save your heart. [pierre<3]

[katja dione dietrich;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc172/damijoandamija/sbg.jpg); padding-left: 50px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-top: 10px;] near to you you and i have something different, and i'm enjoying it, cautiously. i'm battle scarred, i am working oh so hard to get back to who i used to be. he's disappearing, fading, suddenly. i'm so close to being yours, won't you stay with me... please? words || 589 || tag || pierre! || outfit || as seen in image Katja entered the restaurant, immediately greeted by a warm atmosphere and a friendly smile from the hostess. Grinning at the well-dressed hostess Katja managed to convey to the hostess the reservation Pierre had made for them. As the hostess scooped up two hardcovered menus Katja followed her, soaking in the darling atmosphere of the restaurant. The decor was romantic, the lights dimmed down and each table spaced far enough apart that one wouldn't have to worry too much about people listening to a conversation. In essence, Katja loved it. Smiling brightly as the hostess settled her at the table and set the menu's down she settled into the booth, her slender form sinking into the plush seats. Adjusting the form-fitting dress adorning her body she relaxed into the seat. Normally Katja wasn't caught wearing dresses. But when Katja had mentioned to fellow bandmates about going on a 'date' with Pierre they'd quickly raided her wardrobe and ordered her to wear the purple and black number. She grinned at the thought of her bandmates, knowing their intentions were pure. Plus, who didn't like dressing up every now and again? Shifting in her seat and adjusting her long dark locks over her slender shoulders she was immediately glad that she'd refrained from letting them touch her hair or makeup. They would've taken it a step to far and as a devoted German she preferred a more natural look and often times wore only light makeup. If someone was going to like her it was going to be because of who she was, though looking attractive helped. Reaching towards the menu as the waitress appeared clearly wanting a drink order Katja forced a smile, not willing to admit to a stranger that she had no idea what drinks they had because reading English was a constant challenge. Especially when they used ridiculous vocabulary. "Um. Ah water, danke." Katja grinned sheepishly up at the waitress as her husky tones left her lips. The waitress paused for a minute, clearly shocked by the accent heavily laced in Katja's tone. It was a common reaction she got, as long as people didn't ask her to speak to them in her native tongue she was fine. In Katja's mind the German language was far from romantic sounding in comparison to French and she didn't want people to think she was choking or going to spit on them. At the thought of French her mind immediately went to Pierre. A soft smile caressed her lips at the thought of the handsome Frenchman. She'd been shocked when he'd texted her earlier that day, then immediately please. Thanks to the help of some merc booth workers she'd managed to decipher his messages and reply with her own. It was an accomplishment for her. Later, she'd agreed to meet him at the restaurant because his practice was running a bit behind schedule. The thought that he'd want to spend more time with her had warmed her at the same time it had thrown her off. She'd heard plenty about him since they'd first met in the park, and she had no intentions of being just another conquest. Yet she saw the good in him, and he was devilishly charming. Opening the menu and staring at it blankly Katja desperately hoped he wouldn't think she'd been joking when she'd mentioned he'd need to read the menu to her. Glancing up from the jumble of words she smiled as the waitress approached with her water, wondering where exactly the evening was going to go. notes || <33

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LYRICS BY A FINE FRENZY[/center]

[pierre cyrille de lamarliere;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,border-left: 10px solid #b43838; border-top: 10px solid #b43838; border-radius: 0em 2em 0em 2em; -moz-border-radius: 0em 2em 0em 2em; background-image:url(http://colourlovers.com.s3.amazonaws.com/images/patterns/1974/1974567.png), width: 400px; height: 400px;] She says this doesn't hurt Pierre halted to a stop in front of thick wooden doors. With his free hand he quickly fixed his light grey dress shirt, aligning it and realigning it to near perfection. After fixing his hair a bit more he entered the restaurant. It wasn't exactly five stars but it was quite fancy and well decorated. A waitress then quickly came to greet him and replied, "Someone is already waiting for me, thank you." He shot the girl a small smile before walking off to look for Katja. He quickly spotted her through the busy restaurant and made his way further down the restaurant, before stopping short in front of the table. "I'm sorry I had to make you wait, and these are for you," Pierre said quickly handing her a bouquet of red roses and settling down onto the chair across from her. A waitress quickly came and handed him a leather bounded menu as well as asking him what he would like to drink. "Water please," he said before turning towards Katja and properly taking in what she wore, "You look really nice." He had to thank his mother for teaching him the proper way to court a girl and how to treat them on a date. When Pierre told his mother of the date, as he considered it one even if he hadn't properly told Katja that, she then went onto a ranting spree that only mother could. It ended up with him thoroughly embarrassed but it also came with some pretty good advice. He continued to smile a silly grin even though he was slightly exhausted from practice. he was quite happy when Katja accepted his invitation to a dinner, he had then promptly made a reservation to one of the best restaurants he could find in the area. Opening the menu, he did a once over. His eyebrow slightly raised at the mixture of french words they actually added in, it made it certainly more authentic but hard to understand sometimes. "Would you like help reading the menu?" He asked lightly trying to not offend her. He remembered their past conversation at the park and over the cellphone of how she needed help with the menu. Of course with their way of mixing another language into a menu wasn't going to make it any easier for non-english speakers. It was a while since he actually ate a French meal and he just hoped that it would come close to the food he had back at home. He was certain that if that would happen he would get a case of homesickness but that would be cured easily with a source of companionship with Katja. Pierre started to muse on how exactly he came to know Katja. It was under strange circumstances of course, bonding over stray dogs and a country that was so far from your home. He wasn't that whorish enough to actually go and get a random stranger girl's pants. Well maybe he was just a bit, but he wouldn't invite her for dinner. So he found it puzzling why he took such an interest in the girl, who he already planned to take out again. She was quite the looker, being a natural beauty. Pierre could easily see that she wasn't wearing any makeup which was quite nice since he seen people smother on makeup until it looked like a mudmask. She was also quite charming with her personality. It seemed like, Katja, as whole interested him. She says I finally had enough

