where do we go from here? --- ana ♥

[THURSTON alcott]

I'M YOURS IN THE SWEETEST SURRENDER The Words: 658 The Outfit: none The Notes poor alcott ‘You! Blonde boy… I want you to sort everything on this table out, please… do it before you leave’ Professor strutted outside of the classroom, with nothing but the clicking sound of his sole shoes tapping against the marbled floor. Alcott had been here for quite a six hours period and he was weary enough to just lay himself sprawled on the surface before even thinking of arranging the set his lousy professor had left for him. As the most dedicated student, he had stayed a bit longer than the rest to finish the sketching – it was an assignment, though with Beauxbatons at dawn and School-Arts at dusk, he was bound to find no time to muster for any activity. Alcott inhaled deeply, his gaze fell down to the floor as he sighed and beheld at his work of art. The sketch was of a fruit bowl, with some shadow and light exercises for them to exert their perspective focus – Alcott mastered them all in no time, so it seemed amusing for the professor to make it a bit tougher to him. Not only he needed to draw and etch each of the fruits, but he had to make it seem almost as if it was a photograph. The more he strived, the less real it seemed, and it was because he was accustomed to simple drafts and not minding what he was doing – pure talent. They said you need a bit of reality struck to realise when you want something so much. Alcott mused for a second then he rummaged inside his pockets to know whether it was there or not. The wand, prohibited outside school had been deliberately forgotten by his desk back at home, because he knew it would only be prejudicial to him to employ it – whatever the reason, or the circumstances. He took a hand to his forehead and breathed in deep – oh how he needed it, direly. Glancing at his watch, he gave a cursory look at the time – it was fifteen minutes past seven, and the weariness notion was overpowering his will. Nonetheless, the bloke sorted his items with his hands, like any other muggle would, tugging them inside his fabric artist tools belt, folding it to one side and to the other until it was a slender lump he could easily toss inside his satchel. He then picked the littered material, wiped the floors and marched with his satchel slung over his shoulder to the very entrance of the school. Adapting to a muggle life was not being easy, whilst you were somehow used to magic now. The easy chores were a bother now, and the distance gaps were endless in comparison. The bus ride home was forty five minutes long and there were no actual stops to take a leak until the very stop, that was fifteen minutes away from their flat. Alcott sighed and closed his lids, for a moment, the only thing he wished for was arriving back at home and seeing his newly wed – it sounded queer in his mind, but somehow he downed his eyes to the ring on his hand and it made him grin widely. He got off from the taxi, which he generously tipped – he had forgone the currency and its actual value. “Keep the change” he said as he stepped on the block and watched the vehicle leave. Alcott opened a small wrought door and let himself in before the whole aspect of the wrecked and almost devoid of living beings edifice vanished and was replaced with a lovely, modest, yet stylish home. Alcott & Ana had been gifted a 2 stories cosy mansion after the wedding; somewhere where he could pretend to have a muggle kind of livelihood without rousing suspicions. Alcott chuckled as he twitched the door knob and let himself inside. “Finally…” it escaped him as he slipped into the living room and slouched on the nearest sofa. created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL

[anastasia thurston]

Despite her days returning to normal, Anastasia was still adapting to the evening routine she had started to follow ever since returning to Beauxbatons. While the rest of her house headed down from the dormitories for dinner, Ana found herself departing the school site - via either apparition or portkey, whichever felt easiest - and returning to her new home in Rue de Paradis. It definitely made the days feel longer, more tiring as well, but it was worth it to see her husband in the evenings. It still felt weird, in her mind at least, to refer to Alcott as her husband; even weirder still was the change of surname, from Knowles to Thurston. Not that it was a bad change, Anastasia just found herself, more often than not, having to correct herself in both speech and writing. 'It'll come with time,' she pondered to herself as she tugged her grey coat onto her arms over her outfit before buttoning up the front, watching herself in the floor length mirror in her dormitory. Ana found herself adjusting a few strands of her curled, flowing hair before grabbing her bag and school books and leaving the room - waving a quick goodbye to Jenna as she closed the door behind her. She did miss spending the evenings with Jenna and Kabriel, but Anastasia made sure that she spent enough time with them during the day to make up for her absence from the dorm at night and over weekends.

