the days tick away - closed

[Gavin Dewhurst]

do not ask the price i pay,
(I MUST LIVE WITH MY QUIET RAGE)
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“You sure then?” the words came out far more confidant than he actually felt. He felt like there was something rattling around the inside of his head. He didn't know how to contain himself, for the past week he had been getting a pounding in his head that was making his vision swim. He had submitted himself into the infirmary late last night. Thankfully, he had been the only one in the entire wing. He had even been forced to rouse the nurse from her bed to tend to him. He had fallen over shortly after. Something like this had never happened to him before. He had been hit by people, Quidditch balls and bats, knocked off of his broom more times than he could count, broken more than his share of bones. Yet, this was something new to him. He rolled down the sleeves of his black button down shirt to the proper place and fastened the cuffs around his wrist. She had taken blood, put all sorts of charms and testing jinxes of him, but said that it was nothing more than a stress induced migraine. ”Yes deary, you should try to get some more rest than you do, you sports types always push yourself too hard” she was talking to him like he was a normal child, like one of the common rabble. He didn't care of it. He was many times her junior, but he still expected to be addressed with some semblance of reverence, he was a Dewhurst after all. He doubted that she had spoken to his elder brother like this. Everett always got the respect he wished. ”Stress of the last school year I'm sure, it has this effect on some people” She was toiling away, putting bottles back on the shelves, returning his shoes to him and tidying up while he redressed himself. He didn't much care for her comparing him to the rest of the student body either, he knew for a fact that he was better than just about everybody within the walls of this school. Yet, she was talking to him just like everybody else did.

He could feel his eyes narrowing, the pounding in his head still ever present as he moved toward his shoes and slipped them back on his feet. “That must be it” his voice trailed off, choosing, perhaps wisely, not to comment on her digressions as he gathered his jacket and started to head toward the door. “Do you need anything else from me, or can I be on my way?” he didn't think that he needed any tonic for a simple headache. He just wished that he could pinpoint the exact cause so that he could fix it. Quickly. She shook her head, no longer even looking at him. No doubt she was in a hurry to catch a nap to regain some of the hours of sleep he had forced her to lose last night. She waived her hand at him in afterthought, dismissing him. Rolling his eyes none too subtly he pushed open the door and left it to bang shut behind him. He couldn't even remember what it was that he was doing last night before he had headed down here. He hadn't been making any prefect rounds, he had been in his dorms on time. Like he was expected to, his mother was watching his every move these days it seemed. No doubt she had paid somebody in his dorm to wire her information of his whereabouts, his contacts, whatever hours he spent doing anything other than sleeping. Perhaps she was monitoring that as well. He knew that she had already invested a ton of money so far and was reluctant to see even a knut of it go to waste. He was an investment to her in this moment, and would continue to be until she gave him access to his trust and had him married off to the woman she had chosen. Lucinda. That was what he had been doing. He had received a late owl from Pearl that night, asking why he couldn't be bothered to even write a letter to his betrothed. She was set to arrive at the school within the month, and while she needed to know the exact final details of the party he was throwing to break in his new house as well as celebrate the day of his birth, he should have been putting forth the effort to get to know his future bride, not running around with some trollop.

Perhaps that had been what had done him in, the thoughts of Amina and his mother again. No doubt that was enough to put just about anybody over the edge. Before he knew it, his brain had been so lost in thought that his feet had carried him all the way back to the entrance of the Slytherin common room. Fishing deep within his pocket he produced the offending letter from Pearl. He knew that it had to be done, and he still had some time before breakfast. Most of the men from his dorm would be at practice right now or out running as they were want to do. The nurse had pulled him from the practice roster today as a precaution, so he would just have to make up the lesson tomorrow. In the mean time, he might as well appease the old woman. No doubt she would only make things worse on him here if he didn't heed her wishes. His eyes scanned over the words again, his eyes lingering on the references to his summer and the way that he had chosen to spend it. Even longer on the insults that she was spewing at him, she wouldn't be made a fool of. They had always been a warm family unit until Pearl felt crossed. Generally, that was the only time that she actually felt like a mother, stern and controlling. His feet descended down the steps to his dorm, not passing a soul to question his reverence along the way. He was oddly grateful for the space that everybody seemed to be giving him as of late. He had no doubts that his reputation was still in tact, the rumors still circulating about his conquests as they had all other years, that would go on even if he were long since dead. People wanted to feel popular by association these days, he hoped that most people just assumed he was under a lot of pressure to pick the professional team that he was going to play for after the school year ended. He hoped that was why they thought that his temper was a little more short than they were used to. He would have been happy enough to sulk away in his room until Lucinda arrived, he was going to have to do more than his share of pretending then anyway, why couldn't he have these past few months to himself? He couldn't spend them the way that he had really wanted to after all.

Pushing open the door to his dorm with his foot he crossed to his bed, directly across from his friend, Regulus' bed, he and Evan were likely at practice with Kariana and the rest of the seventh years. There hadn't been very many new players on the team this year. Generally there was supposed to be some rotation, but Kariana was determined to spend her last year at the school properly, though she had been distracted as well. No doubt she had her own troubles, she hadn't been speaking to him very much as of late. He wasn't sure why, but it seemed that he was covering for her more and more and yet got the truth of her situation from him even less. He would have thought that whenever she had heard of him and Amina breaking things off, she would have been there to, er, comfort him and yet, nothing. He couldn't even bring himself to ask her what was really happening. Kicking his shoes off he tossed his jacket on the still made bedspread. The house elves usually made their appearance every morning during breakfast to tidy up and do laundry, so he really was alone in his room. Pulling off the shirt he had only just put back on a half hour ago he tossed it to the ground and threw the letter he had been staring at on the small desk he had claimed as his own so many years ago before sliding into the chair that accompanied it. It was one of two desks in their room that had a window to look out of. While it didn't usually offer much help or distraction while doing homework or studying because it overlooked one of the deepest parts of the great lake, he found the green water to be soothing. Every now and then something would swim up and keep him company, but usually it was quiet, which was what he needed right about now anyway. Pulling a blank letter and envelope that had been so conveniently sent to him last week by his mother, with the official Dewhurst letterhead and everything, and smoothed it out over the desk. His ink was a simple deep navy, he didn't want to put too much thought into it. Yet, it wasn't long before a small puddle of the ink was seeping into the corner where his quill sat for too long.

