500 days of summer - pg13

The party was abysmal, just as she had prospected. A the party was neither hosted or planned by the Uchitel prefect, it was not fun at all. Most of the party goers were German wizarding socialites that did nothing more than sip on glasses of champagne and talk to their friends about who was sleeping with who and who was having an affair with who and whose kid was marrying who and blah blah blah. For a betrothal announcement party, the betrothed were not doing much.

Ashling didn't know why her mother made a big deal of her betrothal to Chuck. The two had vowed to her parents that they were only going to be betrothed for a summer. What with the gigantic party and the matching dressage the former friends had to wear that night suggested otherwise. The only good thing that came out of any of this, the brunette had supposed, was that it was a summer fling without having to be a fling. Strings attached, but at the same time the strings were not attached.

Her brown hair, which usually waved down past her shoulders, had been tied down in a neat bun, with straggles of her falling in irregular spots. The style matched her strapless dress perfectly, though it made her feel as if she was going to a funeral than anywhere else. Her eyes stayed cool, calm, the light flickering nonchalantly off the blue in her irises. Studying the scene, she felt disgusted. She hated being part of this culture. She did. She really did.

In her hand was a glass of water, and though her mother had told her champagne was free, Ashling stayed away from it. If any drama occurred at a high profile party, she wanted to be there to remember it.

"Are there giants too, in the dance?" she hummed to herself, quietly, though after a while her words became able to be heard, "'cause this isn't about life, and life isn't about death."

Her singing grew louder, and the Uchitel threw her glass upwards (and a butler scrammed as he tried to catch it) and on the dance floor, where an open space lay lonely and bare, unoccupied by dancing couples, she ran towards it and began to sing, her voice getting louder and louder as the song she spoke harmonically went on.

"I wonder who decides who wins?" she sang, the other socialites shaking their heads at her attitude, "in which we nod in agreement / who let these sublime people in?"

(ooc:I MISS THIS OUTFIT SHIT. if you need any imagination on her hair, think katniss everdeen during the caesar flickerman show.

song sung at the end: are there giants too, in the dance? by meg & dia)

Charles didn't know that Lena's parents were such trouble. He knew that they were over the top when it came to doing everything. He was only going to be engaged to Lena for a summer and hey presto! They made a huge party that everyone will remember for a long time. He thinks that parties were part of the family. Lena liked parties too a long time ago.

Looks like she still did. She was dancing like a maniac and she was singing a song Chuck had never heard her sing before. It matched her very well, like most of the songs she sings. If there was one thing Chuck didn't like about not being with his betrothed also known as his former best friend it was her voice. When she sang he always felt like smiling because she always looked so happy and he forgot that she carried a lot of burden on her back.

He wanted to wait for her to finish singing until he interrupted, but she was singing so prettily he wanted to join in. He did and he kept getting the words wrong. No matter. He was having fun.

"Are there giants too in the dance?" he yelled. He wished he had his violin with him to make the performance more dramatic.

Ashling frowned at the Hitrost once she had seen him try and sing with her. The revelation of having a singing companion might have thrilled her, but now she had every urge of pushing her former best friend off the damn space. This was her moment, her turn to shine. And there he was, singing along with her, looking as awkward as he could possibly get, and therefore attracting all the attention that could have been focused on her.

She stopped singing, and began to do an impersonation of an air guitar. She swung her arms in sync, her fingers readily strumming her invisible instrument. The brunette rocked her head back and forth, her brown hair whipping and flapping against her face in delayed reaction, creating a breezy, gentle, yet sophisticated aura of the Uchitel. She laughed, and soon she began to sing aloud another song, in English.


She took Charles by the hand, and took him on a whirlwind journey through the waltzing and prancing lessons that she had taken privately, in the confinements of her bedroom very very late at night. She closed her eyes and imagined he was Leon, and was hesitant to bring him around for a spin, letting herself see if he would ever make the first move.

Charles was immediately swooped up into Lena's dancing. He just went along with whatever Lena did because opposing her was a really bad idea. He was just as mad at her parents as she was (though she was doing way better at the Hiding The Emotion game). He put his arm around her waist like a robot because it had been a while since he danced properly.

"Why are you singing this song, Lena?" he asked. He whispered his next few sentences in her ear. "You sang this song when you were seven. I remember that you would come home from school and you would call me on your phone and ask me if I can come to your house and I would say yes and I'd go to your house. You would be singing this song in full volume all the time. It really annoyed me. It still does actually." He looked at the floor and blushed as red as he could after that because Lena would kill him if he didn't.

He then watched tyhe verse end, and he yelled, "Uh, the party has ended! Go home!" He tried to drag the Uchitel into the other end of the room. "We have a lot to talk about, Lena. I don't know why I agreed to doing this marriage-not-marriage game with you but you better tell me why everyone is looking at me like I'm stupid."

