more noticeably Francophone than the vaguely Americanized way in which she typically spoke.
"Yeah, yeah… I… I s'pose it is," he answered, looking as though he might crawl over the counter, himself. Even if he did, Tamatha thought, at least he wasn't the creep who had been leering at her. "I'll take care of that bloke for you."
In adolescence, especially, nothing had seemed sweeter. The feeling of being able to mesmerize other people with just a bat of her lashes or a flip of her hair was something that Tamatha had enjoyed beyond compare. She had never had difficulty getting dates and had occasionally set her friends up with the boys who had been chasing after her. (She had had her pick of nearly everyone, so why not use it to her advantage?)
When she had transferred to Ilvermorny, it had helped that she spoke fluent French. She could have cursed in people's ears and made it sound like sweet nothings. She never had tried it to know if the trick would work for certain, but she had never doubted that it could. Yes, being the daughter of a Veela and a wizard—the embodiment of magical perfection—had its benefits.
It also had its drawbacks. Even just walking through the Leaky Cauldron on some nights was akin to being a celebrity, although all Tamatha wanted to do was get home from a taxing day at work.
"'Ey, princess, can I buy you a drink?"
Tamatha didn't turn her head when the question came from the corner of the pub. From the wizard's voice, she could tell that he was probably twice her age or older… and extremely drunk.
The same man whistled with his fingers. "You gonna smile for me, love? Turn 'round and smile, c'mon."
The blonde kept walking, though she veered from her course and over to the bar. She smiled immediately, however, when she saw that a man was tending bar—probably a new hire because she hadn't seen him around before. Please, Merlin, let him be straight. Or at least not completely gay.
"It's getting awfully close to 'last call' for that guy, don't you think?" she questioned casually, tilting her head in the direction of the wizard who had called after her but never taking her gaze off of the bartender. She lifted her voice a bit higher than it sounded normally and made her accent more noticeably Francophone than the vaguely Americanized way in which she typically spoke.
"Yeah, yeah… I… I s'pose it is," he answered, looking as though he might crawl over the counter, himself. Even if he did, Tamatha thought, at least he wasn't the creep who had been leering at her. "I'll take care of that bloke for you."
