(1938-11-09) Two Truths and a Lie
Details for Two Truths and a Lie
Summary: Augustin and Eibhlin have a date in one of the greenhouses and play a game. Warning: Some mild mature content.
Date: 1938-11-09
Location: Greenhouses
Related:
Characters
AugustinEibhlin

The day of the picnic has come, and it seems that Gus has pulled out all the stops. He's summoned her to a greenhouse, one of the more harmless ones that's more or less full of flowrs and fragrant herbs, and he's arranged a little bower inside, a sort of cozy nook. Surrounded on three sides by the brightest flowers he could find, and almost private, really. There is a veritable stack of blankets on the soft ground, and a picnic basket full to bursting with all sorts of delightful things inside, including a bottle of sparkling grape juice with Gus' family logo on the label. Something hidden in the plants plays classical music - a soft background orchestra. Gus himself is impeccably dressed in rather nice non-school robes that don't have a single wood shaving clinging anywhere to them.

Eibhlin makes her way to the greenhouse one once without books or bag in tow. It doesn't take long to spot the boy and his creation, but the moment she does there's the urge to turn back the way she came. Her hair left loose around her shoulders as usual she's without school robes, but is wearing the standard skirt and shirt combo paired with a sweater and coat against the chill outside.

"Eibhlin!" Gus says, bouncing up from where he was unpacking the picnic basket. Of course he notices her hesitation. He blinks, and looks from her to the picnic and back again. "Are you alright?" he asks with some concern.

Eibhlin blinks, turning her attention back to him at the sound of her name, a slight smile lifting the corners of her lips. "Yes," she replies simply as she moves further inside to join him. "Feeling a little under-dressed," she admits as she takes in all the details he's prepared. "You did all this?"

"Oh, tish-tosh," Gus says brightly. "You look splendid." He puts his hands in his pockets and grins at her, nodding. "Indeed. I hope you like it. Oh, can I take your coat?" There's really no need for it in the warm greenhouse. He holds his hands out expectantly. His own coat is laying across a battered old wooden stool.

"I just.." Eibhlin replies, still shocked by the effort that must have gone into it all. "Its more than I was expecting." Which isn't a bad thing by any means. Mittens tucked carefully into her coat pockets the outer later is unbuttoned and she slips out of it, passing it over to likely join his own. "Thank you."

Gus takes her coat and lays it carefully across his own, then turns back to her with a smile. "Let's sit, shall we?" he invites, and holds his hand out again to help her down onto the blanket. Once that's done he seats himself - not too close, but within arm's reach. "Would the mademoiselle like some sparkling grape juice?" he offers, holding up the bottle rather jokingly like it's a fine wine.

Eibhlin takes his hand, a quiet "Thank you," for the gesture as she settles down to take up a seat on the blanket, feet curled off to one side - opposite him. "Yes, please," the answer to the question of juice, a smile touching her lips for the display. "You know you didn't have to do all this." She would have been just as happy with the blanket and a few bits to eat that she'd thought with the description 'picnic'.

"No, I didn't," Gus agrees. "But I wanted to. A first date should be something memorable, I think." He deftly pours both of them some grape juice into glass tumblers - seems wine glasses are in short supply at Hogwarts. Among the things he's unpacked there's a small fruit salad, four different sandwiches, soft cheese and crackers, and a little dish of salted almonds. A rather small porcelain-and-tin box remains in the basket, unopened for now. "I hope you like these things," he says. "What /is/ your favorite food, anyway?"

Eibhlin leaves her hands to rest on her lap until one of those tumblers are passed her way at which point she lifts one to accept. She doesn't comment on the mention of a first date, instead looking over the spread he's packed, or unpacked rather. "It looks amazing Gus," she replies with a soft smile. As for her favorite that comes without thought, "Chocolate," continuing after a brief pause, "though that's not really a food per say. Raspberries."

"Thank you," he says at the compliment. "Ah-hah!" Gus says, rather delighted by the new information. He starts dividing the food between them onto proper white china plates, which came with the basket. "This fruit salad happens to have raspberries in it," he tells her with a twinkle in his eye. "I promise next time that I'll have chocolate for you. Dessert is altogether something else, this time." He glances at the little tin, eyes twinkling. "Shall we play a game?" he asks her.

Eibhlin laughs, "That's alright," she assures him about the lack of chocolate in this particular basket. "I'm sure I have plenty," and if not she has enough other sweets to last her a good bit of time. "Oh?" she questions his mention of the dessert, the tin going unnoticed thus far with everything else. "What kind of game…?" she inquires, a hint of skepticism in her voice.

