[mature]Suggestive themes included.[/mature]
Summer of 1995; London, England.
For Anastaise Valois.
England was no foreign land to Sven Mikael Valquist, even though it was thousands of miles away from where he'd call 'home'. Every so often, he would find himself treading the British grounds in attendance of some sort of social gala or in company of his parents on some social visit to one of their British family friends - usually the Twisletons or the Villiers. Subsequently, this could very well be regarded as a different sort of visit to the English-speaking country, as he wasn't expected to attend any sort of social event and was merely gracing London for a very specific, private reason: his girlfriend, Anastaise.
A year younger than he himself was, she had only just graduated from their alma mater, Beauxbatons Academy, less than a month ago and had already, unsurprisingly, took the courageous leap of faith in plunging headlong into the Professional Quidditch arena. What perhaps was mildly astonishing to the Swedish wizard was the fact that she had chosen to take her baby steps into the field from Great Britain's branches. Nonetheless, he played the part of a supportive boyfriend well, publicly proclaiming his best wishes and earnest encouragement whenever pestered by the Swedish paparazzi, and now, travelling all the way to London in order to assist his inamorata in moving to her newfound home.
Now, that could very well be considered a perfectly innocent reason to all parties considering his presentation, but nothing was ever as simple as that when a member of the Valquist family was involved. In spite of it all, Anastaise Valois was, considering his parents' wishes, to a greater extent still a form of obligation on his part. He was, after all, the eldest son of the Valquists. To his parents, he could only settle for the crème de la crème, and who better than a daughter of hypothetical French magical royalty?
It hadn't been the toughest mission in the entire world, at least not when compared to his other personal engagements. Anastaise and he came to a mutual agreement without much hassle, both more than accustomed to the ways of their society. Perhaps if he'd had been avidly invested in a relationship at all, he might have been less agreeable, but Sven was not. Anastaise was none the more interested in him and their so-called relationship out of public scrutiny. Disregarding the obstinate canyon of emotional distance that could not be bridged between the both of them when in private and the ever present weariness each bore towards their position, over the past year, Anastaise had came to become nearly a habit to him. To the Swedish, it was as close an idealism as he could ever achieve in his current disposition.
With his documents and registration done with at the British Ministry, the blonde-haired wizard navigated his way to the telephone booth that would elevate him to ground level, where his supposed girlfriend was meant to meet up with him and guide him by Apparition to her new home. He hadn't came unprepared, of course, but for most part he appeared empty-handed, dressed appropriately for the season in jeans which ends were tucked into ankle-height leather boots, and his white collared shirt tucked into his waistband secured by a black leather belt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It would be hard to overlook the foreigner as he emerged and stepped out of the telephone box into the sunlight English city.