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Made by Pancake of WUU, don't steal or use without her knowing else you will be chopped up and hand fed your own body parts C:

[katja dione dietrich;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc172/damijoandamija/sbg.jpg); padding-left: 50px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-top: 10px;] near to you you and i have something different, and i'm enjoying it, cautiously. i'm battle scarred, i am working oh so hard to get back to who i used to be. he's disappearing, fading, suddenly. i'm so close to being yours, won't you stay with me... please? words || 611 || tag || pierre! || outfit || as seen in image Katja shifted in her seat, refraining from glancing at the menu and refusing to allow herself to be fully embarassed by her lack of ability. The sound of soft footfalls on the floor drew her gaze up from the hardcovered menu and was greeted with the sight of Pierre holding a bouquet of roses. Widening her eyes as she took in the gorgeous flowers and him holding them she attempted to get control of her thoughts. It was only the second time since being on tour that she'd been given flowers and this time was by far her favorite. Reaching out for the roses she grinned widely at Pierre, a blush rushing across her normally pale cheeks. "Oh! Their schon! Beautiful! Danke!" Katja moved to place the flowers behind her, a smile adorning her rosen lips as she watched him take the seat across from her. As the waitress took his drink order and left once more she smiled broadly at him, appreciating the fact that she wasn't the only one who'd dressed up. Yet Katja imagined that Pierre was always put together, and for good reason. The male was gorgeous. "It's nein problem, Ich adore tha flowers." Her slightly flustered state caused her to slip into her native tongue, her husky tones reaching out across the table as she grinned. As he commented on her appearance she quickly glanced down at her phone and blushed once more. Really, she was beginning to behave like this was her first date, yet there was just something different about him. "Oh uh, danke. Ye look handsome yerself." Tossing him a crooked grin she turned her attention to the menu before her, her blush still highlighting her cheeks as she noted for the first time the mixture of the two languages. As he spoke once more Katja glanced up with a relieved look on her face. "Ja bitte. I'd appreciate tha verra much." Swallowing back her pride she leaned forwards over the table, closing in the distance between them caused by the table between them. Placing her palms on the menu and opening it she glanced up at Pierre. "At least you'll be gettin' ah taste o' home, even if et is American-ized eh?" Katja knew without a doubt that the cuisine wouldn't taste exactly like food made in Paris but it would be a close second. Katja at least was able to have a bit of comfort because German food was simplistic, all it really required was knowing what to put in it. "Yer my hero tonight. Reading English isn't my strongest suit." Katja tamped down another blush, refusing to let herself feel inferior. It wasn't as if she wasn't trying, but it took some time. "One day I will manage ta conquer reading it." She grinned once more, still leaning across the table from him and forcing herself not to stare at his face or lips. "Can I consider dis our first French lesson? I'm in desperate need o' one, I'm beginning ta think tha German really does make people believe tha I'm tryin' ta spit on 'hem." She winked at Pierre, her dark hues glowing with humor. Pulling back slightly as the waitress arrived with their drinks and made a comment about returning for their orders in a few minutes Katja leaned back across the table towards Pierre. Glancing up at his face she gave him a sheepish grin. "I'm verra sorry ye ha'e ta read the menu ta me, but I promise to be a good student." Watching him closely with a grin resting on her rosen lips she found herself thinking this was quickly becoming an evening to look forward to. notes || ahhh i love them!

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LYRICS BY A FINE FRENZY[/center]

[pierre cyrille de lamarliere;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,border-left: 10px solid #b43838; border-top: 10px solid #b43838; border-radius: 0em 2em 0em 2em; -moz-border-radius: 0em 2em 0em 2em; background-image:url(http://colourlovers.com.s3.amazonaws.com/images/patterns/1974/1974567.png), width: 400px; height: 400px;] She says this doesn't hurt "I'm glad you like them," Pierre replied. He honestly didn't know if roses would be truly too cheesy for her taste, as he seen it done so many times before. He was planning to pick another boutique of flowers but the florist was daggers at him. So he grabbed the freshest looking rose boutique, threw a twenty dollar bill (which was probably way too much), and ran out to get to the restaurant. He continued to catch the mixture of English and German but blushed it aside as he could easily fill in the spaces. He found the blush dusting her cheeks adorable as it made her look flustered. He took another look at the glossed pages, recognising some easily as they were written in French. He knew what most of the dishes were except a few here and there but it have been because he translated the English wrong in his head. "No need to thank me, I already said I was going to help right? I am a man of my word after all," Pierre said, a overly cheerful grin was plastered on his face. "I guess, it was a pity I never learned how to properly make anything more then a crêpe and even then I always overcooked them," he answered a wistful look flashed on his face. Cooking was never his strong point as his parents never found the need for him to cook. They would have probably have been willing, but he probably was the only one who could burn water in the whole world which meant that he was banned from the kitchen. "Is there anything in particular that you want to try? There's so much food that I could tell you about, but I don't want you to suffer in tiredness tomorrow for your morning lesson," he said, remembering that Katja mentioned that she had morning lessons now. He took a quick drink from his water. "I don't doubt you. I'll take you out on a special dinner when as a celebration," Pierre said, already setting up another 'date'. It was going to be a celebration, it was just going to be attended by two people that is all. He leaned over the table slightly to get closer to her so if would be easier for him to point at certain objects on his menu. "I'm sure it isn't. Again, people are probably too enraptured by your looks to even see that your mouth moves," he said in a slightly teasing voice, and looked up to meet her brown eyes with his own. It was true that most hormone-filled boys can overlook a girls accent. As in, who the hell cares look at that body I would so tap that. It was also the reason why Pierre thanked whatever deity in the sky he was out of the prime of his teenage years. He wasn't even as bad as the teenagers of America, if you overlooked the record of girls he slept with of course. "I'm sure you're going to be so good that I will end up wanting to teach you everyday. Now let's hurry up and then we can gorge on dessert," Pierre said, his slight sweet tooth kicking in as he slide his menu into the middle so it could be easily seen by both of them. She says I finally had enough

