Hidden Secrets & Vulnerability ((Ariane))

[Tristan MacCay]

Ariane,

Meet me at the stature of the one eyed witch. There is something that I want to show you.

Sincerely,
Tristan MacCay

He had discreetly slipped her the note in Transfiguration. A simply folded piece of parchment with blue ink swirling over the yellowy paper. It had to be discreet. Something inside Tristan had told him that things would fall apart completely if he had just walked right up to Ariane and handed her a note in his handwriting. Things had just gotten decent, or at least, to him they had. Ariane wasn't avoiding him anymore, and that alone made him feel slightly better. But at the same time, the confusion that tormented him was nearly as terrible as her avoiding him had been. Tristan wasn't one to get confused over matters such as girls, but this girl had really managed to turn his world upside down. At times, he wasn't happy with that because things were so much easier when he didn't have his brain in a knot over this Gryffindor girl. Other times, though, the feeling he got in his chest when he thought how fiery she was when he aggravated her, the way her face flushed, and her eyes looked at him with refusal, it all made him realize how Ariane Chan was capable of flipping his world upside down.

Then there were the moments when he remembered the times she had been so vulnerable around him, and for once he hadn't been thinking of ways to humiliate this Gryffindor who was notorious for having a Slytherin attitude at times, but rather he had thought about how much he had hoped she would be okay. The times where he had thought about how much it had hurt him when she had avoided him were the times that Tristan had felt most vulnerable.

Tristan didn't like being vulnerable, but Ariane seemed to have the power to break him down to the barest bone, to the most vulnerable portion of who Tristan William MacCay truly was. She had singlehandedly changed who Tristan wanted himself to be and who Tristan had always wanted himself to be. He doubted that Ariane truly knew what power she held over him, and that scared him somewhat. Regardless, he couldn't hide his vulnerability from the person who had him most vulnerable and so he had asked Ariane to meet him at the one eyed witch that was a couple of feet away from the entrance to his hideaway. Aside from Katya, who had hidden there during her third year, no one but himself had been inside. The room was a form of sanctuary for Tristan, a place he could go to escape the person everyone wanted him to be. He didn't share its location with anyone and after Katya hadn't needed the place as a safe haven any longer, Tristan had changed the password. Katya had been slightly disappointed because it had obviously meant Tristan was blocking her out again, but she understood. He needed that alone space. If she found out about him showing it to Ariane, Katya would be absolutely livid. Tristan didn't really care, though. He wanted to share this with Ariane and have a moment to talk to her alone and clear up his confusion.

He was leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest, and his head bowed. He looked like he was dozing, but in actuality he was just listening. He was listening for the sound of approaching footsteps that would signal Ariane nearing him. Finally, there it was. Tristan lifted his life blue eyes to see Ariane Chan walking toward him. Immediately, he smiled at her and pushed himself off from the wall. She didn't seem like she was ecstatic but he hadn't expected her to, he wouldn't be too happy if he had been asked to meet someone there for no obvious reason at all. He walked toward her, closing the small bit of distance between them, and then led her toward the suit of armour that was situated in a small cubby of a wall. He didn't say anything as he knocked on various parts of the armour and then as the armour filed backward and turned into another cubby behind the wall. Tristan smiled secretively over at Ariane and motioned for her to go first, "I'll let you leave whenever you please," he told her quietly so she didn't feel like she was being trapped into something. That was the last thing he wanted.

[Ariane Chan]

It was a fine day. There wasn’t a single hint of the usual English rain against the backdrop of azure despite the drifting whiteness of the clouds that blurred the blue. The sun shone tenderly on the budding trees, signally the start of a warm summer as the animals and insects came to life, stirring out of their winter hibernation. Normally, Ariane would have detested such a view as she stared out of her dormitory window, the pale light filtering across the dirty pane and casting upon flecks of dust hovering in the still air of the room. However, instead of hard, flinty eyes boring across the landscape of Hogwarts, Ariane’s dark pools of brown were calm and serene... almost gentle. A tiny smile nudged her lips, demanding to surface properly – another battle between her heart and her head. Eventually, she turned away and sunk into her bed, staring at the tiny, creased note between her quivering fingertips. Her gaze became softer, but anxiety lined the edges as she read the scrawled words for the thousandth time. ‘Meet me at the stature of the one eyed witch. There is something that I want to show you.’ Her eyes landed on the familiar name of the sender, and again, it made Ariane’s heart leap higher than it had ever leapt before. Ariane wasn’t an emotional or feeling kind of girl, and in all honesty, what Tristan MacCay did to her frightened her immensely. Since their last private meeting, Ariane wasn’t sure if she was even Ariane anymore. She felt like she changed so much, become such a different person, because of this one young man. And Ariane knew, at least a little, Tristan felt the same way. She had read it in his eyes, even if he hadn’t said it out loud; even if she didn’t want to believe it.