Ashling tried to hold back her snide pleasure at Charles's attempt at trying to shoo the party home, but once she saw that most had placed their glasses of champagne on the table and filed out of her house, perhaps his cry of desperation wasn't so fruitless after all.

Heini, clothed in a tight black dress, was already approaching her, probably asking for answers that she would never get. The brown-haired Uchitel glared at her mother, and turned back towards Charles, and immediately she could feel some burden slipping off her shoulders like slippery slimy liquid. Slivers of relief appared across her features, but with a forceful command from her mind they were immediately shut down. Had she let that relief lasted any longer she would have fainted.

"Thank you," she uttered, distancing herself away from the boy. She glanced upwards at him, "What makes you think that someone of your intelligence could possibly understand what goes on behind the scenes of this not-so-worthy organization?"

She pinched his chin, "And I am not Lena. I am Ashling."

Charles didn't know what to say to Lena. No sorry, she was Ashling now. He didn't know why she chose Ashling? It was an English name that sounded very weird on his tongue. He can't just tell her that she should just go back to being called Lena because Lena was her name on her passport and all of her OWL certificates. She can't go around expecting people to call her Ashling.

"Ok, Ashling," he said calmly. "I am not as stupid as I was when I was six. You can tell me why your mother keeps trying to get us to be together and we both know it's not because I love you and you love me because you love Rhys and I love..." He let his eyes go across the room before looking back at the Uchitel. "Ok your mother is obviously not looking out for our best interests. She made you break up with him and made me swear a vow about... I don't remember."

Charles remembered, it was just that he did not want to tell Ashling what it was. "Do you think it's a good idea if we sit outside on the porch and just talk? I know it's not your favourite thing but I need to talk to you. You can pretend oyu don't care but the least you can do is just sit there and do nothing. Sound good?"

Rhys. The mention of his name alone made the pain too much to bear; she had pushed them down deep in her soul for too long. Suddenly her limbs began to droop, and her shoulders began to slouch, and every attempt of straightening herself was too painful. The reality she was looking at seemed to alter: Charles's eyes grew brighter and the chandeliers above her seemed too blinding to glance at, even outside a three-mile radius. It even felt as if she had two hearts. Tap tap tap tap... tap tap tap tap...

"Charles," she began to snarl, crushing the boy's chin between her fingers, "unless you never want to get your limbs cut off, I suggest you never mention Rhys Edmunds in this house ever again. Is that understood?" Before the Hitrost even had a chance to reply, she let his chin go, deciding that he had enough pain for the time being. From her view, it looked unbearably pink.

The brunette frowned, but shrugged her shoulders at his invitation. "I suppose a walk through the universe will do our minds some good," she agreed, looking at Charles in a profound manner, "the sky is clear tonight; perhaps there will be a shooting star in our midst." Ashling finally managed to return to a good posture, though she felt a million pounds heavier than she was five minutes before.

Charles noticed how frail Lena was getting but he was not in the position to ask. She loved him that much still. He didn't know why she kissed Frodo then. Was it a turn of the moment? He will never know, not unless Ashling was Lena again and she was someone that people actually liked. He didn't like this new person that had killed his father, broke up with Rhys, and did not give a damn about anyone.

Ashling let go of his chin and he rubbed it with his fingers. It was going to be a while before it was going to go anywhere near its normal shape. He cursed someone who had never played a two-hour piece in their life for having stronger fingers than he did. "I'm going to do as you ask, Ashling," he said shyly and did not say anymore.

"There will be a shooting star tonight," Charles predicted. "I know there will. We will make a wish that whatever comes in the future we will both end up happy. Does that sound good?" He started to walk to the edge of the room, gesturing for Ashling to come with him.

"Happiness?" frowned the Uchitel, walking towards the Hitrost in a vehement manner, "what makes you think that happiness is something that is so easy to obtain?" She stood close to the Hitrost. "I have lost it a long time ago and I doubt that I will ever regain that privilege of life. Not since... the main source of that emotion has long since gone from my grasp."

Spying Heini Vorstenbach's staring after her, Ashling clutched Charles's hand and placed her lips harshly on his, letting the kiss last long enough to stir his conscious before letting go, grinding her teeth and finally letting a sigh of relief once she saw that her mother had faded into the darkness. Sternly glaring at the Prentiss, she rushed outside without him, sitting on the swing on her garden.

"Well then," she bellowed mockingly, cocking her head to one side in a haughty manner, "why don't you get on here and observe the stars, like you said?" She swung herself back and forth... back and forth... back and forth on the swings.

