Forever I will be... forever, faithfully. {Clare}

[Søren Oden Karkaroff]

Whispers of a life, in one breath you'd be
Everything I am, you saved me...

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Søren was a bundle of nerves. He could feel the constant heat of blush in his cheeks, and the heat seemed to radiate right off of him. He hoped and prayed that he looked alright. The task of looking good for her had caused him to gain ten more pounds of muscle, spend over $900 on designer clothing, not to mention the time he'd spent in the salon with those fussy old buzzards pawing on his hair.

He felt fake. He hoped she wasn't so superficial, but he knew that human females were fickle. He wasn't used to dealing with them. Human females were extremely dynamic, and an entirely gray area. The only female contact that he'd ever had with with females of his own kind, and they were wild, unkempt and sadistic individuals. They were only interested in blood and sex, and though Søren was more than capable of satisfying those needs, he longed for something more.

The girls at Durmstrang had been extremely fickle. If a boy was handsome, well dressed and witty, all of the girls lined up, fawning over him like he was a shiny new toy. And then, when an even more handsome, well dressed and witty male came along, they would drop the old for the new and move on. Søren hoped deep inside himself that Clare was not this way. But he could only draw from what he knew, so he tried to set himself up as someone handsome and well-dressed, occasionally witty. So far, it was working. Several females in The Three Broomsticks gave him meaningful glances and he'd entered.

But his eyes were not for them. His mind was on Clare. She hadn't arrived yet. Søren twirled the single long stemmed rose he'd bought for her in his fingers. He'd enchanted it, so that it would stay bloomed and perfect. He shook the snow from his hair and his jacket, and made his way to a booth in the corner of the establishment. It wasn't as crowded as usual, which Søren was thankful for. The swirling of pheromones in the air made him dizzy sometimes. He took off his jacket, and straightened his shirt.

He sat facing the doorway, so he would see Clare the moment she arrived. A barmaid cozied up to his table. "What can I get for ya, hun?" she asked, popping her gum. She was busty and small, and she resembled the Celtic Brigid.

"Just a butterbeer for me, thank you."

"Comin' right up for ye, love."

Søren smiled at the woman, causing her to blush. She turned away back to the bar. He was left to his quiet.

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[Clare Smart]

Somewhere after midnight in my wildest fantasy

Clare knew it was rather cold outside, but that hadn't stopped her from wearing the white eyelet sleeve blouse and matching skirt she loved so much. She'd just thrown a floor-length white jacket over it and called herself warm. She wore little white heeled boots that she had to beg her mother for; her mother had frowned at the price, but had owled them to her only the night before. It had been easy to convince her when she confessed it was for a date. So delighted by this, her mother had thrown in some soft white gloves. To spice it up a little, she'd wrapped her hair up into a chignon, adding a red fabric flower. Now she was certain she wouldn't fully blend into the snow if she fell into a snowdrift.

Luckily for the Ravenclaw, she didn't have any impromptu meetings with the snowdrifts on the way to Hogsmeade. She slipped into the Three Broomsticks, gratefully dry. Not exactly warm though, due to the fact she was wearing a skirt. Maybe it was the best of choices, but what could she do? She wanted to look pretty and feminine for him. She couldn't quite explain it, but she was very drawn to him. She had nearly yelled yes at him, but managed to quell it, reasoning with herself that he'd run away.

Scanning the room, she spotted Søren. He looked so different. Not that it was a bad thing; he looked quite good. She would tell him so if it ever came up. Nervous now about how she looked, she approached him gradually. Once she gotten to the table, she smiled at him. "Hello."

[Søren Oden Karkaroff]

I'm for you - and I'm dying for your love
I'm for you - and my heaven is wherever you are...

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It was if an angel had stepped through the door. Søren felt the chorus inside his heart hit a crescendo at that very moment, and his nerves vanished in a swell of euphoria that overcame him. She was absolutely beautiful. Søren's entire face lit up, and he was so high into the heavens with delight that he was sure he could never come back down again.

The entire world just suddenly seemed to make sense in that single moment of Clare's arrival. Life, it's meaning... his purpose. He felt himself rise from his seat, with surprised ease, to greet her. He noticed her care in approaching him. Oh my, what if I've done too much? He took her hand in his and softly kissed it. Her skin was so warm... so smooth... so soft.

"Clare, I'm so glad you came." He suddenly wondered if he was gushing. Surely she could see the happiness radiating off of him. He helped her out of her coat. Her sweet, fragrant scent washed over him, renewing his euphoria. She sat gracefully in the spot across from him. He handed her the rose. "I wasn't sure what flowers you like... what can I grab you to drink?" He signaled the barmaid.

[Clare Smart]

Notice me, take my hand

Once she touched the velvet rose, she felt colour flood her cold cheeks. She supposed it wasn't too noticeable since the cold had been biting at these aforementioned cheeks, turning them pink. Yet, she still wanted to bury her head in a menu and pretend that she wasn't blushing, but she could feel the heat. It couldn't be ignored no matter how hard she tried. Just like the electric current that seemed to sizzle and pop between them.

"Just a butterbeer would be lovely, thank you." she said, reaching up to make sure the flower was still there. She felt the cool fabric against her fingers, cool in their own right. "I love roses," she added, "because they make me feel like perfect is really possible."

That sounded childish and innocent to even her ears.

[Søren Oden Karkaroff]

You see everything, you see every part
you see all my light, you love my dark...

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Søren felt electricity surge off of Clare in waves. It fizzed and cracked between them, and he felt himself once again over whelmed by the urge touch her face. The touch of her hand still seared on his lips. The feelings, the urges... the gripped him by the gullet and ripped upwards into his throat. Words wouldn't form. He'd never felt so intensely for anyone or anything in his entire life.

He smiled at that moment, realizing that his gift had caused her to blush. He didn't want her to know that he knew. The barmaid came and dropped off their drinks, and he sipped at his. What should he say?

"I love roses because they make me feel like perfect is really possible."

His smiled widened. "Well... certainly it is. I think so, anyway. This moment... spending this time with you... this is certainly perfect for me... complete beyond any theoretical or practical improvement."

You. Idiot. Scarlet flooded his cheeks. He'd done it know. He was going too fast and getting creepy. He cleared his throat.

"So how has your week been, Clare? What are you... planning for Christmas?"