Reaching the main entrance hall, Anastasia glanced across into the grand hall whose doors laid open opposite to the main entrance - the strong smell of freshly cooked food filled her lungs in one breath. She stopped herself from going in, turning her back to the temptation and faced the large portrait that coated the wall just by the main door that lead out into the cold night. Ana knew it was getting late and didn't really fancy the long walk down into Detaillant just to apparate home. Instead, the brunette reached up on her tiptoes - stretching her arm up far enough to reach the wing of the highest horse portrayed in the painting. With just one touch, Anastasia found herself whisked from her place in the castle and, moments later, landed in a secluded area of Joli Park. Her new home wasn't far away from the portkey's destination - a blessing really on a late, cold, January night. Anastasia didn't fancy arriving home frozen after walking for miles as much as she wasn't interested in the stroll down to Detaillant in the first place. Pulling the books closer to her chest, she started walking through the trees - heading to the northern exit of the park.

The journey home only took about fifteen minutes but Anastasia was desperate to get home as fast as possible - half because it was cold and the other half being her rumbling stomach that had been her soundtrack to her walk home. Turning the last corner, a smile grew on her face as she took the last few steps up the road towards her new home she shared with Alcott. The house itself had been a present to the pair of them following the summer wedding and, after seeing the home for the first time, Ana had fallen head over heels with it. Although it was much larger than the house she had grown up in, and reminded her more of the Thurston manor rather than her family home, she had grown to accept it as her own, rather than just comparing it to others. Pausing for a second on the pavement, the brunette looked up that the house - a confused look on her face. 'I didn't leave the lights on...' Ana pondered, a smile growing on her face as it dawned on her. Alcott was home. With a bright smile, she hopped up the few stairs and, pulling the key from her pocket, unlocked the door.

Depositing her books and her bag down on the table near the front door, Anastasia removed her coat and hung it up on the empty peg before quietly taking her shoes off, putting them next to Alcott's. With a smirk, the brunette crept down her own hallway and poked her head around the front room door - her eyes landing on Alcott, facing away from her and the door. He'd obviously not heard her come in. On her tiptoes, she slid her way into the room and managed to shuffle behind the sofa he was on without him noticing. In one swift movement, Ana quickly placed her cold palms over his eyes before planting a kiss on the top of his head, ”Guess who!"

[THURSTON alcott]

I'M YOURS IN THE SWEETEST SURRENDER The Words: 658 The Outfit: none The Notes poor alcott There was nothing as irenic as the comfy niche where your back moulds perfectly to the cushions and your head is not nor slant nor vertical but slightly cocked backwards, with your craned neck adjusting to the position. It is a posture that little by little lullabies you, and somehow the humming sound of your breathe is soothing alone to make you doze off. Alcott was charged with too much exhaustion to mind a nap, as when plunged into such a mollified state, he could only close his lids and let the rhythm of his breathing eased him. Everything inside the house was new. Even when Alcott reprimanded his father for spoiling them in such lush lifestyle, he only simpered at him with a grateful ‘I believe I am wealthy enough to know what I destine my earnings at… don’t you think so, Alexandre?’ to a statement that Alcott had nothing but a smile in return. Rupert knew that Alcott had condoned him long ago for the muggle livelihood he had offered him, with the covert magic that the family enclosed, though it was his manner to stay there and to prove himself a good father, and he wouldn’t interfere with his stubbornness. Even when he did want to rebuke the ostentatious idea, he could revel in the cosy household provided until he was able to afford his own. Alcott let an intake of oxygen, flooding his lungs with it and bloating his chest to then release it all smoothly and slowly through his parted lips. Some clicking sounds beset him, but he was too immersed in his thoughts to heed them. The door swung open, but it didn’t reach his ears as they seemed blocked along with his blank mind. It wasn’t until he felt a pair of silky hands around his head that a huge grin spread across his features. ‘Guess who!’ the dulcet tones of his beloved Ana. “Mmm… let me see… I think I gave Tristan the keys to the place… but the kiss… this is odd” he muttered, but he chuckled eventually, unable to contain the laughter that grappled around him. He groped with his hands, fumbling about the ones that clogged his sight. They were tender, quite smaller and there was a thin ring that coiled one of the fingers, just like the one in his. “Whoever it is… you must hurry, because my wife could be here at any minute now” he nibbled his lip slightly as he laughed, he then grasped one of the hands and took it to his lips to kiss it. “You are home…” he craned his neck backwards so his eyes would meet hers with, along with the grin, “How was your day, sweetie?” nothing like a bit of jesting, feigning a regular conversation on a married couple to start off from. created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL

