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( January 1979 )
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"SO, TELL ME ABOUT YOURSELF, REG." Libillule sipped on her frosted butterbeer while she sat across from the boy of her dreams. He sipped from a cup of tea, a typical Regulus thing.
"Why?"
She dramatically sighed, "because I'd like to know more about the boy who's called me pretty, obviously."
His ears turned pinkish but Libillule took it as the cold still being present in his body. "I told you, it wasn't on purpose."
"You also told me you'd put a pillow to my face in my sleep if I called you Reg, where's my pillow?" He rolled his eyes. "Have I upgraded to the nickname level?"
"Don't push your luck, I still have a scarf." She laughed at this. Something Regulus hadn't ever heard while being the cause of it. He wished to capture it in a jar like fireflies to keep it safe from those who didn't deserve to hear it.
"I deem myself very lucky if I was able to nab a date with you," she grinned ear to ear.
Regulus furrowed his brows. "Date? This is a date?"
Her eyes widened as she felt every blood vessel in her chest drop to her hips with her heart. How on Earth was he not aware she asked him on a date? She asked to go somewhere, just them, no one else. What else could it be?!
"What do you think this is?" her voice cracked slightly while she shied into her seat sipping on her beverage.
"Whatever you want it to be."
Her heart pieced itself back together and strung itself back in its rightful place behind her ribcage. "It's a date."
Regulus nodded, "it's a date."
"Good. Now go on and tell me about yourself already."
"Alright, I paint."
Dupont's breath into her mug fogged up her glasses. "You paint?" She took them off to clear them.
"I paint. Now your turn, I don't like talking about myself."
She put her glasses back on her face. "I like fashion, a lot. So much so that I want to become a designer in Paris. I want to combine magic and the fashion industry." Her cheeks lightly flushed as he listened quietly and attentively. "But, I have zero support from my mother so I have no idea what I'll do if I don't get an apprenticeship in Paris."
"How disappointing," he looked away from her. "I've seen some of your work, you're quite good, I don't see why you won't get the apprenticeship, but if you don't, it'll be their loss." He shrugged and sipped his tea as though he hadn't made her entire week. No one had ever said such things to her, and surely he didn't seem like he was lying or joking. He was genuine about his words and it tugged at every microscopic heartstring that had sewn Libillule's heart together.
"I like you a lot, Mantis," she blurted out. This was true. They both knew it. But it wasn't exactly how she would have liked to go about things.
"I tolerate you more than others, Papillon." He gave a tilt of his head with his words. He had no idea how to go about stating he reciprocated her feelings. They were still so new to him. But this would do just fine for Libillule. Yes, indeed.
