15.

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Summer 2010
Monaco

The blue-green sea, that reminded Ginny so much of Pierre's sullen eyes, lapsed against the grainy gold sand. The ocean's foam danced wildly at her feet before retreating back into the great expanse. Dark emerald seaweed bathed in the waters, rocking back and forth along the repetitive motion. Seagulls squawked at the roaring waves and people crowding the beach. The sun was bright overhead, kissing the top of the young-girl's scalp as her skin sizzled.

Ginny's feet marched across the sand furrows, past the elderly nude women that sat in their beach chairs without a care in the world, along the edge of dark brown and wet sand that sunk underneath her weight, finally making it to an empty spot for the parents to set up base.

The adults brought a tent for the blazing sun- whose rays were blaring on the weathered rocks by the shore. She dropped her backpack and foldable chair on the ground, huffing. Pierre's shoulder brushed against her sweaty skin, picking up what she dropped in one-swift-motion.

"The tide will be coming in soon." He muttered with a hint of annoyance in his voice. His muscled arms carried her things farther back, beyond the space provided for the big tent. He threw the towel from around his neck on the sand, setting down his black backpack along with her stuff, too.

She wondered if that was his own, odd, way of apologizing for earlier.

The parents put up the white tent, instructing the group of kids to leave their stuff in the shade. Charles, Chloe, and Arthur were smothered with thick sunscreen. The oldest Leclerc watched with a smug grin, listening to the whines of his siblings as he plopped on the sand and stuck his headphones in his ears. Timothée lathered himself with sun-tan oil too, probably wanting to protect his skin for upcoming casting calls. No one wants to hire a sunburnt teenager for a movie.

Ginny and Pierre stood on his towel a few feet away from the others. She found herself watching him in the twinkling light. He looked more angelic on the beach, then at the Leclerc home an hour ago. His long torso twisted as he bent over for a cold water bottle in the cooler. His pointy shoulder-blades flexed, almost creating the perfect foundation for wings.

Angel or Demon... Ginny wasn't sure.

She'd seen both.

But Demon seemed most fitting on a day-to-day basis.

He stood straight again, pouring the bottle of water over his face. He ran a hand through his hair, moving the water over the dry strands. Ginny thought he looked... cute... with wet hair. The regular dirty blonde turned dark brown, like her own.

Through the chatter, Ginny hadn't heard her brother calling her name. She finally snapped out of her gaze, blushing crimson in the cheeks as Timothee chucked his bottle of sunscreen towards her. He chuckled under his breath and Ginny had a funny feeling she knew why. Charles was frowning behind him, but Pierre had his head cocked to the side... smirking.

"Hit me with some of that." Pierre commanded Ginny, turning to face her with his arms spread out. He was still grinning. His shiny white teeth bit down, his jaw clenching as he closed his eyes, awaiting the chemicals.

Ginny gulped, feeling nervous about spraying him. Was it a trick? Was he going to yell after? Would the sunscreen end up backfiring in her face? She pressed her thumb against the blue cap and sprayed the mist all over his firm chest. He let out the tiniest giggle. "It's cold."

Ginny fought back a smile. Pierre Gasly was a mystery to behold. Angry one second, giggling the next. He was a bully, but a protector. He could be so harsh, yet so gentle. She avoided his lingering eye contact and instead focused on his hairy legs. She sprayed them all the way to his toes and leaned back, "Spin!"

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