[anastasia thurston]

As she wandered down the roads of Rue de Paradis under the night sky, Anastasia tugged her coat closer to her body in order to try and keep warm. It may have not been cold enough for the ground to become coated in snow, but it was definitely cold enough for shivers to run down Ana’s spine. She may have lived in both France and London, and experienced their idea of a cold winter, but Anastasia was most definitely more suited to the sunshine and warmth of summer. After all, she did have an aversion to coats; she had lost count how many times Alcott had donated his own to keep her warm. Despite the cold weather, she couldn't deny the fact that she enjoyed the strolls back home. It gave Ana a chance to relax and take sometime to herself to reflect and recover on the events since the wedding. The past few months had been some of the best of her life, but has passed like a blur in front of her eyes. Before she knew it, she was back in Beauxbatons with her friends, almost like nothing had changed since she had left.

Ana tried to keep the noise to a minimum as she unlocked the front door, sliding inside before locking it behind her. She knew it was impossible to sneak in completely; the house was too quiet to even get away with the smallest noises like the lock on the door or her heels on the solid wood floor beneath her feet. The only way she could get away with it was if he was asleep which, statistically, was not going to be the case. Depositing the books she had brought home down on the table without taking another step, Ana quickly removed her heels from her feet - losing about three inches of height at the same time - followed by her coat. Anastasia quickly adjusted her curls, bringing them back under control after walking through the blustery, winter winds that brushed through the town. With a smirk resting on her lips, she started making her way through the quiet house in search of her husband.

As soon as Anastasia covered Alcott's eyes with her slightly chilled hands, she knew that she was in for a witty response. She knew Alcott too well, especially his sarcastic, witty sense of humour she had loved since day one. Ana tried not to giggle as he started guessing who it was behind him, almost like she didn't think he knew. "Nope," she replied, holding back the giggles, as he guessed Tristan, "Remind me to tell him you think he sounds like a girl next time we see him, okay?" Although he couldn't see her, Anastasia stuck her tongue out before resting her chin on top of his head. She watched with a smile as he lifted his hands to hers, his fingers running along the back of her hands before one encountered the ring on her left hand. Ana felt herself blush as his lips brushed one of her hands, moving her head from it's resting place on top of his as he looked up at her. Simulating the beaming grin on his lips, Anastasia planted another kiss on his forehead before nodding, "It's good to be home."

"How was my day?" Ana repeated the question as she gently removed her hands from his grasp, squeezing out from behind the sofa on which he sat. As she thought of a response, she made her way around the end of the sofa and almost fell onto the empty seat next to her husband, curling her legs up onto the seat with the rest of her body as she got comfy. "Hmm..." Anastasia pondered as she looked up at Alcott, smiling at him as she pondered, "... same old, same old I guess." Nothing like using the most dull and uninspiring way to answer a question. "It was okay on a whole," Anastasia quickly added to her previous comment, "I feel like I could sleep for England though." With a sigh, Ana rested her head down on Alcott's shoulder before looking back up at him. "How about you, dear?" she questioned, adding the 'dear' in response to his 'sweetie', "They didn't work you too hard this evening, did they?" Her second query was more of a rhetorical question; Anastasia could tell, despite his smiles, that he was tired. "I don't know how you manage both art school and classes," she commented honestly as she placed her hand on top of his, "But I'm glad you're doing what you want to."

[THURSTON alcott]

