Invisible String [t. s]

Stupid

August 25th, 1922.
Paris, France.

  Amélie found herself in her office at the Ministry, everyone had gone out to eat something or were patrolling the streets of the city. Her office suddenly felt too gloomy, the dark oakwood furniture, the windows, the light that came in through them from the rainy day outside, the pictures in the bookshelves, everything felt sad for some reason; she wondered why.

She felt sad. Maybe that's why, she thought. It made sense. Ever since Theseus walked away she's felt that way. Sad, confused, hurt...lonely. Even stupid. Stupid for asking him to leave knowing he would, stupid for not chasing after him even if she knew she shouldn't, stupid for loving him and allowing him to walk away from her. Amélie sighed as she looked out the window, rain falling onto it.

She bit her thumbnail when a thought popped in her head. No. No, I shouldn't. Her eyes went towards her desk, meeting her quill in the ink container and a stack of unused parchment paper she could write on. Don't do it. Movement on the desk called her attention, her sight snapped towards the picture in movement. A picture of her and Theseus together at a café, and the memory started playing like a film reel in her mind.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Back when Scamander was staying over at her place after Leta's passing, they decided to go out and have some evening tea at a café near her apartment. There, a photographer that was passing by asked if he could snap a few pictures of them, for he thought they were a lovely couple. At least that's what he told them, when the Aurors tried to correct him, he just placed the camera up and they laughed as he took the picture. He kept it in his suitcase and thanked them before walking away.

Amélie's eyes found Theseus', a short amused pause went by before they laughed the awkwardness and sudden nervousness off. However, Theseus realised the man had crossed the street just to sit on a bench and watch the world move before him.

When they finished their tea, Amélie pulled out of her coat a box of cigars. She lit one up and started smoking.

"That's going to kill you, you know?" Theseus told her back then.

"I do." Amélie said to him before she took a puff of the cigarette, making Theseus roll his eyes.

"Then don't smoke it." Amélie shrugged and exhaled the smoke. "You've always been a stubborn girl." She laughed and threw her arms around his neck, his wrapped themselves around her waist in a second, like a reflex.

  Both realised how quick this happened and their faces were very close, his blue eyes found her red lips and her green orbs observed that movement. Her lips curved into a smile and she laughed, throwing her head back. Theseus smiled at her al laughed too. They were friends, good friends, but just friends. There shouldn't be any attraction, but there was. There always has been, but they elected to ignore it and laugh it off.

  When they had finished laughing, they smiled at each other and their glances met again. She kissed his cheek and he kissed her knuckles a moment later, when their embrace had broke.

  As they walked back towards her apartment, they heard a male voice calling them. It was the photographer.

"Excusez-moi!" He yelled and Amélie turned around, looking over her shoulder. "Excusez-moi, mademoiselle." She stopped and Theseus stopped beside her.

"Oui?" Said Amélie and the man smiled at her as he extended a small envelope. "C'est quoi ça?"

"Une image de l'amour." He smiled at them. Theseus frowned a bit, for he didn't understand what he had said. "C'est une chose magnifique d'avoir ce que vous avez tous les deux. chérissez-le. toujours." Amélie smiled at the man and opened the envelope. Her eyes found the picture of their embrace and the movement of their laughter, her smile widened.