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Made by Pancake of WUU, don't steal or use without her knowing else you will be chopped up and hand fed your own body parts C:

[katja dione dietrich;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc172/damijoandamija/sbg.jpg); padding-left: 50px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-top: 10px;] near to you you and i have something different, and i'm enjoying it, cautiously. i'm battle scarred, i am working oh so hard to get back to who i used to be. he's disappearing, fading, suddenly. i'm so close to being yours, won't you stay with me... please? words || 840 || tag || pierre! || outfit || as seen in image Katja grabbed up the cool glass of water in her hand, slender fingertips bringing the glass up to her lips. The cooling sensation of the water trickling down her throat relaxed her throat muscles that she was fairly certain were trying to close up on her. Pierre was having an effect on her, and it was intimidating at the same time Katja was itching to meet the challenge. She was attracted to him, she wasn't so naive as to not believe that, but she'd also never really dedicated herself to the dating scene. Watching her band mates struggle through that had convinced Katja to avoid dating. Before they'd started touring and had been stuck in high school Katja had explicitly told all of the guys she let escort her to a dance that it was no-strings-attached. But the Frenchman before her was beginning to have her questioning her decision. The thought unsettled her but Katja continued to grin at him, her smile meeting his. "Bah. Ma mater didna let me in tha kitchen either, thank goodness fer restaurants eh?" Katja grinned again, winking at him from across the table. German food was often uncooked anyways, so if she wanted traditional food it was easy. If one asked her to bake a chicken or turkey however, the fire department would not doubt be involved. As he asked her about the menu Katja reminded herself they were there to eat, not for her to stare. Sheepishly glancing down at the menu she gave the menu a light glare before shooting a small smile up to Pierre. "Es ist noch kein Meister vom Himmel gefallen." Her husky tones enveloped the words, the German flowing easily from her rosen lips as she grinned at him. "Practice makes perfect eh?" Speaking in her native tongue was something Katja rarely had the idea of doing. Americans either became obsessed with hearing her speak in German and ask her to translate a million different things or simply look at her like she was having a stroke. Dropping her dark hues back to the menu after catching his gaze she frowned slightly, pondering over the words before letting out a sigh. "Ick. I dunna think translating all night woulda help me much." Placing her finger on his menu she grinned up at Pierre before closing her eyes, delicate lids closing over caramel brown and swept her finger over the menu before stopping. Opening her eyes back up she leaned across the table, smiling as she attempted to pronounce the dish. "Flahmeechie?" Keeping her finger beside the entree she let out a husky laugh, knowing she'd certainly destroyed the name of the dish. "Alright, professeur, teach me." Purposely pronouncing professor in the French way she grinned at Pierre. "I'm na too helpless right?" Shifting her attention from the gorgeous Frenchman to the menu she waited for him to properly pronounce it to her. Of course she could make sense of the lettering, but certainly not the pronounciation of "flamiche". One word on the description did however jump out at her so to speak. "Et 'as leeks! At least dis place is authentic eh?" Leeks were commonly used in many French and European dishes, and Katja was familar with the greens. When he'd spoke of taking her out to a special dinner Katja beamed up at him, realizing as to how close they'd been leaning to eachother when he'd moved closer to the menu himself. Forgetting what exactly she was going to say Katja watched his face, her dark hues dropping to his mouth, mentally daring herself to kiss him. Drawing in a breath she forced herself to concentrate. Pierre was one for manners if the flowers were any clue, and certainly kissing at a table wasn't proper etiquette. Certainly not to the French who took pride in such things. "Ja. Tha'd be lovely. If there's any hope fer me." Grinning to throw off the sensations pouring through her she blushed slightly when he spoke of attraction. If only he knew what she was thinking. "Ah! Are ye telling me, Franzosisch mun tha ye dunna watch my mouth move?" Katja grinned at Pierre, slipping in the German word for French while she spoke. The deal had been that she'd give him German lessons, though she guessed he was probably far better at deciphering German then she was at deciphering French. "Mmmm dessert." If there was one thing that Katja really appreciated about French cuisine it was the impeccable desserts. They by far beat out many of the German recipes. The waitress approached their table, placing a basket of bread on the edge of the table since Katja and Pierre both still leaned against it and asked for which dressing they'd like on their salad. Smiling at the pleasant waitress Katja murmured out vinagarette and then settled her attention back on the menu, unable to pull back from the table and sit in her seat with Pierre so close. Waiting for him to state his preference she ran her fingertips over the glossed page. notes || ahgerhgeh...so adorable <3