Charles let Ashling kiss him even if he didn't know why. He didn't really enjoy it because it happened too quickly. When she had let go he noticed Heini going away and he hid his tempting eyebrow roll behind his eyes well. If there was anything that he was still good at, it was acting as if he didn't give a damn in the world. Sometimes it was so difficult.

He wasn't around Liddy and he hadn't been for a long time. He didn't know why he had such a strong urge to lie to Ashling though. She understood him better than most people. Why was he lying to the people that might care about him?

He walked over to the other side of the room and hung around the door. "Are you mad?" he asked Ashling quietly.

Ashling raised her brows when Charles asked her about her temperament, "I'm not mad at you, dear Prentiss, but mad at a certain family matriarch." She shook her head solemnly, "If only you knew the chains behind this little game of ours we're playing... if only... if only... but alas! You are not qualified to know of such matters - not according to the North Rhine Union."

She got off the swing and sat upon the bench that was set close to the house, its rustic aura attracting the brunette to sit there. She looked gently at the Hitrost, and her lips curled into a warm smile.

Charles entered his room. It was officially seven days since the Ball of the Betrothed. They'd been sleeping in separate rooms in large beds and nice decorations. When he decided to turn in early for the night he entered his room and saw his and Ashling's rooms decided to magically merge. He liked it when people did things without his knowledge.

He sat on the bed and wondered what Heini could have in store. Like her daughter, she did not do things if she had no reason to do them. What was the twist in this fairytale? He wondered if his best friend would like to see the changes made to her room. He summoned her, even if something told him that he would regret it.

Ashling found herself being summoned by Charles to enter her chamber. What on earth could be so important as to interrupt her debate session with Leonora Bruckner? Saying sorry to the Squib was as easy as saying hello to a Boggart. Perhaps their session will have to continue some other time.

"This better be good, Prentiss!" she exclaimed haughtily, striding up the stairs as cars carrying her thoughts crashed and burned in her head. She ran towards her door and swung it open, her eyes fiercely holding themselves in an angered furrow.

As she fully comprehended the sight in front of her, she shrieked.

Charles braced himself for Ashling's shriek because he knew it was coming. Even then it still deafened him. It was a wonder that he still managed to hear after it happened. He thanked the air conditioning that happened in the background for helping him to be sure that he could actually hear like a normal person.

"Now do you see what I'm worried about?" Charles yelled. He pointed very extremely at the bed. "I can't sleep in the same bed as you! You'll kick me off in the middle of the night. Like a violin I'm not made to be harshly treated!" He then rolled over so that he was on the middle of the bed. "Look on the bright side, Ashling. The bed is really comfortable and jumpy and stuff."

Ashling rolled her eyes, folding her arms and raising a brow at the Hitrost skeptically. "Oh, I'm forced to sleep with your disgusting face every single night and all you're worried about is how jumpy the bed is!" exclaimed she distastefully. She walked over like a model on a runway she knew like the back of her hand, her strides long and hesitant, her head held up high.

With much resistance, the brunette sat down on the bed, swinging her legs back and forth. "However, you do have a point about its comfort," she agreed, "it does precede that of my original bed." She heard voices coming down the corridor, and her eyes widened in shock.

"Chuck!" she exclaimed, pulling him towards her, "kiss me and be quick!"

Charles smiled when Ashling said she was comfortable on the bed like he was. He knew that she would see things his way. Even if it did look a little fake at least she was trying to please him. She had just called him disgusting but if he was in her position he would call everyone that was not his love disgusting too.

When Ashling pulled him towards her he started getting really confused. "O-ok?" he said, confused. He leaned in towards her and placed his lips on hers as accurately as he can. Charles had to pretend that this was something he wanted to do and not because Ashling heard her mother going down the corridor.

Ashling hated kissing anyone other than Rhys. It always had to be forced and all reactions not her own and three-quarters of the time she was the one initiating it. She had been doing a lot of initiating lately, and all because she was trying to keep her mother in a good mood. However, she believed that she had never went this far.

Until now.

She thrust her lips at his and their lips collided. The brunette placed her arms around his shoulders, holding him close to her so he could not break from her grasp. Having immeasurable experience in the field of fake making out, she ran her hands all over his back: up, down, left, right.

Charles had to separate his mind from his physical self because he could not handle making out for this long and at this intensity. He had never fiercely snogged someone but it looked like Ashling had. Of course. She probably did it all the time when she still had Rhys. (Still had was a wrong phrase, he thought to himself. They had each other until the end of time for all he knew.)

Charles pushed the brunette towards the bed. Only when he was doing it did he realize what he was doing. Inside he felt like screaming. Oh shit oh shit... He couldn't go back unless she wanted to go back. He wished she didn't want this. He wished!