Yes, Ariane wanted to see Tristan in secret again; her heart told her so, and usually, Ariane would follow her heart. Only, her head contradicted and argued against it; this was Tristan MacCay, Slytherin and notorious bad boy. He was the last person Ariane would ever kiss, and yet, he had become her first, and she had initiated it. It made her want to bury her head in her hands in shame, blush so much she lost the blood necessary to continue living, and just die. She didn’t know what had possessed her to pull Tristan against her so closely that night, didn’t know why she needed him beside her so intimately so badly. Ariane knew though, that however much she denied it, it had felt right, and that, goddamnit, she had totally fallen for him. It was bad, and Ariane knew that; she hadn’t even told Aurora yet, she was in so much uncertainty. However, she had made up her mind to do one thing, however unsure she was; she was going to meet Tristan today, and see how things panned from there. Ariane didn’t know what to expect, really... after the Courtyard incident at the Ball, she had floated in limbo-land, not sure how to feel or what to do. Thankfully, Tristan had made the first move, otherwise, Ariane would have been stuck forever. Yes, she was bold, but she was also inexperienced and wary, and she needed someone to coax her out of her shell even if she did want something. Tristan’s hand slipping into hers during a Transfiguration lesson had been enough to send a tingle down Ariane’s spine, and having read the note later, she had been secretly, though worriedly, elated. Now that she had made her decision though, she needed to get going, otherwise she would stand him up. And a part of Ariane could not stand that thought; it pained her to think she could cause Tristan any heartache, that he cared that much about her.

In a daze of sorts, Ariane found her body wandering out of her dormitory, through the Common Room, and through corridors towards her destination, the note crumpled in a fisted hand inside her robe pocket. Nervously, she pulled her sleek black hair out of its ponytail, letting it cascade across her shoulders and shield her face somewhat. She didn’t mind as much, feeling exposed with Tristan, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be completely readable to the Slytherin; Ariane still held her heart close to her chest, locked away, and no matter how near Tristan was getting to unlocking the puzzle, she would continue to battle against it until she succumbed completely. Ariane still felt the need to hide some of herself away until she knew Tristan wasn’t going to hurt her. She didn’t want to be stereotypical, but after all, he was a Slytherin, and she was a Gryffindor. If their relationship was heading towards anything romantic, what were the chances of it working out? Yes, it worried Ariane, and yes... she wasn’t sure about it at all. But she couldn’t help but hope, for once.

And there he was. Ariane almost hesitated when she saw Tristan leaning casually against the wall, waiting for her arrival. However, she steadied her increasing heart rate and quickly stepped up towards him with a poker face, desperate to appear composed and still a little of her indifferent outer self. Tristan’s eyes were on hers, and immediately Ariane could tell he was staring into the windows of her soul like she was an open book, and grew frightened again. Was this the right decision after all? Yet, she remembered what it felt to let someone in; to let Tristan in; and it had felt so warm and wonderful. Such a large part of Ariane wanted that to continue, wanted it to last. And so she remained silent and unnerved as Tristan approached her, and without speaking, began to lead towards the suit of armour where he had previously been standing. Ariane was unsurprised as it opened up to reveal a small room, but when Tristan motioned for her to enter first, she cast him a slightly cautious glance. It looked enclosed, like a trap, and Ariane, although not claustrophobic, did not appreciate small spaces. As though sensing her apprehension, Tristan spoke, his voice calm and reassuring. Finally, Ariane nodded. She trusted him, but she didn’t know why. It was something natural, and she knew that if she wanted to understand what was happening between them, this was utterly necessary. Gingerly, Ariane stepped into the room, waiting for Tristan to follow. Finally, when the doorway was sealed, leaving just the two of them alone together, she turned to him with guarded, but trusting eyes, about a metres’ distance between them. “Where are we?” She tilted her head and managed a small, amused smile. “And why have you brought me here?” Ariane liked getting to the point, and she hoped Tristan wouldn’t mind. He’d just have to get used to it if this was going to last.

