One - Meeting Victoria

~ + ~ SWEET MEMORIES ~ + ~

an original fanfiction by olivia

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One

Meeting Victoria

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Patrick Mayfield sat straight up in bed.

Ah, God... what time was it? He leaned over and looked at his bedside alarm clock. It was past ten in the morning. Late... too late.

Stupid Dervish & Bangs business meeting. Patrick frankly couldn't care one bit less about their expanding worldwide. From ten p.m. to long past midnight, Patrick had been forced to suffer through a dreadfully boring business meeting, complete with long-winded talks of stocks, funds and other monetary issues Patrick couldn't comprehend; old, chubby men with walrus-y, drooping skin, falling asleep and snoring loudly; and finally, water that tasted of salt, and sandwiches slathered in sour mayonnaise.

All in all, torture.

After quickly Apparating to his small flat in the downtown Wizarding section of London, Patrick had collapsed onto his bed and slept instantly.

"Stupid, crap meeting," he muttered to himself. In truth, it wasn't even he who was orginially scheduled to go to the boring thing. His fellow Dervish & Bangs worker Grace Shields had, but she'd fallen ill... nothing serious, but she couldn't go. So, Patrick and Grace's mutual boss, Elphan Perdock, had forced Patrick to attend. Hey, it could have been worse, he said to himself, working out a kink in his neck with his hands. Elphan could have said that I was going from the start. He could have favored Grace 'cause they're dating. At least he didn't do that, right?

He finally rolled out of bed and stood, standing firm even as his tired knees wanted to bend and break, and his body wanted to curl up and sleep. He tripped into the bathroom and quickly showered and dressed in jeans and a T-shirt.

Feeling much more awake, he walked downstairs slowly and stretched as he pointed his wand at the coffeemaker in the tiny, cramped kitchen to start it. After quickly drinking a cup of coffee and magicking the mug clean, he got up from the small kitchen table and left his flat.

He was going to visit his girlfriend, Victoria Waters. They had been dating since his seventh year at Hogwarts, and her sixth. She had just finished at Hogwarts and was working on being a Healer in Mark Muffel's Magical Medical School. Today, Saturday, they had arranged to meet and go for lunch.

Patrick had first seen Victoria when Grace Shields had introduced them. She was Victoria's best friend, although two years her senior. They had had a short, flirty friendship before that fateful Christmas Eve of seventh year when they had kissed under the mistletoe in the deserted Great Hall. Since then, they had been in love. Patrick had never felt the same way about any other girl. He'd had a few other girlfriends, sure. But they were flings; they didn't really mean anything.

Sometimes, lying in bed late at night, he feared Victoria leaving him. He thought that she would go to someone younger, handsomer, richer, more successful than some nineteen-year-old, parentless man, living on his own and working at a clothing store. It was a clichéd fear, he knew, but he thought it nonetheless. But then, the next time he saw Victoria, he would just kiss her lips and look into her deep, chocolate-brown eyes, and he would know, deep in his soul, that they would be together—forever.

He walked down the concrete sidewalk, hands in his pockets, braced against the crisp, early April winds. They whipped and curled around his body, chilling him from the inside out.

He reached Victoria's apartment building about ten minutes later. He went up on the lift and stood by Victoria's flat door, four-F. Suddenly, he realized he'd forgotten to buy flowers. Before leaving his own flat, he'd resolved to buy some on the way. And now he was here with no flowers to speak of.

He saw an old, stepped-on, dirty napkin lying beside her door from god knows when. He stooped, and wincing from the repulsiveness (for it looked as if someone with an extremely heavy cold had used the paper napkin as a tissue), he carefully picked up the old thing and took his wand from his pocket. He had never been the best at Transfiguration, but he was sure he could do this right.

A moment later, he rapped on the door with his knuckles and Victoria opened it, wearing a pretty, white blouse and skinny blue jeans with her flaming-red hair tied up into an elegant knot on the top of her head. Patrick let out a sigh. He wanted to kiss her right then and there. But instead he contained himself, grinning widely, holding one hand behind his back.

Victoria, realizing the game, smiled back. She turned and tried to twist her body so she could see what he was holding, but he turned with her so his back stayed behind. Victoria giggled. "Come on, love, what've you got?" she asked, chuckling as he playfully turned away from her every attempt to grab what he was holding—whatever it was.

Finally, with a mammoth flourish, he whipped out the hidden object and held it in front of her face. Her whole face lit up, and her mouth dropped open in shock and pleasure. Clutched tightly in Patrick's outstretched hand was an enormous bouquet of tulips, Queen Anne's Lace, and—the most abundant of the bunch—beautiful, bloomed-at-their-peaks red roses. She took the bunch and pressed it to her face, smelling it.

"Patrick!" she breathed, looking up at him. "They're fantastic! Thank you!"

She turned and beckoned slightly, heading down the front hallway towards the kitchen to fetch a vase of water. Patrick followed her and watched as she clipped the flowers and arranged them tastefully in a patterned glass vase filled with clear water. Somehow, watching as she arranged the bouquet, she seemed almost sensual, sexy... He suddenly walked over and wrapped his hands around her waist from behind. She was surprised, but then softened at his touch. He began leaving a trail of kisses up her soft neck.

She turned and kissed him full on the lips. He closed his eyes and sighed. Victoria was the perfect woman for him. He clutched her tighter and pulled up his leg, running it down hers.

She kissed him deeper, sliding her tongue into his mouth. His hands worked at her chest, but she didn't seem to mind. In fact, she welcomed it. They slowly walked out of the kitchen and down the hall together, Victoria leading the way, even though she was walking backwards.

They entered the bedroom, but Patrick hardly noticed, he was so consumed with Victoria and Victoria alone. Panting, they both fell onto the bed simultaneously.

Patrick wanted to be sure, though, before he did this. They had not yet slept together. "Victoria..." he said, breaking their latest kiss, "are you sure? Are you ready?"

She just smiled and kissed him. He took that for a yes. Slowly, surely, he began undoing the buttons on her blouse.

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The dusty, fading evening light was what Patrick woke to later that day. He felt disoriented for a moment, but then remembered that magical afternoon spent with Victoria. His body tingled all over just remembering... He looked over to where she lay, fast asleep, her golden-red hair fanned out beneath her like a halo.

She was so beautiful when she slept. Patrick wondered what she was dreaming. He hoped it was something pleasant—she deserved that, and oh so much more.

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A/n: My most sincere apoligies for the cheesiness in the lines, 'He would just kiss her lips and look into her deep, chocolate-brown eyes and he would know, deep in his soul, that they would be together—forever.'. But that's how Patrick felt! I can't change it now. ;]

I hope you liked! And I'll be posting the next chapter as soon as this one gets approved. :]

xxOlivia