* DEEPLY DEVOTED .

He wiped his cheeks, eyes narrowing as they met the woman’s own. He had approached people that were just as rude as this strange woman, but there was something about her that didn’t make him get up to run for cover. It must’ve been a French thing, as he’s noticed in the time he had spent with French people. He didn’t exactly excuse it, but it wasn’t something he was going to point out. Of course, doing that would be rude within itself.

She was on him faster than he could further process his thoughts. How did she move so quickly? Like a blade moving swiftly through the air, debating whether or not it would maim. For a moment, he feared that she would hurt him, and he recoiled into his own form as she drew near.

“What are your intentions?” A soft question escaped his lips. He rubbed his chest with his hand in an effort to soothe himself. To ease the fear that sent the hair against his neck on edge. “Why are you here speaking to me?” He then added. 

      he  was  every  bit  a  child  ––  this  young  man  in  front  of  him.  if  vinda  had  been  someone  with  just  an  ounce  of  empathy,  she  would  perhaps  try  and  calm  him  down,  however  she  was  not.  rather,  she  enjoyed  the  scene  just  like  she  enjoyed  how  a  certain  miss  goldstein  seemed  to  be  very much  inconvenienced  when  she teased  her  with  her  teapot.

     “do  i  have  to  have  intentions?  could  i  not  just  do  things  for  the  sake  of  doing  it?”  she  asked  though  it  was  every  bit  a  lie.  a  woman  like  vinda,  of  course  she  had  her  intentions. right  now,  it’s  to  keep  a  close  watch  on  him,  on  the  boy  that  somehow  managed  to  catch  her  interest.

      she  took  a  moment  before  answering.  the  notion itself  was  more  of  a  show  of  control  and  power.  the  memory  of  her  mother  (frail  and  bitter,  seething  as  she  waited  in  all  her  rage)  played  in  the  back  of  her  head     you  need  them  to  think  you’re  stronger  than  you  really  are.     that’s  what  the  old  woman’s  done  all  her  life,  but  vinda’s  power  was  no  illusion  and  she’s  still  craving  for  more.   vinda  rosier  was  a  lover  of  power  and  powerful  women.  “are  you  saying  you  do  not,  madam?”

     “if  you  don’t  know  your  own  story,  others  will  write  for  you  and  that  wouldn’t  do,  now  would  it?”

      the  blatant  lie  that  came  out  of  his  mouth  was  promptly  ignored,  it  would  serve  no  purpose  to  reply  to  it  and  pointless  things  were  not  something  that  she  got  in  habit  of. every  little  action  and  every  words  that  she  said  served  for  a  greater  “they’re  not – ”  she  answered  simply,  plainly.  she  had  more  eloquence  in  her  tongue  and  the  way  her  body  moved  than  the  tongues  of  the  entire  city, vinda  rosier  didn’t  need  to  talk  to  get  her  point  across.

“ – but  it  was  never  my  intention  to  comfort  you,”  continuing  her  words,  the  french  woman  closed  the  distance  between  them  in  swift  steps  and  leveled  herself  to  him.  her  movements  were  sharp,  almost  like it  could  cut  you.  there  was  a  slight  smile  on  her  face,  it  could  almost  be  seen  curling  up  the  corners  of  her  lips.  almost.  “are  you  maybe  mistaking  me  for  someone  who  offer  a  warm  embrace  at  the  sight  tears,  monsieur?”

A BITTER GAZE RESTS UPON THE WITCH’S FACE,  utterly  disappointed  in her,  to say the least.  there leta stood,  offering her hand—  how was it even a  choice?     “ go to him if you want, ”  she snaps,  fists clenched as she faces vinda.  “ but know that this is where my offer lies.  if you choose to come with me,  we can offer you a new life.  but if you choose  him— ”  GRINDELWALD.  the monster.  she’ll never understand his  entrancement  over his followers.  “ if you choose him,  the deal is done.  they won’t hesitate to  kill you…  and i won’t try to stop them. ”

@deeplvdevoted  ♥’d

      whatever  had  happened  between  them  in  the  past  was  exactly  that  –– THE PAST.  vinda  could  almost  laugh  at  the  extended  hand  towards  her.  leta lestrange.  what  a  nostalgic  name  if  only  she  had  a  penchant  for  such  thing,  even  thinking  of  it  makes  her  want  to  sneer.  “how  pitiful,  what  you’ve become.  aren’t  you  tired  of  hiding,  of  filtering  yourself  for  these  pathetic  Moldu?”

laws  that  were  not  made  to  protect  them,  having  had  to  live  in secrecy  denying  themselves  of  their  rightful  identity  for  the  sake  of  puny  muggles  who  would  not  hesitate  to  forsake  them.  what  SANE  witches  and  wizards  would  accept  that?  she  twisted  her  expression  at  the  thought  as  if  something’s  gone  bad  in  the  room ––  spoiled  milk  gone sour  or  corpses  rotting.

                       porcelain teeth bit into rose lips  ,   every bit of her energy on the books in front of her  .    bright eyes sprinted across the page ,    the spells winding themselves through her mind slowly .    still too murky ,    the golden girl struggled to separate each one from the other ,    and the small click of footsteps made things worse .   with a flick of her wrist ,    the books slammed closed all at one ,    and the witch sighed  .   ❝   any chance you can read ancient hebrew   ?   ❞    @deeplvdevoted  ♡’d  for  a  starter .