[Tristan MacCay]

It was nice that she went in without question or argument. Of course, he knew that wouldn’t last very long in the least. The moment she had stepped into the small corridor and the passageway had closed behind them, she turned on him and asked where they were and why he brought her there. There was a smile on her face, though, and Tristan took that as a rather good sign. He chuckled and turned her around gently, his hands on her shoulders as he steered him closer into the large opening. The room was one that Tristan adored. It was his own private sanctuary that, in a way, proved to be useful in many ways. It was hidden, so no one could find him, and it was large so he could screen movies here, edit them, or just… do whatever he pleased. It wasn't like the room of requirement in the sense that it could give you anything you needed – but that was okay, because everything Tristan needed he had with him. They stepped into the opening and Tristan moved to stand close beside her as she looked around the large room.

The room was well lit with candelabras all around the walls, which were circular. In the centre of the room was a large white sheet that hung from the ceiling magically suspended in the air. Right now, nothing was being played onto it, but Tristan would fix that sooner or later. There were two large armchairs facing the sheet with a table in between. The table, which was usually empty, held two covered silver dishes, two wine glasses with sparkling butterbeer, and a single red rose between the two. His blue eyes looked over at Ariane before he waved his arm in front of her, gesturing to the room and its contents, "Welcome, to the Batcave." His smile twitched at his lips and he led her over to the armchairs, "It's not really a batcave… actually, it's just a place I go to get away from my fan club." He smirked here as he started to set up a wizard style of a muggle projector. There wasn't much of a difference between a muggle projector and a wizard one except that the wizard one took a crystal instead of film as a muggle one would. Tristan preferred film, but the muggle projector needed electricity – not something easily come by at Hogwarts. As he began to set up the wizard projector, popping in a crystal version of Casablanca. It had cost him extra to get a muggle movie on a wizarding crystal – but Tristan had all of the classics on crystal.

As the movie began, Tristan took his seat opposite Ariane and smiled at her; "You're here, because…well…you've had dinner, and I'm sure it was positively marvellous – but you haven't had dessert; at least, not any good dessert. Therefore, I bring you here… and dare you to try my…" With a swift move, Tristan uncovered the dish in front of Ariane. On it sat a slice of chocolate cake, sprinkled with powder sugar, and a single strawberry. Tristan set the lid aside and then uncovered his, as well. "And… if I'm being completely honest with myself, and with you… I brought you here because I would like to get to know you a little bit better, to stop this running race in my head over what is going on between us, and because I know that this place is the one place we won't be disturbed." His eyes locked onto hers, hoping she'd sense his honesty. In the background, the beginning of Casablanca was playing, but Tristan barely noticed it. After a moment or so, he nodded to the cake, "Take a bite… tell me what you think."

Not many knew that Tristan MacCay could cook. It wasn't something he broadcasted around the school. Truth be told, though, Tristan was pretty much independent. His family never was around to take care of him, so he took up cooking on his own. He made sure to make good things otherwise he wouldn't eat. Of course, he could always go out to eat – but even that got boring on his own. He started to take girls out to eat, but that got to be pricey and well…in all honesty… Tristan couldn't stand half the girls he would take out. He cooked for himself now, and that was all – but he had convinced the house elves to let him use their kitchen (it wasn't very hard) and he came up with this. Which was exactly what he had wanted. A perfect cake. Now, if Ariane thought it was perfect – that'd make everything great.

[Ariane Chan]

Ariane looked around her with unhidden awe written on her face. She absorbed it all in silence, her expression fixed. Her eyes were finally drawn to the single rose in the middle of the table, and she felt her chest constrict –painfully, but Ariane couldn’t put her finger on whether or not it made her miserable or happy. Finally, Tristan broke the silence with an introduction, and Ariane found a smile slipping easily to her lips. Her chest still hurt, but she ignored it as she turned to look at him whilst he explained the meaning behind the hideout. “Tristan...” she managed to say quietly, before realising she couldn’t find her voice, nor could she form any coherent words; Ariane was truly blown away – speechless – at Tristan’s... surprise. He’d certainly succeeded in that aspect. She let him lead her to one of the armchairs, and sat down in it stiffly. She watched in continuing silence as he began to set a muggle projector up – where had he gotten that from?! – and sat as still as a statue, searching in some desperation at what she should say to him. Once he had completed his task, Tristan moved to sit opposite her, and Ariane found herself swallowing thickly. She had never felt so nervous all her life. She wasn’t on edge – she didn’t feel uncomfortable, but she was so scared of how to act and what to say. In a way, she didn’t want to disappoint Tristan after he had gone to such lengths; after he had revealed one of his closest secrets, she was sure.