There was a moan that escaped from the brunette's throat as Charles pushed her over, and she still managed to grip him tightly enough to bound him to her for as long as she could manage, which wasn't for very long by the look of it. She needed a gasp in order to refresh herself.

She heard her mother come down in the corridor, and during that saturninity she took a breath and deepened her kiss with the Hitrost, this time trying to bite his tongue.

Charles could hear Heini coming down the corridor and he tried his best not to scream. He decided to keep holding her and allowing her to play this weird game of chasing his tongue. The door went open and there was Heini, shrieking.

"Can you put a notice next time?" shrieked the blonde woman. "I'm glad you two are making progress though." Charles didn't look back but she could feel the woman smirk. He pulled his lip back from Ashling and looked down at her.

Ashling threw Charles anticlockwise, so that she would be the one on top. The girl rested her head on top of the boy's chest, and her brown hair fell his sides as simply as they could possibly flow, like waves lapping against the sandy beaches of tropical countries. Her glance turned into a cold glare, her jaws tightly clenched.

"If you felt that I am close to even loving you in that sod of a make-out," she began, her tone alarming, "then you must throw all those feelings out of the window. Because of you, because my mother is in love with you, I can never love. I can never feel the euphoric joys of such a lucky emotion. Not with anyone who refuses to see my face even if I was Minister of Magic."

Nails clawing into his skin, Ashling pulled back, her body set in a cat-like posture.

Charles looked at Ashling. "You think I feel this? Do you think I feel any of this as any of my own emotions?" I'm just doing what your mother told me to do for God's sake! She told me that I'm supposed to be in love with you for an entire summer! Or at least bear with you! She told me that we could always continued if we wanted!" He threw Lena off him.

"I want to sleep!" he shouted. He then wriggled to the other side of the bed and slept. He was still in his nice suit and he was not in a mood to correct his mistakes.

The breeze was blowing on the roof: tumultuously and erratically. It halted, sat for a few everlasting seconds, and blew past her with such swiftness barely seen by winds in such parts of the world during the warm summers (if they ever happened). Some things, like these, had changed in the few years in the sixth decade of the twenty-first century.

Standing on the roof of the Bad Munstereifel mansion was Ashling, who had been pacing herself for the fast few hours. The sun was not as high in the sky as usual, or at least it seemed not to be, thanks to the breeze. Though the temperatures still hit stifling hotness, not one bead of sweat had formed on the sixteen-year-old's forehead. Perhaps her thoughts had sweated onto themselves, drenching wet with worry and anxiety. The only outward expression that showed that was the furrowed brows, her lips pressing against one another.

She didn't know what she was feeling and she didn't really care.

Ashling turned towards the garden below her. She imagined the ground swallowing her, her mind's eye watching it move upwards because of the laws of physics. She inhaled: exhaled.

She was going to jump.

Charles Prentiss didn't feel very alive anymore. His mother had just died.

Running back to the Vorstenbach Manor after the funeral of someone he was born out of was a difficult thing because he should be grieving. He had no time for that because he had to pretend he was ok because Heini hated him when he was sad and loved to shower him with affection when she thought he was doing badly. Ashling was probably the last person to comfort him but her listening to him was better than no one listening at all. No one excluded Heini because if she listened to him he would not be a happy boy.

It took him a while to find her because she wasn't in the house or in the room they had been sharing for a week. She was not in the library or on the swings. There was no other possible place she could be...

... until he remembered the roof.

He climbed so many stairs to get there. Charles found her standing there and looking at the garden and his mouth fell open. He couldn't believe she would be looking at the ground like that if he understood her well enough. He hoped he still knew some of her if not all.

"Le?" he called. Charles regretted it as soon as he said it.

There was a swift turn of the brunette's head as she heard a call of her old name. A wave of shock passed over her features, her eyes slightly bulging and her lips slightly agape with the childish pleasure they had once glowed with. Warmth shimmered in her midnight eyes, and they turned into stars. Once the wave of shock had dissipated she returned to her distant, cold demeanour she had grown so attached to: a security blanket. She swallowed her pride, and clenched her jaws as she glared at the Hitrost.

"What are you doing here?" she announced sordidly, sternly, "I never gave you permission to - " She interrupted herself and groaned, folding her arms across her chest. "Merlin, you're using my mother to your own little drumbeat, aren't you?"

Ashling paced herself across the roof. Moving left and right. A pattern emerged, though abruptly she decided to circle the brunet. Her feet moved, though her lips did not.

The tension woke the child within her, so suddenly she began to jerk away from her former friend, and chose to sit alone in a corner far away from the future fifth year. She could not bear... she could not... the anger that had been vented towards Charles, she now felt, was unfair. He had not deserved any of her invehement musings or any of her lashings. Nor did he deserve to partake in a game he was not part of either.

But none of these decisions were ones she could choose.