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[pierre cyrille de lamarliere;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,border-left: 10px solid #b43838; border-top: 10px solid #b43838; border-radius: 0em 2em 0em 2em; -moz-border-radius: 0em 2em 0em 2em; background-image:url(http://colourlovers.com.s3.amazonaws.com/images/patterns/1974/1974567.png), width: 400px; height: 400px;] She says this doesn't hurt He smiled, his right hand grabbing the cool glass and his fingers marked the foggy glass as he played around with the lip of it. It was a habit of his, not a nervous but a fidgety one. His eyes dropped to see the water being disrupted and distorting his reflection. Pierre continued to look at his reflection as he mused on the fact of why he brought her here. He did charm girls, yes, but it usually was a one day thing that ended with them in bed. He had never stayed with one girl for very long, and a stranger nevertheless. ”If there weren’t for restaurants I would have to say I wouldn’t be able to live by myself until I got myself a serious relationship of sorts and then I would have to beg them to cook for me,” he said, grinning back. The latter was so highly unlikely for him. He wasn’t in a ‘serious’ relationship for years. Yes, some girls ended up with him for a week and some for two if they were good fucks but that was all. No I love yous were ever exchange as the feeling still was nonexistent in Pierre’s dictionary. Maybe he just needed some wooing to finally be claimed by someone, but that was as unlikely as him believing in love. He probably spent some serious amount of money going out to eat, but that wasn’t much of a problem considering his wealth. He quietly listened to her German, it sounded nice, atleast to him, coming from her. It was a break from everyday English and he took the chance to listen to the probably rare chance of German coming out of her lips. ”"C'est en forgeant qu'on devient forgeron” he replied, translating into his own language. The literal definition in English was slightly awkward but it still held the same ,eaning. He heard it more than he could remember when he was young. To work hard, to strive and dream, and to do the best to your ability his father would tell him back in France. They really didn’t expect him to be anything less then perfect when he takes over the business. He let out a small chuckle at her action of picking something from the menu. ”Well, I would have had a problem with helping you, it would mean I would get to stay with you all night wouldn’t it?” Pierre said, in a semi-flirtatious voice, before helping her pronounce the word properly. ”Ah, but you aren’t culturally inclined and you do know how to pronounce things, so you’ll getting there. Yes there’s leeks, it’s pretty a much a tart with leeks to say simply and it’s good,” he answered, making sure she knew what exactly she was ordering. He turned his eyes from her back to the menu and scanned it. Pierre decided on something relatively light and picked the vegetarian terrine. He liked it well-enough and decided on it, before setting a hand on the corner of the menu as well but leaning forward a bit more. "I should shouldn't I? If I want to learn how to speak German that is. Also, you'll get there, I'm so the celebration is good motivation though," he said, eyes dropping to look at her lips, it was certainly a tempting thought to capture the pink lips, but he simply smiled back. This was not the time nor the place to be lip-locking in, especially when it wasn't a one-time fling sort of thing. ”Doesn’t that mean you should young allemand?” Pierre said, he was not completely oblivious to the wandering eyes he just never pointed it out that would be mean and more embarrassing then anything. His mind then ran to a full stop, how old was she? Of course she looked around his age, but he had seen people look around his age and be years younger then him. ”I missed dessert, everything here seems to be ice cream which is so uncreative and tiring after awhile. Anyways, how old are you?” Pierre asked, not wanting to be rude. His mother would have boxed his ears if she heard him asking a lady her age. Her voice was already inwardly nagging him about how it was rude to ask for a woman’s age and that you would do no good in proper courting. He found it slightly sad that his parent’s voices seemed to still lurk in the depths of his mind even when they were separated by miles of ocean. Then his mind wandered back to the dessert. He probably developed the sweet-tooth from when he was back at home. Even with the multi-uses of crepes, he liked them best used as dessert. All the times when he was wandering Paris, he could be seen with one more often then not, and maybe a girl. Thinking of these sorts of things always pulled back other memories. It seemed to be tempting sometimes to book the next plane trip back home, but America has also become a part of him. Independence that he rarely experienced and for the most part, fame. He was known at home but here, Pierre made a name for himself and he was quite proud of that achievement. He rarely registered the waitress arriving at the table, let alone the bread. He was careful though, not to knock over the bread nor their water as they seemed to take up most of the tabletop. Pierre turned at the waitress, giving her a friendly smile before replying that he would like the same and giving her a quick thank you. He then returned to his staring, refusing to move back into his chair, as it seemed both would not let up in a rudimentary game of chicken. He held no shame and hence refused to move, and continued to look at Katja, waiting, urging her to meet his eye. Food held none of his interest as all of it seemed to be captured by the girl in front of him. She says I finally had enough

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Made by Pancake of WUU, don't steal or use without her knowing else you will be chopped up and hand fed your own body parts C:

