pairing: ron weasley x daphne greengrass
setting: modern, non-magical, organized crime au
story intro based on this conceptĀ for rare pair summer slam 2k19
12/29/2018 | 23:42 PM PST
āSo, by this point, Iām pretty sure this guyās girlfriend is, you know, propositioning me, and thereās four million dollarsā worth of Flemish Baroque portraiture just sitting there, uncovered, without even any securityāoh, thank you,ā Daphne says, cutting herself off and directing a small, effortlessly sincere smile towards the bartender as she takes her new drink. Itās a sidecar, which Ron had initially kind of alternated between inwardly scoffing and grimacing at, but thereās something about the colorāthat bright, bubbly, citrusy yellow-orangeāthat almost makes up for having to suffer the hugely pretentious indignity of actually ordering one.
The floral perfume and the sparkling teeth and the neatly crossed ankles and the white lace peter pan collar on her green velvet mini dress. The art history grad student with the pristine manicure and the fishnet stockings and the all-too endearing, vaguely self-conscious hitch in her laugh that makes him wonder what she could possibly have to be so worried about.
Of course she drinks sidecars. Ā
Ronās whole job is to put puzzle pieces together; he can appreciate the easy, uncomplicated appeal of one thatās already been finished for him. Because a problem solved isnāt a problem at all, and thereās beauty in simplicity, andāshit like that. He doesnāt need to bring his work home with him to have a good time, is his fucking point.
āAnyway,ā Daphne says, clearing her throat and reaching up to fiddle with an oversized pearl earring, āsorry, what was Iāā
āYou were telling me about the charity auction you helped organize,ā Ron says quickly, mouth opening and closing like a goddamn goldfish as he chases the obnoxious little cocktail straw around in his own drink. āAnd the, uh, theāMicrosoft guy? Who bought all theāthe stuff? The art stuff?ā
Daphne smiles againāhalf as sweet, twice as slyāand ducks her chin. āRight. The, um, art stuff.ā
Ron shrugs and grins, leaning sideways into the bar, elbow propped up. āIām actually in town for an art thing, up at the Getty?ā
āYeah, I doāwell, I canāt talk about a lot of it, but right now thereās this big bidding war on these, like, hella old books from some monastery in France, so I have to go spend a week locked in theĀ basement up there because of photosensitivity, whichāwhat? Whatās wrong?ā
Next to him, Daphne has gone very still, her gaze flitting up and over his shoulder, towards where the neon green EXIT sign is. āOh, nothing, sorry, I justāI thought I saw something. Someone. Actually, do you mind if I justāā She twists the strap of her impractically tiny purse around her fingers. āI need to make a quick phone call? Outside? If thatās okay?ā
Ron is nodding before she can even finish getting all the words out, offering her what he hopes is more of a sultry, confidently encouraging smirk than whatever his face is normally capable of, which is decidedly not that.
āYeah, yeah, for sure,ā he stammers, ice cubes clinking as he gulps down the rest of his drink, wincing at the burn. āIāll justāwait. Here. For you. Take your time. I meanāif you need to. Thereās no rush, is what Iām saying. Getting at. Iāll justābe here.ā
Daphne slides off her stool, finishing-school graceful, leaving her newest sidecar untouched, and then stops, hesitates, glancing up at Ron through the dark, sooty fan of her lashes. Her smile dims, just the slightest bit, turning wistful and rueful around the edges, fragile, almost, like a star thatās finally managed to burn itself out, while the diamond stud in her nose winks and glitters where it catches the shitty dive bar mood lighting.
āI want you to knowāyouāre really, really sweet,ā she blurts out, and then immediately presses her lips together, cheeks pink, and shakes her head. āSorry. Iāveāā She waves a sleek, rose gold iPhone at him and gestures weakly to the door. āIāll come right back, yeah?ā
She doesnāt come right back, obviously.