"The game is called Two Truths and a Lie," Gus explains. "We take turns telling each other three things, two of which are true, and one of which isn't. Then the other one takes a guess as to the lie. If they get it right, they get a point," he says. "Whoever has the most point after, oh… five rounds, or seven, or nine or whatever number we pick, wins."

"The point is, though," Gus adds, "Those things have to be about ourselves. It's a way to get to know one another."

"Oh," Eibhlin says as he takes a moment to explain, perhaps not quite sure what to make of it. "I suppose we could try…" she leaves it at that perhaps going on to think of a few things she could say. "Why don't you start?" It was his idea after all.

Gus picks up a sandwich and has a bite of it while he thinks of things to say. "Five rounds?" he suggests. "Alright, then. Here goes. When I was six my father took me hunting, and when I saw him kill a bird I cried about it for two days. My first act of accidental underage magic was to light the parlor carpet on fire. My favorite food is fish and chips."

Eibhlin hmms, going over the options again in her head. Plucking a raspberry from her plate she pops it into her mouth, considering. "Fish and chips is not your favorite food?" she guesses.

"That's right," Gus says with a grin. "My favorite food is actually croissants with butter and cinnamon. That's one point for you. Your turn!"

"You really cried for two days?" Eibhlin inquires, but then moving on to her turn she takes a moment to think. Another berry, which she rolls around in her mouth and swallows before beginning. "I speak Gaelic, my favorite class is Herbology and…" she thinks "I'm terrible at chess."

Gus nods. "It was shocking — one moment it was flying, free and beautiful, then it was simply a mess, frightfully sad, and stripped of life." He sighs at the memory and shakes his head. He watches her put the berry in her mouth with a rather intent look. "Chess?" he guesses. "I bet you're positively corking at it."

Eibhlin gives him an apologetic look at the story of the bird. A shake of her head says he's wrong, "I'm abysmal at chess."

"Ah, another point for you," Gus says. "Which one was the lie?"

"I hated Herbology," Eibhlin admits.

"I'm a rather dab hand at it, myself," Gus admits. "Comes from growing up around green growing things." He points to a few plants, some splashy, pretty flowers and a few herbs. "Planted those, myself," he admits. He has some more sandwich, quickly finishing it off while he thinks of his next move. "My turn then. I speak fluent French. I love flying on my broom. I am allergic to bees."

"Its not that I'm bad at it," Eibhlin replies, "I just never liked it all that much." Taking a sip from her glass she giggles a bit at the bubbles, moving it back to rest on her lap as he goes on with the next set. "Flying?" is her guess.

"Spot on," Gus says. "That's three points for you." He seems positively enchanted with her giggle, and gives an answering low chuckle. "Your turn."

"Well if you loved flying that much, I would have thought you'd be on the Quidditch team," Eibhlin explains her reasoning behind said guess, her list following soon after. "I happen to have fallen off a broom at least 9 out of every 10 tries, I have two sisters and I also speak French," picking up on some of the suggestions he'd just made.

"That's true," Gus says. He starts spreading the soft cheese onto the crackers and takes a crunchy bite. "Well, now, I know you haven't got three sisters - you've already told me it's just you and your mum at home." He grins, pleased to think he's finally got a point.

"It is just me and my mom at home," Eibhlin agrees, before pointing out, "Doesn't mean I don't have sisters." There's a brief pause while she takes a drink, "But you're right."

"Ah… right," Gus says when she points it out. But he brightens when she says he was right. "Oh, jolly good!" He beams at her. "Have you thought about what you should ask for, if you win?" he asks. He will refill her sparkling grape juice and have another cracker while he thinks of what else to say. And so to test her grasp of his parent's language, he speaks French to her. "Je suis li au roi Charlemagne. Une fois, j'ai cass ma jambe en tombant d'un toit. J'ai t en France dix fois."

(Translation: I am related to King Charlemagne. I once broke my leg falling from a roof. I have been to France ten times.)

"I haven't, no. Isn't all this enough?" Eibhlin replies about a prize, reaching for a cracker and a bit of that cheese to nibble on. "Merci," the redhead adds for the refilling of her glass. "Lie au roi Charlemagne?" she sounds skeptical at that one and thus its her guess for this round's lie.

"Actually, I am," Augustin says. "A great many people are, as it turns out, so it isn't even any great honor or anything, but my mother /does/ love to remind me." He reaches toward her, and if she lets him, he'll idly lift a lock of her red hair and let it run over his fingers. "That's two points for me, and three for you." He lifts his gaze from her hair to her eyes. "Your turn," he says with a little smile.

"Oh," Eibhlin returns, not as familiar with French history as she is with her own. She tilts her head just a bit as he reaches over, but she doesn't pull away in fact the way she's seated she's leaning ever so slightly towards him. "Hmm… My favorite color is green, I passed six OWLs, and I haven't touched a broom since first year."