[katja dione dietrich;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc172/damijoandamija/sbg.jpg); padding-left: 50px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-top: 10px;] near to you you and i have something different, and i'm enjoying it, cautiously. i'm battle scarred, i am working oh so hard to get back to who i used to be. he's disappearing, fading, suddenly. i'm so close to being yours, won't you stay with me... please? words || 1,411 || tag || pierre! || outfit || as seen in image Katja’s attention remained fastened on the glossy menu, her fingernails trailing across it as if she was caressing it. A small smile played across rosen lips, her body completely relaxed against the table. If someone had informed her a year ago that she would be touring with her band and meet a handsome Frenchman Katja would’ve laughed and ignored them. However in a span of several months her life had changed, All That’s Love had been asked to tour with other bands and travel with them. And now she’d met Pierre and had actually accepted a date. She hadn’t been able to no, and certainly never wanted to. Fate had a strange way of twisting things and having things and people come together at just the right moment. Drawing her gaze up to his as he spoke of restaurants being a life saver Katja sent him a crooked smile, her white teeth flashing from behind rosen lips. “Ja! I’d offer ta cook fer ye but I dunna know how fond ye are of German foods.” Katja let out a low, husky laugh her humor clearly reflected in caramel eyes. The thought of another female cooking for him set her slightly on edge, a strange feeling rushing through her veins even as she smiled up at him. Forcing back whatever feeling that was, Katja smiled, slightly in awe of the beautiful sound of the French pouring from his lips. In her mind it was enchanting to hear, especially from him. “I guess z’hey dunna call French tha language o’ love fer no reason.” Of course having lived in a country right next to France Katja had met her fair share of French people. She’d been around the language from a young age and had a bit of knowledge when it came to speaking it, yet when Pierre spoke in French it had completely enraptured her, her attention focus unable to leave him. It could have been his looks, and most likely would’ve been for other females but it was the way he’d repeated her words back to her in a language different from her native German and English that pulled at her. He’d repeated a value that meant a lot to her back, and instead of just saying it back to her in English, he’d spoken in his native tongue. Surprised by the warm feeling this evoked in her she smiled softly at Pierre. As he spoke of how he wouldn’t mind spending the night ‘teaching’ her Katja let out a low laugh, a grin replacing the soft smile. “Eh! Eventually we’d ha’e ta switch places an’ I’d be tha Lehrer, teacher, just ta feel confidant again.” Her joke was one that was slightly honest. What she’d withheld is how her heartbeat had sped up when he spoke of spending a night with her and how those confusing feelings had risen up again. Pierre went on to explain what she’d ordered to her, a grin resting on her lips. “I’m glad I managed ta make ah decent choice then!” As he spoke of how he should learn German if he wanted Katja winked at him, her lithe form still leaning across the table towards him. “Ja. With ah Lehrer like me et would be interesting. I promise I’ll be ah gut Lehrer.” She slipped in German at the end of her words, grinning sheepishly at Pierre. When he used the French name for the Germans and their language she smiled again, nodded her head in agreement with his statement. Letting out another low laugh she grinned as he spoke once more, both talking about dessert and asking her her age in the same go. “Ah bit o’ ah sweet tooth eh? An’ I guess I shoulda tell ye about me. Prepare ta fall in love.” Katja joked at the end, her smile growing as she made the jest. Tamping down those confusing feelings once again she began speaking, a slight blush coloring her cheeks. “I was born jus’ outside o’ Berlin, Germany. Ma mater and vater were always too busy working so I ‘ad what is tha English word? Ah. Baby-sitters. I started playing tha guitar when I was six an’ stuck with et. When I was around fifteen we moved ta the United States an’ ma parents finally took an interest in me fer their own reason o’ wanting ta appear ah ‘happy an’ successful family’. They introduced me ta tha people who are in tha band with me.” Katja paused in her short relay of her life, her tone slightly bitter when she’d spoken of her parents but growing warmer when she spoke of her band mates. “I’m ah senior in high school, though I really can’t attend due ta touring so we have ah sort of homework thing set up..” Katja grinned at Pierre, never having stopped leaning across the table from him even though the need to make a selection from the menu was gone. “I’m eighteen, still think I’m driving on tha wrong side o’ tha road, ha’e an adoration for black coffee, ma favorite band is as ye may o’ guessed, Rammstien. I believe anything caramel is delicious an’ tha’ tha French are amazing because of Nutella.” Katja rambled slightly, a smile on her lips as she spoke, winking once more at Pierre when she spoke of the French. Her husky German tones seemed slightly romantic in the dulled lighting of the atmosphere, her speech on herself intended just for the male before her. Many girls would have probably made a ploy at hitting on him by now, Katja herself being tempted by the idea. She knew Pierre was no novice when it came to women, and she certainly didn’t want him to group her in the same category as them so her voice lowered, the sound a lilting and husky near-whisper as she spoke of more personal things. “I ha’e na dated much, didna think I ‘ad time fer et while in school and everything with tha band. Even as ah virgin I dunna think I’m naïve, merely inexperienced eh.” As she spoke of how she’d never had sex Katja continued to keep her gaze on his face, her European traits showing as she was honest with him. She had nothing to be ashamed of in her opinion. Katja wasn’t against sex but she also wasn’t a one night stand type of young woman either. Because of her lack of dating she’d never really had the chance. And being in the restaurant with him at that moment made her slightly glad she hadn’t. Katja wasn’t sure how she’d feel if he saw her as someone dirty if she’d slept around a lot. Shifting slightly, and removing her hands from the menu as the waitress once more approached their tables with their salads she smiled at Pierre and leaned back finally to make room for their food. As the waitress managed to set their food before them and motion towards the menus Katja focused her attention on the woman. Katja spoke to the waitress attempting to blow off the slightly awkward moment she may have caused between her and Pierre with her honesty. “I’ll ha’e tha flamiche, danke.” The waitress wrote down Katja’s order clearly slightly thrown off with how the dark haired girl had used both French and German in the same sentence. Following the waitress’ gaze to Pierre, Katja reminded herself not to be irritated when the waitress leaned towards him, a larger smile on her face then the slightly bored look she’d had towards Katja. Waiting for him to order Katja grabbed up the menu that had been hers and handed it to the waitress as she prompted Pierre. With salads now between them Katja felt the pull towards Pierre again, but unable to lean against the table she smiled softly at him, her dark eyes meeting his own dark gaze, her mind hardly registering anything other than him sitting across from her. He had a way of making her forget everything that was occurring around her, her attention focused purely on him. Katja had a nagging feeling to ask him about himself but decided that he’d tell her when he wanted, and Katja had all the time in the world for the gorgeous Frenchman. Ignoring her salad for several moments she waited to see what his response to her words would be. notes || dawww <3 you didn't rant I promise

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TEMPLATE BY ANYA OF CAUTION 2.0
LYRICS BY A FINE FRENZY[/center]

