a drumming noise inside my head

She was hungover.

Glaring around the cafe from behind her oversized sunglasses, Juliette rubbed at her head, the conversations of the people around sending her head into a pounded nightmare. Were they all stupid? Could they not tell that she was hungover? Leaning over to them and leveling them with a muttered "shut up" that hurt her head even more and left her glaring at a group of people who continued to talk, she scowled, turning back to her coffee.

Swirling her spoon around it as quietly as possible, she silently cursed potionmakers for not making a hangover cure. It was like they wanted her to suffer.

Often, the boy didn't go to a cafe unless it was necessary. But Matthieu had decided to drag him here because he thought that Corin was sulking because he missed Bridget.

Of course he missed Bridget! Clearly, he missed her due to the fact that whenever she was around, they could always make great conversation about science, and rationality, and the never-ending conundrum that was life. He had always felt this strange sort of comfort with her that he had never felt with Matthieu or Renee or even his longtime friend Luc.

Perhaps that was one of the benefits of having a best friend.

As he made his way around of the bar alone, the eldest Rousseau son stumbled upon a girl that was having coffee. Clearly, she was not in her best health. Being the budding doctor the boy was, Corin sat down next to her, eyeing her skeptically.

"Are you alright?" he questioned, "you seem a little ill."

Was someone talking to her? Really now? As if they couldn't see that she just wanted to be left alone. Rubbing at her temple with her free hand, she flicked her gaze upwards to the boy.

Why did he look so familiar? Pushing her sunglasses up her nose, she frowned slightly, trying to make the connection. He was related to one of Lisette's friends, wasn't he? But his name escaped her. Shrugging it off, she glanced down at her coffee before glancing back at the blond. "I'll be alright." Wincing at the sound and raspy tone of her voice, Juliette shook her head, muttering. "But I'd feel better if we spoke quieter."

"Why quieter?" questioned the elder Rousseau son, and definitely the smartest of them all, "we are in a cafe brimming to the windows with people. No matter how loud we articulate chances of people hearing or even caring about our business is slim."

The boy was never much for quiet talk, after all. He'd believed that he was built for speeches of neurological science in the world's top universities, sporting a pair of fake glasses and wearing fifty thousand Euro lab coats. But since he wasn't there yet, he supposed that he could just try and be quiet this time. "Oh right, fine, let's be quiet," he muttered, "if that's what you wish for. Now whatever is the matter with you?" He then continued to process her like a one terabyte thumbdrive. "I know you," he announced. "I know you. Who are you, exactly?"

"I don't care if people hear," Juliette scowled, taking a sip of her coffee. Why in the world would she care about that? It wasn't like they were talking about something confidential. "My head hurts. Loud noises make it worse." She shrugged, acting as if just the sound of her own voice wasn't making it worse.

"Thank you," she muttered, relaxing slightly in her chair. She still felt disgusting, but in a few hours she'd be up and raring to go. Only a matter of time. "Hangover," she answered, raising her mug to her lips. Staring back at him from behind her sunglasses, she raised an eyebrow. What was it with strangers and staring at her? Though, she recognized him from somewhere, so she couldn't really call him a stranger, now could she?

And he recognized her as well, so at least she wasn't just imagining it. "Juliette Josse. And you," she frowned slightly, leaning closer to the boy. "You're related to that Julian kid, right? He's friends with my sister."

The Frenchman raised a curt eyebrow. "If you are so concerned with loud noises bombarding your eardrums," the boy recited, though not without an edge of irritation in his voice, "then why do you not opt to cover your ears with your hands? That's a quick, easy remedy, is it not? Your bones are an opaque enough substance to block the noise out of your ears."

Had the woman didn't tell him to be quiet mere moments before, Corin would have ranted on the stupidity of alcohol.

"Ah..." Corin noted, "explains how I knew you from somewhere. If I have to be frank, I thought you were that awful girl Ninette's sister, but then I remembered that the chances of a Fontaine being not blonde is quite slim." It was then that a familiar question rang in the boy's mind. "Do you know if Ninette and Julian are on courting terms, then?"

"Yes," she snorted, a flash of annoyance in her eyes. "Because I'm going to do that in the middle of a cafe. And besides, I'm using my hands." Scowling, she took a long sip of her coffee.

"Awful girl Ninette?" Juliette repeated, her lips curling into a smile. "Now, now, she's not that bad. A little...." she trailed off, fishing for the right word. "harsh from time to time, but certainly not awful."

Leaning back in her chair, she smirked. "Why? Going to start planning their wedding?" Laughing softly, she shrugged. "I don't think so, but I don't spend enough time around them to know. Why don't you just ask him? He's your brother."

"Again, why ever not?" questioned Corin, "it's not like the whole world is watching you."

The blonde groaned. "Ninette Fontaine," he announced in a disgusted manner, "is the spawn of the Devil. I wonder if she has a career as a stripper waiting for her yet. That, I believe is one of the world's most unanswerable mysteries."

Corin's eyes glistened when the words were spoken. "Ah yes! I am!" he exclaimed, his serious expression breaking into an excited grin, "are you up for planning their wedding too, then? What do you think they will like? A cheesecake or cranberry pie? I know I'll ma - sorry, order some ratatouille..." Narrowing his eyes, Corin spat merely a few words, "Don't. You. Dare. Say that."

Sighing, she rubbed at her ears, "Again, I'm enjoying my coffee here, it makes it sort of difficult to be cupping my ears." Shaking her head slightly, she glanced down at the table between them.

Glancing back up, she blinked hard, opening her mouth before snapping it closed. Running a hand through her dark locks for a moment, she frowned. "How old are you? Don't you think picking on younger people is just a little cruel?" Rubbing at the side of her head, her frown only deepened. "And if you hate this girl so much, why in the world do you want her as a sister-in law?"

Raising a slight eyebrow, Juliette decided it was better not to burst the Rousseau's bubble and tell him that he'd been joking. He looked so upbeat at the idea of planning his younger brother's wedding. "Wedding planning does sound fun though," she muttered dreamily, eyes glazing over in thought.

Taking a long sip of coffee, she scrutinized the younger boy over her mug, brow creasing. There was something going on here. Maybe the siblings were just fighting, but she couldn't help but think it was more than that. People didn't disown siblings over a little spat. "What happened to you two?" She asked finally, curiosity shining in her green eyes.