Ariane sat, dumb (for probably the first time in her life), as Tristan began unveiling dessert and explaining the reasoning behind it. She stared at the chocolate cake, the soft texture of the sponge, the crimson of the strawberry, and felt her eyes sting just as painfully as her chest. Tristan had no idea that, secretly, her favourite dessert was chocolate cake; and yet, it was also something she had once despised. It reminded her of a happy childhood, when her mum and dad and Harmony would go to the local park on a sunny summer day and eat homemade chocolate cake. Lorraine was... had been a brilliant cook, and she knew the dessert was her eldest daughter’s favourite. They had sat on the lush green grass and laughed the afternoons away, running to play on the swings with Harmony, pushing her little sister higher and higher into the air. But, for almost a decade, Ariane had come to hate chocolate cake with a passion; it brought back painful memories of what once was and could never be. The chocolate had merely left a bitter taste in her mouth. Swallowing again, her mouth dry, Ariane’s moist eyes glanced up at Tristan, away from the dessert. She didn’t hate chocolate cake anymore, not since the recent incidents with her father, but she hadn’t eaten a slice since... since forever. She craved the sweet taste, which had been mocking her for so many years.

"Take a bite… tell me what you think."

Ariane looked back at the cake, before nodding slowly. She picked up her fork and cut into it, the crumbling texture of the sponge giving way to the polished metal. Ariane’s breath caught in her throat as sprinklings dusted the plate, and the strawberry fell from its position on the top. Blinking, she gradually began to take a small portion of just the cake, and lifted it to her mouth. However, her hand came to a shaky halt just before it reached her lips, and Ariane glanced up uncertainly at Tristan, looking for some... something. She found it in his eyes, sparklingly honest and kind, and Ariane decided, then and there, that she would trust him. Opening her mouth, she placed the cake inside, and clamped her teeth shut.

It tasted like chocolate – sweet, heavenly, delicious – and it melted in her mouth like ice cream. The richness of the flavour was just right – not too sweet and not too bitter. Slowly devouring the tiny slice, Ariane’s eyes met Tristan’s once more. Sincerity and a genuine desire to please burned her retinas, and again, she felt her eyes well up with unwanted tears. How many times had this boy brought her to breaking point in the last few weeks? More than anyone else had in her lifetime. Ariane had never almost cried so much, especially not in front of someone – not even in front of Harmony and Aurora. Blinking furiously as she set her fork down, fingers gripping the metal tightly, she swallowed and tried to say something. Her mouth opened, but no words came forth. However, seeing the confused look on Tristan’s face, Ariane was determined to say something, and finally managed to choke out in a whisper, “It’s perfect.”

A tear slipped down her cheek, gathering on the edge of her chin. Ariane struggled to control herself, but the taste of the sweet chocolate lingering on her tongue made the feelings in her chest evermore painful. She wasn’t crying from the pain though; not physically, because it didn’t physically hurt her that much. Ariane was crying because of the emotional pain that thumped in her heart, filling her senses to block out everything – from the beauty of the room to the film rolling in the background – everything but Tristan himself, and the taste of the chocolate cake. Finally she gathered herself, composing her stature to look up at Tristan steadily again. The tear stain was still fresh against her cheek, but she ignored it, barely realising it remained there. “Did you make that yourself, MacCay?” she found herself saying in a humoured tone, “I didn’t know you cooked.” Tilting her head to one side, Ariane let a sigh escape, before resting her unstained cheek against her palm, her hand picking up the fork again. “I’m sorry about before,” Ariane started quietly, looking at the cake as she began to cut another piece, “I just... couldn’t find anything to say. I was... surprised.” She gave a somewhat pained smile. “In a good way. You surprised me. I don’t deserve this. This is all... lovely.” Ariane dropped her fork for a moment to stretch it across the table, gingerly putting it on top of Tristan’s, aware of the intimacy of the action, but knowing she had to make it up to Tristan for her lack of works and varying emotions, as well as this entire setup, and the fact she kind of... wanted to too. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Believe me,” she murmured softly.