[pierre cyrille de lamarliere;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,border-left: 10px solid #b43838; border-top: 10px solid #b43838; border-radius: 0em 2em 0em 2em; -moz-border-radius: 0em 2em 0em 2em; background-image:url(http://colourlovers.com.s3.amazonaws.com/images/patterns/1974/1974567.png), width: 400px; height: 400px;] She says this doesn't hurt  Pierre had to admit that he loved the smile of hers and it was addicting to see. He wouldn’t mind seeing the blush a couple more time either. It was nice though, to have someones company for no set amount of time. He was only in America for the band, and meeting Katja was just an amazing bonus which he would have hated missing. ”Oh, I wouldn’t have mind. As long as I can stay away from the stove anything would be fine with me,” he said, brown eyes twinkling from the lights. He had German food before, as he has traveled there and had grown up since he was young to enjoy different countries cuisine. Pierre laughed at her comment and replied, ”So it means I can woo girls by speaking French? Though I know the French women are immune, good or bad I shall not know.” He had charmed girls before by speaking in his language. They were already clinging to him before they even knew what it meant which just made him laugh. For all they knew he could have been insulting them, but it seemed that everything sounded better in a different language. He was always interested in languages though . Traveling was a hobby and submerging himself with the culture all around him was an interest of his. America though was somewhere he stayed longer then anywhere else, it may because of the duties for the band or the fact that he was in college and therefore he had more freedom. Pierre remembered the promise that he made to himself, to be adventurous while he was still young. He knew that eventually he’ll reach adulthood and then he would be tied down. ”Good luck, no?” He asked, before returning her laugh with a light-hearted laugh of his own. ”Is that a promise?” he asked, his self-confidence wouldn’t die when he stumbled over the words and so he would be perfectly fine learning. Hie incapacity to blush was also helpful,  though it would be the day pigs fly if you even catch Pierre embarrassed. ”Then I promise to be a good student and I’m sure you’ll be an amazing teacher, probably more interesting then the teachers I had back in highschool,” he said, using her words. He hated his teachers and tutors alike they were absolutely boring with no sense humor in them. ”Ah, it may actually be a bit more then a sweet tooth I have to say. I’m a slight sugar addict sometimes, France must have spoiled me,” he replied, before listening intently. It was interesting to hear about her life and he studied her facial expressions closely. She seemed to not be on the greatest terms with her parents, and so he made a note to never ask. There was a slight flirtatious tone in her voice, but nothing too bad. Of course he did have women pressing against him just when he opened his mouth. "I wouldn't ever think you were naive, inexperience seems to be the right word,” he said in all honesty, long fingers just brushing against hers before tucking them under his chin. He didn't find the moment of truth awkward, it meant she trusted him and that was important. She was forward about anything, her honesty amazed him. Pierre knew people who were ashamed to be virgins and tried to get with anyone they could, or they took to lying. Before he could speak, the waitress came back. He leaned back to prevent torturing the waitress any longer so she could place the salad in front of them. He saw Katja leaned back also and ordering the food also, before the waitress turned towards him. The smile on her face was one he was used to seeing so Pierre simply brushed it off before giving her a smile of his own. ”Vegetarian terrine, please.” He watched her scribble the order down before walking away saying she’ll be back soon. He then took the time to assess the situation. Picking up the salad work and stabbing the crisp salad he took a bite before putting it back to its regular position. ”It’s only fair for me to give you my life story in return. Lets see, I was born in Paris, France and I mostly lived there though we did have a country house out in the less populated area of France. I was born on February 29, which means I could say that I was three and be correct, but really I’m nineteen. My family is wealthy, which meant that I was spoiled throughout my life. My dad’s a CEO and my mom was, maybe is I’m not quite sure, a fashion designer. I guess you could say my family was filthy rich? I picked up drums along with various other things such as English thanks to my parents. I traveled all over the Europe and parts of Asia for fun during the breaks for school. My mom made time for me and taught me manners and I was dragged along being shown to the world as their son. I then went to America, I guess for a change? I was living by myself for a bit before I joined the band. My parents are still in France and I try to find free time to visit. My parents are convinced that it’s a phase and honestly I’m quite sure it’s one too. I promised to return later on and follow my dad’s footsteps while taking on the business. It also means that I took business courses online as they don’t want me fall behind in my studies. I also have an online tutor,” Pierre said before forward slightly.  His voice dropped lower, as his accent became more prominent. "I honestly don't believe in love. I never have, even when I was young. I mean, I care about my parents but all those things about love I just don't believe in it. I'm not so inexperienced in the area of, well dating. I seem to have gathered a slight reputation from it too," he said softly not wanting anyone to hear the private conversation. Pierre didn't outrightly say he wasn't a virgin but the way he out it should speak for themselves. It wasn't as if virginity was something he held on to, sex before marriage and chastity all got thrown out the window during puberty. He leaned back into his chair, allowing Katja to process the blurb of information he gave out. Pierre grabbed his fork once again and silently ate, waiting for her reaction. It would be her decision if she wanted to continue on, the full of extent of his relationships were still kept hidden but he gave the basic information.  She says I finally had enough

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Made by Pancake of WUU, don't steal or use without her knowing else you will be chopped up and hand fed your own body parts C:

