Every time he cried it rained in heaven.

Claude started out at the lake, sitting on the bank with his legs in the water, trousers rolled up as high as they'd go, though they were probably still going to get wet. He couldn't bring himself to really care though, he was too busy taking comfort in the calming, familiar feeling of the water against his skin.

Man he was becoming a real downer. He needed something to pick him up. Like cotton candy. Or kittens. Kittens always cheered everyone up. Who couldn't resist the adorable face of a kitten? No one. Except maybe a heartless-

Calm down. Totally overreacting. Stop being a girl.

Claude tossed the stone he was playing with into the river, watching it plop and sink without a single skip. That might've had something to do with the fact it wasn't flat though. Seriously, where was a kitten when you needed one?

The thing right now that Élodie desired more than anything was a cigarette, and she couldn't be bothered to walk off of campus to have one. She knew that it wasn't exactly within the rules to smoke on site, but she figured that if she went to the lake or something where they couldn't see her, she'd be fine. She knew for a fact of several people who spent the majority of their time smoking down here, and as far as she knew they hadn't been caught. And besides, she was French. It was practically a rite of passage to be able to smoke wherever. As far as she was concerned she had come out of the womb with a cigarette in hand.

As she approached the lake, flicking her lighter to ignite her cigarette, Élodie recognised the boy already down there, her lips quirking upwards. If it wasn't her French buddy. He'd surely want a cigarette, wouldn't he?

Though he didn't look particularly happy at the moment. Her eyebrows shot up as he attempted to skim what looked like the stupidest rock she had ever seen. Biting her lip, she shrugged, waiting to hear what was up. "Alors, quoi de neuf?" she asked, smirking, dropping to the ground next to him and offering him the cigarette packet lazily.

Claude nearly - nearly - jumped when he heard a familiar voice speak in a familiar language. He really didn't need to look to see who it was, but did, watching the girl sit down next to him and offer him her packet of cigarettes. The distraction was welcome, so he took one, sniffing it before he answered. There was nothing wrong with liking the smell.

"Nothing much, you?" would it be weird for him to use her to unload? That would be kind of mean. She was his French-buddy though. He had to admit it was as comforting as the water. "Just girl problems." He was going to have that song stuck in his head for days now.

"Do you ever come and look at this lake and wonder exactly how deep it is? Like, it's a beautiful lake, but when you look at a swimming pool the bottom always looks closer than it is until you jump in and realise you can't touch the floor."

Élodie grinned and shrugged as Claude replied, raising her eyebrows as he seemed to just sniff the cigarette she had offered him. "You know, it works better if you actually light it," she said to him, smirking, before offering him the lighter. "Not that I'll complain if you don't smoke it. All the more for me."

She raised her eyebrows a little more at girl problems, before nodding. "Oh. Of course. That time of the month? Your boobs are huge today." She kicked her shoes off and dangled a leg in the lake, inhaling more of the smoke. "Anything I can help you with?" she asked jovially.

Okay, something was definitely up. Claude was being deep. And he was aware he was being deep, talking about depth. Of water, but still. Or something. Though it did make her wonder. "I'd like to imagine it had no bottom," she said, shrugging. "That would be cool. Like Spyro, where there were secret worlds." She blew out a cloud of smoke and grinned. "So what's up, then?"

"You wish I wouldn't smoke it. There's nothing wrong with enjoying how something smells, like...fine wine, or something," he gestured for her lighter. "Come on then, hit me with your fire."

Claude gave a tired sigh, shrugging helplessly. "I know, I can't tell you how much my back hurts, I feel like I'm pregnant or something, ready to punch the next boy who looks at me funny, I'm telling you. So glad I have my gurlfriends to understand."

"That would be so epic," Claude agreed, leaning over slightly as if that would help him see to the bottom. "One day I am so going to try and swim down to see if there's another world down there."

He gave another shrug at Élodie's question. "I'll sound like a girl. I already feel like a girl enough. I just...expected more out of someone than I should've. Disappointment and all that fun stuff."

"Okay, fair enough," Élodie agreed, smirking. "Though the smell is only half the goodness. The taste of fine wine is obviously something to count by, and the feeling it gives you is perhaps the most important. Though I'm sure you have peachy keen lungs thanks to your resistance. Your mother would be proud, Claude Delanoir."

She grinned as he mock-complained and nodded. "Oh I know. Those cramps murder. You poor little girl. How do you cope? So bravely." That was what she liked about Claude. He could take a joke. He could take a joke well.

"Good luck with that," she snorted, folding her arms. "Don't mind if I don't join you, will you? I'll spectate from dry land."

Ah. So this was the problem. "You always sound like a girl," she told him, before gesturing with the hand her cigarette was perched on for him to continue, taking another drag. "Oh, expectations are a bitch," she muttered, looking at her friend with a slight frown. "What do you mean? Who's upset you? Shall I go set fire to their bedsheets or something? I wouldn't mind, you know."

"I have to admit, sometimes I wonder if I drink wine too fast to actually register the taste. Or remember the taste. The end of the night usually ends up in blindness rather than happy tastebuds," was that something to worry about? "And hey, if I'm going to destroy my liver, I should at least try keep my lungs clean. Though you coming here and making me passive smoke isn't helping. Ew, gross smoker."

"I am. I am the pinicle of bravery, facing the world with these cramps OH how lucky are you to be graced with my presence," he lent back on his elbows, observing the cigarette in his hands. "I would expect you to stay and spectate, and fish out my body if I die. Who know what's in there. There might be a giant unicorn-pufferfis hybrid ready to eat my face off."

He chuckled as she offered to set fire to bedsheets, ignoring the kind of violent tendencies and just being happy that it was some kind of affection. "Nah, Theo might kill me, seeing as it is his little sister, and I doubt he wants her to be in too much pain. She..." he sighed, running a hand through his hair, sticking the end of the cigarette in his mouth, leaning forward to get the end of hers. "Let's destroy my lungs before I talk about this."

"You're French, you don't need to recognise the taste of fine wine, only to consume it," Élodie replied, shrugging and taking another drag of her cigarette. "Smoke, drink, slag off the English. It's very difficult, non?" She batted him as he called her a gross smoker, raising her eyebrows. "Though obviously you do not live up to your superior heritage. Good grief Claude, to think you claim to be French."

"The pinnacle of bravery!" she agreed, punching the air with a fist and laughing. "I could never doubt you. I really am graced. Gosh, you big plum. What did I ever do to deserve such an honour?"

She frowned, wrinkling her nose. "Theo's the feminine one, yes? And his sister is the bitch? The very attractive bitch, but the bitch nonetheless." And evidently more of one than she'd heard because Claude seemed to really not want to talk about her. Instead, she shrugged, letting him get on with it, and passed him her lighter. "You know, I am a magician. I could do terrible things to her if you so wanted me to. In the meantime, I am all for the steady destruction of your lungs. It's a great habit."