"Well," Gus says, leaning a bit closer toward her. "If you've fallen off your broom so many times, I'm guessing you haven't been on one since your first year, so I think that's true. You're a Ravenclaw, so I wouldn't put it past you to pass six OWLs. I'm guessing green is not your favorite color?" He keeps toying with that lock of hair, combing his fingers through it ever so slowly.

Eibhlin smiles, "Correct. Its blue," she informs.

"Three for me, and three for you," Gus says quietly. "And we're at the end of round three. If I win, I shall ask for a kiss," he tells her. "Round four, now. I don't like bananas. I once nearly drowned in the lake." He pauses for a moment. "I have a black cat named Buttons."

Eibhlin blinks, not quite certain what to say to that and so she says nothing about his potential prize. "You're terribly accident prone aren't you," she teases, "But I think you do like bananas. I however," she continues right on to her turn, "Visited Wales once, attended two schools, and my favorite class is Runes."

"No cat," Gus says with a grin. "Four points to me, at the start of round four." He seems quite happy that she hasn't outright nixed his kissing idea. "I imagine you've gone to another school besides Hogwarts, since I hear your mother's a Muggle. Hmmm. My guess is that your favorite class is /not/ Runes." He wrinkles his nose. "Not with Flint teaching it, anyway."

Eibhlin shakes her head, "No, I've never been to Wales. Runes actually is my favorite." A smile touches her lips as she plucks a pair of blueberries from the plate. "And actually Black is teaching it now, but I never said I liked the professor," she corrects.

"Augh!" Gus says, laughing. "You're a nutter, I knew it. I should run now." He's clearly teasing, though, as he makes no move to leave. In fact he gets a bit bolder, and lets his fingers graze her cheek. "We're tied. Your turn."

For a split second it looks as though she might bolt at those words, but the teasing registers quickly enough and she responds with a laugh of her own. Berries in hand are placed in her mouth and she shifts to press her cheek against his fingers just a bit. "It just was my turn," she points out, "But.." a momentary pause to think, "I once made a boy eat a cricket, rather hoping you win, and I grew up without running water."

"Oh, right," Gus says, eyes glittering with humor. "Lost track of things. I'm distracted." He'll slide his fingers under her ear, through her hair, and cup the back of her head. Gently, slowly, he pulls her closer. "Water," he murmurs, and kisses her.

Eibhlin leans in as he does, their lips meeting in a subtly blueberry flavored kiss. She's not fighting it at all, in fact her eyes close, but in the distraction of it all that glass of juice that's still in her hand tips, and spilling across the narrow space between them and is dropped. "Ack."

Gus pulls his wand. "Scourgify," he says, totally not caring /at all/ and simply eager to get back to kissing her. Just like that, the mess is gone. He pulls her closer and drops his lips to hers again.

"Sorry," Eibhlin apologizes in a quiet breath before their lips touch again. Her hands to his shoulders, sliding back to drape in a gentle touch.

Her apology goes unnoticed as Gus just continues to kiss her, slanting his head slightly to one side and venturing to touch his tongue to her lips. One hand slides through her hair, the other finds a resting place on her waist - though after a few seconds he starts to slide it around to splay on her back.

Hands remain at the back of his neck, wrists crossed one over the other though finger tips of one hand play at his collar. Eibhlin's lips part just a bit, letting go of everything she'd been trying to avoid previously.

Gus takes the time to delve his tongue into her mouth, French kissing her. "You taste amazing," he breathes against her lips after a few minutes of that. Then he tangles his hand in her hair and tugs gently backward, tilting her head so he can kiss her neck. His breath feathers across the almost invisible hairs of her earlobe just before he sucks that into his mouth and nibbles gently on it.

Eibhlin pulls back maybe just a bit, uncertain about this whole French kissing thing. When he shifts to her neck and then her ear however she pulls in a sharp breath, "Gus," she starts, "we shouldn't…" Snogging is against the rules after all and she is a Prefect, she's supposed to be setting an example - not that anyone is around to catch them. Right? Then again she's not protesting very hard.

"Tell me to stop and I will," Augustin whispers into her ear. Then he goes back to nibbling his way down the pale column of her neck. He takes one of her hands and presses it to his chest - the thunder of his heart can easily be felt.

Eibhlin's own heart is pounding and shouldn't and not wanting to are very different things, particularly when it comes to teenagers. She does manage to place the request however, even if it takes a bit longer before she moves to bring shoulder and cheek together to close off the space, the hand on his chest giving a push. "Stop."