[katja dione dietrich;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc172/damijoandamija/sbg.jpg); padding-left: 50px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-top: 10px;] near to you you and i have something different, and i'm enjoying it, cautiously. i'm battle scarred, i am working oh so hard to get back to who i used to be. he's disappearing, fading, suddenly. i'm so close to being yours, won't you stay with me... please? words || 1,219 || tag || pierre! || outfit || as seen in image The conversation between them was light, easy and it caused Katja to focus on nothing but him. She supposed the setting of the restaurant was also something to be glad for. No conversation could be private at a diner where college students and such poured into but in a clearly more expensive restaurant the crowd with a lower budget filtered out. Katja herself had never wanted for money, merely the attention of her parents. She knew that they cared for her, and they provided for their family with ease yet remained aloof. Katja had been slightly jealous at first when she'd moved to America and hadn't made any sort of friends, and when she finally had Katja had been jealous about the family dinners they had together every night. As she was learning, important and meaningful conversations could take place over a dinner table, and Katja knew she'd remember this dinner forever. Letting out a small laugh as he spoke of not minding the cooking as long as he was no where near to stove. Grinning still and shaking her head slightly at him she let the conversation drop, his next words once again capturing her full attention. Katja was amazed slightly at how focused she was on talking to him. Usually when talking to others she was always changing the subject just so the conversation could hold her attention yet she wasn't having to do that. He made her smile. "Bah! You'd ha'e better luck speaking French ta woo girls then I would speaking German ta woo guys." Not that she'd ever tried. In Germany of course she'd spoken German but so had everyone else so it wasn't anything special. In America however, she'd spoke it a few times, especially at first when her English had been really rough. Then she'd been practically plowed over by not just males but females, asking her to translate things. Of course, the most often question from girls was how to say I love you while the guys had wanted to know swear words since Germans were famous for having dirty mouths. Katja had no trouble imagining how people reacted to hearing him speak French. She'd been enraptured, and she'd heard French many times. As he spoke and laughed about her becoming his German teacher Katja grinned, her own husky laugh joining in with his. "Ja! If yer a gut schuler, then I'll be a gut lehrer an' you will be seen as more charming then before because we Germans ha'e ah way with words." Katja was already feeling pity for the girls. Most would be sold just by looking at him. Katja becoming to grow attached though, to the person behind the handsome mask. When he finally responded to her out-pour of things about her she watched him closely, her lips dropping from a flirtacious grin to one of a more serious note, warmth running through her as he accepted her words without complaint and even said he didn't find her naive. A shiver raced up her arm as his slender fingers touched her and Katja fought the urge to reach for his hand as she allowed a warm smile to spread across her lips. He'd accepted her, her past, and hadn't judged her nor ridiculed her. As he also leaned back the distance between them seemed farther so Katja kept her arms on the table. As he ordered his own food Katja breathed a sigh of release. She wasn't sure she'd have been able to watch a flirting session, especially when she was silently growing to like him, a crush as some American's might say. As he ate some of his salad Katja picked up her own fork and did the same, closing her eyes as she tasted the vinegarette, by far one of the better vinegarette's she'd had in such a while. Opening her eyes and seeing that Pierre's features had grown serious she set down her fork, her dark hues locked with his blue ones. Hearing him talk about himself warmed her as well as made her appreciate him more. Of course he'd never wanted of money, she'd guessed that much, but he certainly hadn't treated her badly. And she'd seen how he treated animals. Pierre was comfortable in his own skin, and that was admirable. As he continued speaking Katja felt as if he was hollowing out a place inside her just for himself, keeping a small smile resting on her lips and nodding occasionally as he spoke. Katja completely understood him. She herself had been put on display by her parents, a prize more then a human being. Yet Pierre obviously had taken it in stride whereas she'd grown negative. He'd made something of himself in a different country, one where no one would know his name. And now, many many others knew his name simply because of his band. It was inspiring, and Katja felt that he was endeared to her. When he spoke of his experience she knew what he was saying, that he certainly had had sex before. She couldn't help but smile a bit at the fact that he'd said it so politely where she'd admitting to being a virgin. The French and their charming personalities and the German with their seriousness and straight forwardness. Reaching across the table and touching her fingers to his, unable to resist touching him in some way, Katja smiled. "You're verra accomplished, an' for that I admire you. As fer love, no one is breathing down yer throat so ta speak. It's like... Eine Stecknadel im Heuhaufen suchen. Finding ah needle in tha haystack. Plus, Rom ist auch nicht an einem Tag erbaut worden. Rome wasna built in one day." Katja believed in love, and believed that it happened when you least expected it. And Katja had full faith in Pierre that he would be able to feel that, one day. "Now tha' tha skeletons are out o' the closet so ta speak.." Katja grinned, picking up her fork once more and continuing to eat. The salad was perfect, and the bread looked mouth-watering though she'd refrained from trying some. Putting her fork down as she finished her salad she reached across the table and grabbed a piece of the round bread. Smiling up at Pierre she reached for the bread, her fingertips leaving their place by his as she held the bread and tapped her fingers against the hard shell. "At least they know tha French bread is hard on tha outside." Grinning once more Katja broke the bread in half, offering a piece to Pierre. "In Germany I woulda said ah cheers to us in German o'er ah glass o' Pilsner, but seeing as how tha American's have ah drinking age o' twenty-one, I'll offer ye this hear bread." Pausing she smiled warmly at him, her slender arm stretched across the table as she offered him the bread. "Genieße das Leben ständig! Du bist länger tot als lebendig! Prost uns!" Grinning and playfully raising her bread to Pierre as the husky and deep German poured from her lips she repeated her toast in English. "Constantly enjoy life! You're longer dead than alive! Cheers to us!" Laughing in her husky tones she bit into her bread, dark hues glowing as she enjoyed the bread, close to a true French bread. notes || Katja really likes him xD

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LYRICS BY A FINE FRENZY[/center]

[pierre cyrille de lamarliere;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=style,border-left: 10px solid #b43838; border-top: 10px solid #b43838; border-radius: 0em 2em 0em 2em; -moz-border-radius: 0em 2em 0em 2em; background-image:url(http://colourlovers.com.s3.amazonaws.com/images/patterns/1974/1974567.png), width: 400px; height: 400px;] She says this doesn't hurt Pierre relaxed in the private atmosphere of the restaurant, he was always stared at whether in France or America. The restaurant was quiet save for few strands of conversations reaching his ears and the soft clatter of utensils. He gave her a soft smile that reached his eyes. He let out a chuckle at that, he already knew he was irresistible to a lot of girls. ”I’ll sure be charming a lot of girls then, course if you learning French would have the same effects for a guy,” Pierre said knowing it was perfectly true. He became less tensed when she didn’t seem to want to leave. It would be awkward for them to eat in silence and then leave as if nothing ever happened. He smiled at her words, it was nice to feel like you accomplished something by yourself. Pierre thought of it as another step to being independent and maturity in life. ”Thank you, and I would have to say the same for you. Still in high school and being in a band? You’re all full of sayings aren’t you? Wise ones, too,” he said smiling. It was one of the reasons why he could never, for the life of him, maintain a proper relationship with a girl. They would say it to soon, or they would cling and try to force him to say something that seemed so untrue leaving his mouth. It defiantly never turned out for the better when they tried pushing him thinking that he was just nervous or being shy. All of these reasons led him to never having a single successful relationship. Though, Katja, seemed to have so much faith in him, which just allowed him to smile brighter. He felt cool fingers touching his, and without breaking eye contact knew if was Katja. He responded to it by gently intertwining his fingers with hers, before withdrawing and returning to his food. It was his way of showing that he accepted her touch and didn’t mind the random show of affection.. The food was quite good, and the bread looked fresh, which already gave them points with him. Pierre once again picked up his fork and started on the salad. He ate a normal pace, all the habits and mannerisms he had picked up when in France, shown every once in awhile. Blue eyes watched her hand travel to the bread basket and breaking one piece in half. He reached over, grinning, and took the offered piece. Pierre listened to the makeshift toast, slightly missing the taste of alcohol just because of the sake of tradition. It’s not like he can even legally get a sip of wine here with their incredibly high legal drinking age. ”To live life to it’s fullest, cheers to us,” he said agreeing to her words. To live it without a day of boredom, to live it with happiness as if every day is our last. He gently ripped off a smaller piece of the bread to eat it. It was certainly better then some of the past ones he had here in America. She says I finally had enough

