How to Make a Villain - [Sebastian Sallow x F!OC]

[fourteen]

Two French girls were sprawled barefoot and carefree over sun-warmed sand; one, whose vivid red hair was a flicker of flame against the landscape of yellows and blues, was idly tracing shapes in the fluffy clouds above, while the other, a vivacious blonde with sun-kissed skin, who possessed all the confidence of a girl who'd never waivered in the knowledge of her own beauty, was bemoaning her latest romantic drama with a boy who'd been kissing not one, but two other girls behind her back.

The two friends had been there for hours, lazing about with the ocean at their feet, an endless sky above and three months of summer holidays stretching glorious and warm before them. But the afternoon was wearing on, evidenced by the deepening strike of tangerine in the west, and Aurélie was expected back home before dark; even on summer holidays, the daughter of an eminent music professor was never allowed to stray far from the piano.

'But enough about my problems,' said the blonde with a deep, mournful sigh. 'When are you finally going to kiss someone?'

Aurélie grimaced.

'Celeste,' she said fondly, 'I'll kiss someone when I find someone worth kissing.' This was Aurélie's usual reply whenever her best friend began lamenting the deficient state of her love life, and today was no different.

Celeste heaved another theatrical sigh and rolled her eyes to the heavens. Aurélie laughed aloud: her golden-haired best friend had a flair for dramatics that she'd always found endlessly amusing.

'Why don't you just kiss that Muggle boy?'

'Eurgh, if you mean the one from the post office...'

'Of course the one from the post office! He can't take his eyes off you whenever we pass by!'

Tossing her long hair over her shoulder, Aurélie pursed her lips and let the sound of crashing waves serve as her reply.

Celeste tsk'd impatiently.

'You don't want to be the only seventh-year at Beauxbatons who hasn't been kissed, do you?' she persisted, knowing all too well how to coax a reaction from her reticent friend.

'We're not seventh years yet.'

'No, but we will be in three months, and you can't be the last girl to be kissed, Aurélie! You're too beautiful to deny yourself a chance at romance. I won't allow it.'

Aurélie wiggled her toes in the sand. 'I'm not denying myself, it's just that I'd hate to rob you of a potential beau, you know, so really I'm just thinking of you.' She grinned. Celeste scowled. 'Besides, you have your priorities all wrong; we'll be taking our N.E.W.Ts this year and all you care about is whether or not I get kissed?'

To her vibrant, spirited best friend, there was little more in life that held more importance than romance. But to Aurélie, the idea of kissing some paltry French boy just for the sake of doing so was rather unappealing. Besides, she didn't have nearly enough patience to navigate the world of dating, nor the required skills to do it with the grace that Celeste did.

'Oh, but don't you want to know what it's like?' Celeste's fair head came to rest on Aurélie's shoulder. 'To be in loooove?'

'My sweet darling precious friend who I love with all my heart, with the way you moan and complain about these boys, I think I'll wait until I find someone worthy of the agony of love. Anyway, your love life provides enough drama for both of us. Now, excuse me,' she leaned over to kiss her best friend's cheek before rising and brushing sand from her blue dress. 'I have to go. Mama will have my head if I'm home late again.'

Home.

Twelve hundred kilometers away, languishing in the sodden Scottish Highlands, Aurélie's heart ached for home; for seashells and sand dunes; for bare feet and shoulder freckles and salty skin; for her best friends' laugh, her mother humming Chopin in the kitchen, her father planting mallowsweet outside.