Gus stops. With a sigh full of regret and frustration he flops back onto the blanket. It takes him a few seconds to realize that he hasn't got voluminous robes to disguise the physical effect their kissing had on him. When he does, he quickly rolls to his side, away from her, hoping maybe she didn't see. "Sorry," he says. "Got a bit carried away there." He clears his throat. "Sorry."

Its safe to say she didn't notice, still reeling from it herself. Stretching forward Eibhlin places her hands on the blanket beside him, a step between sitting and lying down on her stomach made in one smooth motion. Turning her torso she brings her lips against his neck, "Ta tu iontach," she whispers, warm breath brushing his skin before leaving a soft kiss at the space just below and behind his ear. "Don't be sorry." settling back to rest her head on her arm.

Gus stiffens and shudders, and then turns over, half-pinning her underneath him. He's breathing hard, his eyes are half-lidded with desire. "If… you tell me… to stop," he pants, lowering his head until their lips are a micrometer apart. "You have to… stop… too…" His chest is pressed tightly to hers, one hand is on her hip, the other half-supporting him.

Eibhlin smiles, her cheeks flushed, breath heavy as her chest rises to press against his. Her free hand lifts to rest against his cheek as she focuses on his eyes, "They were all true…"

Gus drops a kiss to her lips. "What was true?" he asks, and kisses her again. The hand on her hip starts gently squeezing.

"I don't remember," Eibhlin admits between his kisses. Whatever she'd said last in their game, but just what those three things were are lost to his kiss and all she remembers is that she forgot the lie. Her thumb gently traces across his cheek.

Gus tries French-kissing her again, his tongue teasing. Slowly, his hand kneads his way down her thigh toward the hem of her skirt. "Eibhlin," he sighs when he pulls back for air. "You're so beautiful."

When he pulls back she follows, lips touching a second longer before she falls back herself. "Yeah?" she replies as her name is spoke, her blush renewing at the compliment. "No one's ever done anything like this for me before…" she admits.

Gus's hand finds the hem of her skirt. His fingers are trembling on her knee, there. He looks down at his fingers on her leg, then up at her, and swallows hard. "So, /so/ beautiful. You… you had better tell me to stop," he whispers. "And then give me a few minutes to recover. Or else I'll…" he breathes out shakily and presses another kiss to her lips. "I'll keep going."

Eibhlin's hand leaves his cheek to reach down to his hand on her knee, slipping her fingers between his, aiming to remove his hand. "We should stop," she reminds him there they were minutes ago, brushing a kiss against his cheek even as she shifts to push back to a seated position.

"We really should," Gus agrees. He follows her lead, removes his hand from her leg, sits up sort of hunched over. He keeps holding her hand in a tight grip, and closes his eyes. He breathes deeply and evenly.

Eibhlin gives his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Are you alright?" she asks, concern tinting her voice. He may not have been her first kiss, but this was a different level, and either way he's acting more than a bit off.

"Yeah," Gus says. His voice is a bit rough. "Do you…" he gives her a curious look. "Know about blokes?" he asks. "I mean… what happens when we kiss a pretty girl, like we were kissing just now?"

Eibhlin blinks. "I… oh.. Oh." Yes, Evie, two plus two does equal four. "I didn't…I'm sorry." If he thinks he's seen her blush before. She may be naive in the world of boys, but she does catch the drift. "I can go."

Gus laughs a little bit at her red blush. "You're adorable," he tells her. "No need to leave," he says. "Just give me a minute." He closes his eyes again and starts breathing again, and soon enough he has things under control. "Alright. How about dessert?" he asks. "I've brought a treat." He pulls the little tin from the hamper.

That only causes the crimson in her cheeks to deepen, but at least him needing time gives her time. The mention of dessert finds Eibhlin's blue eyes blinking back over to him. "What's..?"

Gus opens the tin to show a tidy array of little squares of Turkish Delight. These he shares with her, and more conversation is had. If asked later, Gus would never be able to tell who won the game.

Truths:
Gus
- When I was six my father took me hunting, and when I saw him kill a bird I cried about it for two days.
- My first act of accidental underage magic was to light the parlor carpet on fire.
- I speak fluent French.
- I am allergic to bees.
- I am related to King Charlemagne.
- I once broke my leg falling from a roof.
- I don't like bananas.
- I once nearly drowned in the lake.

Eibhlin
- I speak Gaelic.
- I'm terrible at chess.
- I happen to have fallen off a broom at least 9 out of every 10 tries.
- I also speak French
- I passed six OWLs.
- I haven't touched a broom since first year.
- My favorite color is blue.
- I have attended two schools.
- My favorite class is Runes.
- I once made a boy eat a cricket.
- I grew up without running water.

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