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Made by Pancake of WUU, don't steal or use without her knowing else you will be chopped up and hand fed your own body parts C:

[katja dione dietrich;]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-image: url(http://i217.photobucket.com/albums/cc172/damijoandamija/sbg.jpg); padding-left: 50px; padding-bottom: 20px; padding-top: 10px;] near to you you and i have something different, and i'm enjoying it, cautiously. i'm battle scarred, i am working oh so hard to get back to who i used to be. he's disappearing, fading, suddenly. i'm so close to being yours, won't you stay with me... please? words || 559 || tag || pierre! || outfit || as seen in image For one who's never committed herself to a serious relationship Katja had had many flirtacious friends. It was human nature to want to attract others, and each country had it's own method of doing so. The French dressed in high fashion and were always like boards in Katja's opinion. The Germans took a more natural route, laying low on the makeup and being themselves with another. And the Americans had chosen to slather on the makeup and alter their bodies with ridiculous surgeries. If there was one thing a person from another country had going for them in America it was the fact that they were adored for their accents and strange words for things. Katja knew that Pierre could've gone out with any other female on that night and instead he'd asked her to come out with him. And true to her German nature, she planned on entertaining him in good fashion. "Well, as soon as ye deem me gut enough I'll show off my skills an' we'll see if any male woulda be attracted ta ah German who can speak French." Katja grinned at him, her dark hues raising to meet his deep blues and ignored the urge to reach out and once again touch him. They were merely friends, and she should be glad with that. Taking another bite of her bread and salad and chasing it down with water she smiled at Pierre, glad he'd at least accepted her earlier touch as she attempted to ward off how loud her heart had beat when he'd momentarily laced their fingers. "Bah. We Germans like ta show off our intelligence, dunna go giving me a big head now!" Winking at Pierre, Katja dropped her attention back down to her food as she finished off her bread and salad. When he'd cheered to them she'd grinned and nodded. Katja had learned that it's easiest to just live day by day. She found that if she attempted to worry about things that hadn't even happened then she wasn't happy and neither was anyone around her. And for a girl who'd been practically abandoned by her parents and merely used as a tool to lure investors in Katja much preferred the freedom that the band had given her. Her parents were perfectly fine with Katja being miles away from them as long as she wasn't featured in blogs and papers as a disgrace. Glancing up from Pierre's face she caught the waitress coming towards them and forced herself to smile at the woman who clearly was attracted to her date. As the waitress put Katja's plate in front of her Katja went out of her way to help the waitress situate the plate on the table, thinking that that would prevent the waitress from shoving her chest towards him. Biting back a growl as the waitress went ahead with it anyways Katja merely rolled her eyes and gave Pierre a soft 'I'm sorry' smile. Apparently some females were just desperate. As the waitress finally pulled away after clearing their plates Katja shot Pierre and enthusiastic grin. "Canna take ye anywhere." Her only comment on the waitress was meant to make him smile, and brought one to her own lips. Glancing back down to her plate she grinned back up at Pierre. "Now let's see if they canna cook like tha French eh?" notes || <333

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[pierre cyrille de lamarliere;]

(OCC: My wrist hurts for no reason and I'll grab the code later x.x Just needed to give you a post)


It was really all innocent flirting, where the exchange of words that should hold no serious meanings deeper then attraction. Anything else would be strange, they have only awhile ago and only talked once. He was one that wasn’t quick on sorting out his emotions, as they can be tricky and disguise themselves as another feeling. Hence, he viewed it as he was fond on her and he certainly wanted her friendship. The attraction was also there as her accent and looks soothed him and she was an easy to like person, but until the time comes he would not look nor judge any further then that.

”Oh, we’ll see men running to fight for your hand,” Pierre said, staring into her eyes. Brown were considered a dull colour to have for eyes, yet hers conveyed lovely emotions that he had to question why people thought so. He was slightly disappointed when she removed eye contact to continue on eating, he rather liked their short staring contest. He then quickly returned to his bread, listening as she continued on their conversation. He gave her a soft chuckle, her humor was certainly something. ”Then show it off, I’m sure it’s something to brag about,” he replied giving her a quick smile.

He never cared particular so for his status in wealth. He allowed his parents to flaunt him like a trophy and be practically an object to brag about. Pierre then thought of how he should be better in contact with his parents, though he never did very well staying away from those paparazzi people. Maybe he would visit France again.

Out of the corner of his eye, Pierre saw the waitress coming with their food. A charming smile rested on his face again as she stopped in front of their table. He knew she was attracted to him, especially with the way she tried to attract his attention with her, uh, chest. Amusement shone when he noticed Katja noticed that their waitress had an interest in him. He gave her a soft smile with actions that seemed to be out of jealousy. Jealousy suited her rather cutely, he thought. He mouthed, ‘calm down’ to her and returned back to the waitress. He helped her quickly adjust the plates to their correct spots before giving her a thank you.

He watched the waitress, clear amusement still in his eyes. He laughed at her comment, ”You may have to get use to it though. I plan to take you out a lot more,” he said. It was true that he had women fawn over him even when he was out, there were occasions when multiple women would try their luck, but really he had enough morals to not respond how they would want to. ”Let’s see if they can come close,” Pierre answered back, taking a bite out of his food.