Whenever she got sad, there was 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲.
And on the other hand, whenever he got sad, there was 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫.
Until they discovered something that only required both of them in the same room -- nothing else.
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧, 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 �...
The hours and hours of preparing for the event, to the event itself—the very interesting Bass Industries anniversary that I spent hoping Draco would somehow, make even the slightest physical contact with me. But,
"Happy Christmas, Clementine." His lips curled into a smirk as he made his way towards the food table where Danielle and I were standing.
Was all I got. The longing I had for his touch was almost unbearable, and the fact that he knew what he was doing to me made it worse.
It was horrible, and it needed to stop.
"The offer still stands." He whispered softly into my ear as he extended his arm to reach for a pastry behind me.
But no matter how tempting that sounded like, being someone's doll was never an option to me.
I kept forcing myself to believe that he was an just an outlet for my stress, and nothing more. It was just sex.
It was sex that I wanted, not Draco.
And i'm sure he feels the same. Without any doubt.
The next days were filled with relaxing and unwinding. And most importantly, packing. Followed by more relaxing and unwinding, but in Paris. I finally got to see my grandma's atelier and wander along the streets of the muggle world. Paris was exceptionally beautiful compared to the other muggle places i've visited.
But right now, I was in front of a mirror all dolled up for the first breakfast of the year. In Paris.
I wore the white dress mother gave me for Christmas, along with the heels and some pearl accessories.
I grinned at the sight of myself in the mirror. I was finally happy.
Even without Cedric.
I grabbed my purse from the bed and headed for the hotel's lounge, where my family was waiting.
"Morning, my dear." My grandma stood up, clinging her arm around mine. She raised and eyebrow, scrutinizing my dress. "Did Cornelia buy this?"
"Yes I did, mother." Mother walked in front of us, rolling her eyes. "And there's nothing wrong with it." She smiled sarcastically. "Come on now, we're late for breakfast." She sassily stated before pulling father's arm and walking out of the hotel.
Grandma looked at me, shaking her head. "She hasn't changed."
"Nope, not one bit." I replied, giggling.
We followed after them, the soft and calming air of the city surrounding us in an instant. The streets were filled with café's and vendors—mostly of flowers and beautiful ornaments. The sun was mellow, it shone gently upon the children who were playfully running around. The smell of freshly baked pastries that have the power to lure anyone into the store, and the pretty girls who gracefully walked around the city. These make Paris- well, Paris.