I'M YOURS IN THE SWEETEST SURRENDER The Words: 658 The Outfit: none The Notes poor alcott The sweetest remark pricked his ears when the giggles came finally from her lips. Alcott knew how to bemuse his wife, and seeming an artful entertainer he was aware of what buttons to press in order to grant mirth and joyful moments to her. Anastasia hadn’t exactly complained about it throughout the time and he didn’t think she would either. The irony impressed in his words was such that she even had to recall the idiocy of Tristan acknowledged as a female voice impersonator. Alcott’s lips cracked and he laughed quite loudly with a boisterous laughter that made his tummy ache from the effort. “Best we tell him before his lady does” he complemented, with the shy row of teeth barely displaying through. “I wage she wouldn’t let it pent up” he sniggered almost deliberately, neglecting the pretty conspicuous reprimanding deadpan face on his beloved one. It was often of Alcott’s pleasures to take the mick out of his cousin, in order to make it up for all the countless occasions in which he had somehow outmatched him in pretty much everything concerning the two of them – barring anything that involved drafting or sketching. The bloke stretched out a little when she received him with a kiss on the forehead. How long it had been since that very kiss at the wedding where they had affirmed their vows and put on the rings that united them eternally (as a figure of speech), at least for a living. He closed his eyes as she did so and basked in the moment, for the most succinct it actually was. “It is good to be home, indeed” he nodded and watch her making her way eschewing the couch to take a seat beside him. She seemed to be mulling on the question he made, with the blatant intromission of ‘sweetie’ in the sentence. Out of the diversion it meant, Alcott would hardly refer to Anastasia like that, since it was almost old-fashioned and quite rare in his vocabulary – nevertheless, no one could take out the fun of employing it occasionally with absurdity. Alcott let her through and he even hoisted his arm so it would wrap around her like a coat, pulling her close by the time she was settled down at his side. ‘Same old? I thought this was new’ he squinted, his eyes flooded with disbelief, until he noticed she was playing along with the old-married-couple joke. He cocked his head gently to make some space for her when her own rested on his shoulder, waiting a bit before resting his own on hers, fumbling about with his hand until he found hers to intertwine them. Alcott chuckled lightly “I would sleep for England and France” he smiled as he began toying with his fingers on her palm. Then he felt the notion of her gaze aimed right at his, darting his attention hither, letting her finish her speech before he spoke “Rupert once told me I needed to put myself together if I ever wished to achieve anything in life” he rolled his eyes lightly, he noted he was quoting Mr Thurston. He shook his head and stowed a gentle soft kiss on Anastasia’s lips. “A hardship, must dare saying…” he could rant on it, but he composed himself before doing it, “… I seem most appealing to the task of scouring the room when everyone’s away” he quipped, some funny hint hidden, “That moody professor of Introduction à Illustration et objetua projection” he managed in his mostly rustic sloppy French. In spite of his stay, he hadn’t quite mastered the language. “But I had Charming morning though” the term was referred to his Charms lesson, which actually served him as distraction. created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL

[anastasia thurston]

Anastasia couldn’t help but oblige as Alcott raised his arm slightly as she took her seat on the sofa next to him. She shuffled up closer to him, leaning against his side as she snuggled up to him. Although Ana enjoyed any time that she got to spend with her now-husband Alcott, her favourite times had to be the ‘snuggle and chat’ combination; there was just something about the comfort and closeness that made her feel happy. “England and France?” she repeated, leaning up slightly to look at him, “You’d never wake up at that rate, dear!” Anastasia smiled at him before returning to her previous position with her head on his shoulder, allowing his head to return as well after she had leant up. “Well, I’ll be France, you be England, we’ll see who wins,” Anastasia suggested light-heartedly with a smirk and a giggle to accompany. As he spoke about his father and her new father in-law, Ana sat up to face Alcott with a smile which only grew as she felt his lips on hers. “Your father is definitely something when it comes to his words of wisdom, I’ll give him that,” she commented with a smile. Although she had originally panicked when it came to meeting the rest of his family, particularly Rupert, Anastasia had definitely grown to like him and the memorable quotes.

Rather than interjecting Alcott's rambling with small quips, Ana twisted a small piece of her loosely curled hair around her finger as she listened carefully. The idea of attending both Beauxbatons and art school at the same time, in Anastasia's mind, was something she would find crazy and tiring. She believed that this was one of the strongest reasons why she was proud of Alcott's decision; his determination and commitment to both his areas of study, no matter how difficult the classes were or (by the sounds of it) how grumpy the teachers were. She smiled up at him, softly running her fingers up and down the back of his hand as he spoke. "At least you found some positives during the day despite your professor," Ana spoke in response with a reassuring smile, "I'm sure not all the teachers will be like that, though. Just look forward to the nice ones." Anastasia spoke from experience, not at Beauxbatons, but at the muggle school she attended after her father's passing. To be honest, it was the moody teachers there that she had to thank for her quick return to Beauxbatons only three months later.

