Don't you want me baby?

I Think I Wanna Marry You | Anya

Anya had been rather quick when Donovan agreed to meet her at the Three Broomsticks. She was desperate, in a way that she hadn’t been for a while, to let loose. There was something about seeing a young girl, laying on the floor in her own blood that struck a cord with Anya. Maybe it was simply the setting. In a school that most had previously thought to be safe, so many attacks seemed to have been happening. Even these children were now being exposed to the dark realities of the world, and although Anya loved her job, it was seeing the child turn into an adult too soon that crushed her. She knew that feeling, and she knew what it felt to drift away from the stunning light that childhood had brought. Growing up too fast was perhaps the most tragic of all things, and these students were experiencing it much too early. With these thoughts running through her mind, the walk was quick. She hadn’t brought a coat, not even thinking about the potential weather conditions. Her normally sharp mind was drifting lately, and the need for a drink increased exponentially.

She walked into the pub and grabbed the empty table on the far side. Then, quickly glancing around to see if Donovan had shown up yet, she ordered herself a firewhiskey, and walked back to her seat. She felt comfortable in this sort of setting. Even with the gazes that she knew were settled on her. She was used to getting gazes that had more than friendship in mind. But, she had years of practice with dealing with someone who might have been brave enough to ask. She had just been about to tell a bloke off when she looked up and saw that it was Bailey. He of course had worn a coat, and he quickly removed it and ordered a drink himself. “Ve are dreenking togezer, Bailey, I sink you can drop zee formalities.” She paused, and began again, “Zis veazer does not even compare to Russian vinters.” She smiled in response to his willingness to let her teach him her drinking techniques, and also because she knew he probably wasn’t used to keeping up with her. “Alright, Bailey, but I varn you, I vont go easy, even if you are a beginner” She picked up her glass of firewhiskey, and downed it in an extraordinary amount of time. She picked up a napkin, and quickly cleaned in face. She might have loved to drink, but she wasn’t a slob.

A smile slide easily across Donovan’s face as Anya spoke, the now familiar thickness of her accent as she spoke of now waiting for hom to keep up reminding him that the two were different in more ways than just their drinking habits. Playing with the sweating glass of his own tumbler, idly wiping off a tear of condensation as it raced down the side of the drink, Donovan eventually took the glass in hand and raise it to her wordlessly. He watched in amazement as she seemed to down the whole drink in just one breath, and while he didn’t doubt with a great deal of determination he could do the same, he wondered what the consequences, namely when it came to matters of his heart, would be for such a rush. “My apologies,” he said with a grin, again tilting both his head an his drink to her. ”I’ll do my best to retire the formalities for just one night.” He hoped that dropping the ‘miss’ and ‘ma’am’ of his normal conversation would appease her, by the thought of this encounter being more than just formal business brought another wave of anxiety over him. Becoming close with Anya, no matter how greatly he desired just that, was more dangerous to him than his job could ever be.

Now that he was in the spotlight with her eyes on him looking expectantly, or was that challengingly, as she made she he knew she wouldn’t go easy on him, Donovan had no choice but to bring the glass up to his lips. “I wouldn’t expect anything less than your hardest lesson, Anya. I came prepared as I could ever be. I only hope you won’t be too terribly disappointed that I was your only choice for a drinking partner tonight.” With that he took his first burning gulp of the Firewhiskey, closing his eyes and concentrating until a few more mouthfuls had the glass emptied. With his head spinning slightly from the lack of oxygen and quick intake, Bailey set the glass down on the bar with a thud, looking to Anya for what, approval? Instruction? He wasnt sure, only that she was the most beautiful woman he was certain he’d ever laid eyes on. “Does that call for round two then?” He had no idea what he was getting himself into, only that he was already in over his head, and more importantly, over his heart that grew far too fond far too easily.

# Anya: 1

justmeandmybaileys reblogged this from anyazolnerowich and added:

Donovan had never felt lips as soft as Anya’s, nor had he ever felt so conflicted by a simple kiss. He was not an...
anyazolnerowich reblogged this from justmeandmybaileys and added:

Anya was very aware of Donovan. His voice, his body, his presence. First he was just talking but then he was moving ever...
justmeandmybaileys posted this