For a moment, the pair seemed to sit in silence - Anastasia enjoying her husband's company more than anything else. She obviously couldn't speak for Alcott but she felt, after a long day, there was nothing better to relieve any pent-up stress than spending time with the ones you love. A sigh escaped her lips as she sat up on the sofa in an attempt to not fall asleep right there and then. Running her fingers through her hair to brush it out of her face, Ana glanced across at him with a smile. "Have you had dinner yet?" she questioned, interrupting the silence without any warning, "I'm tempted to go make some for myself." Sitting still for a moment after she had finished speaking, Anastasia carefully slid out of Alcott's arm and made her way to her still aching feet. She turned back to face him, before offering out her hand towards him with a beaming smile, "If you come with, I might just be nice enough to make some for you too..." Although she was after some company while she cooked, the temptation of food would hopefully encourage him to tag along.

[THURSTON alcott]

I'M YOURS IN THE SWEETEST SURRENDER The Words: 658 The Outfit: none The Notes poor alcott Alcott assayed her expression as she looked back at him with a quite stumped tinge upon her features, along with the phrases that seemed to escape her lips with the traces of smile that were inherent to Anastasia’s personality – how he cherished such traits of her. The bloke wiggled his head sideways in denial with a chuckle as she indicated how grave was that slumber of his, which would prevent him from awakening. He received her in his arms just when she pulled back to his embrace, still riveting her attention on his bluish gaze, the winning comment ensued. Alcott laughed lightly deviating his sight as he closed his lids because of laughter and after a whit or so of mirth, he reopened them and darted it towards his beloved wife, “ I simply adore the fact you picked France over England…” he pulled her closer as he kissed her forehead softly. “ Well… you know England… tossers could be lazy as sloths if they intend to…” he summed up, a glowing smile lighting up his factions, “ …French are too posh to afford inactivity… their fancy perfumes and clothing won’t do by themselves” he quipped, in the most know-it-all sort of mood he could feign. It was always a bemusing activity to contradict her, just for the fun of it. “Wisdom? … Rupert is anything but wise” Alcott still rebuked the idea of giving his father some credit for what he had been forged into, as it was bit of a merge between the teachings he had been instructed with and his very own essence imbedded into it. “ …Mr Thurston’s heap of quotes is grand, indeed… I might write them down someday” he muttered, almost as if meditating over something regarding the matter. It was true that Rupert spoke words of wisdom quite seldom, though that didn’t convert him a sage. “… a long list to recall… ” Alcott’s eyes widened as he his eyes fixed on a distant point, as though he was in a dire need of reminiscing. Alcott loved ranting as long as it didn’t feel like it. The sod was not a man to weep on his issues and personal conflicts but to learn from them and to just vent a little to release the tension – Anastasia was plenty aware of it, and it was one of the principal reasons behind she was his sole and only confident soul. She was the secrets coffin where he could posit as much as he wanted, knowingly she was only there to listen and to understand for whatever he was going through. “ … He just loves to push me… ” he sighed and then just laughed at it, in awareness that he didn’t mean any wrong to it, but to reinforce his character and to grow and develop his artistic skill – Art teachers were frequently harsher than normal ones, because they could see through you in manners others couldn’t. “ … He calls me esquisse which is French for draft… ” he smiled brightly at her, taking his index finger to his lips as he began nibbling on it, just slightly – a quite recent quirk of his, “ … You are not finished yet… you are the outline of something, Mr Thurston… ” he quoted aloud, referring to the very first lesson they had. With his head rested neatly upon hers, he felt secure and he could wash away the angst and flustering affairs of the day and leave them all behind him, just seated with her, as it sufficed for a livelihood. Although the moment was beautiful, she straightened on her seat, perhaps driven by starvation that consumed her. Alcott arched a brow with a thoughtful expression, ‘Am I?...’ hungry was not enough to describe how at the verge of inanition he was at. “As much as I could sleep for England… I think I could eat for it, as well…” he let her slip away off his arm to stand up in front of him, out jutting her hand to him. Alcott grinned as he slouched backwards, craning his neck towards the cushioned back of the seat before grasping her hand with his as he leapt to the floor, landing faultlessly with both feet, beside her. He then made her twirl slightly as he embraced her from the back, wrapping both arms around her waist. “ Off we go, then…” he waited for her to move, advancing along her, mimicking the movement of a toy with firm and inflexible legs as he shifted with her in the kitchen’s direction. created by ADE! Pb-ified by WILL