He had no idea what to say to this woman, he knew nothing about her other than her first name. Not her family or what she even looked like. He assumed that she was going to be his age and attractive, he felt that his mother would do at least that much for him. Yet, there was no assurances. He penned out the greeting 'Dearest Lucinda' and felt sick, he didn't mean the words, and there were only two of them so far. Offending him at the top of the small sheet of stationary. Dropping the quill, a few more droplets of ink spattered out over the page as Gavin shoved himself away from the desk, his hands running through his hair and down his tired face. Why was this so hard? Why did he have such a deep protest to get to know this woman? He had known that this was coming for so long, years and years now. He had nobody to blame but himself. He should have spent his summer writing her, it was the correct thing to do after all. Slapping himself on the side of the face to wake up and focus he pulled back into the chair, and started to write whatever boring, rehearsed pleasantry's that came to the forefront of his brain.

Dearest Lucinda,

I hope that this own finds you in good time. I do not know for certain the destination that my owl is being sent, so I can only hope that this is the right person. It is my intent to get to know the woman that I am to marry in such a short time a little better. Please, if you find this to be too forward or intrusive don't waste your hand with a reply though I will answer any questions you have for me in return should you wish to ask. How was your summer? My mother(whom I assume you know well by this point) and I spent the majority of ours traveling and settling on the house that you and I will call our home. I do hope that you like rustic architecture. Is there anything that I can do to prepare better for your arrival?

-Gavin Abel Dewhurst

The letter was stupid, he knew that before he even sent it, and yet he didn't feel like putting forth the effort into even rewriting it only a page without all the splotches and stains. He stuffed it into an envelope, addressed it to her and sent his owl to circle up through the dorm and out the rafters of the castle. He was the fastest owl that money could buy, so no doubt, if he was going to get a reply at all, it would be sooner than later. He felt like he was going to lose the breakfast that he hadn't even consumed yet. Grabbing the soft green towels that were provided for him three times daily per his request he headed out of the dorm room and toward the showers of his dorm. He might as well get ready for the day, it was going to be expected of him none the less. While he would have much rather spent the time catching up on sleep like the nurse was no doubt doing at this very moment, he had classes, he would be missed and he really didn't want people bothering him with innane questions if he could avoid it. Draping the towel over the metal heaters installed next to the large window he stripped the rest of his clothing and headed into the shower. Perhaps he could find a way to wash off the events of the last few months. Merlin, what he wouldn't give for a fresh start.

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tame these ghosts in my head,
(THAT RUN WILD AND WISH ME DEAD)

words: 2,204
outfit: This after shower
tags: Lucinda
notes:none.
credit: gabs of a different color; @ caution 2.0

[Lucinda Roxane Belrose]

Lucinda was leaning against the headboard of her bed as she waited for the female at her toes to finally finish her last toe nail. Miranda was always entirely too slow giving pedicures, but despite her slowness, Lucinda preferred her to do it. She had steady hands and had yet to have to redo a nail yet. It was manicure and pedicure day after all. The girls always set one day aside a week where they would come back to Lucinda and Maria’s room to get all of their nails done so they looked human once more. Today had been that day. There were five girls in total in the room, two on Lucinda’s bed and three on Maria’s. They were all still dressed in their blue Beauxbaton dresses, their gloves and jackets draping over the bedposts with their shoes on the floor next to the bed. Bare feet were all around, each with a colorful foam separator and drying nail polish. With a French fashion magazine lying across her legs, Lucinda was hardly paying attention to the conversation going on around her. Today she didn’t feel much like participating, only to reap the benefits of others mooching off of her popularity. She hardly ever did anyone else’s nails, just got them to do her own. Lucinda had a bad feeling Maria was starting to learn her ways because she, too, was paying more attention to the book in her lap then she was the girls sitting on her bed tending to each other’s fingernails.

The tapping on the window didn’t initially get the intention of the girls in the room. It took a few more taps before it was audible over the giggling emitting from the two blue clad females on Maria’s bed. Lucinda’s eyes were probably the last to fall upon the shadow of the owl outside of her window, but she was the first to get up off her bed. She walked carefully towards the window, being sure not to smudge the nail polish her friend had just placed upon her toes. The small foam toe separators squished between her toes as she stopped walking at the window and propped it open. Fortunately it was a rather decent day outside for it being October so she didn’t mind leaving the window open as the owl hopped in. With a single finger, she lightly scratched it behind the ear. It hooted softly and, in response, Lucinda chuckled softly and held her hand out. It gladly moved onto her hand and allowed her to carry it through towards her desk. All of the girls in the room were now aware to the owls presence. Two of them were cooing at its cuteness while the other seemed to be repulsed by an animal being in the room. Lucinda just disregarded them. They always seemed to be upset if anything wasn’t what they wanted. Never did she understand why but she never cared to find out. After all, how much longer would she know these girls? Months? Chances are none of them would be in contact after graduation. They were only here to get talked about because they were around Lucinda. It was the consequences of having a well-known family. No one else in the room really could relate.

As she let the owl hop off her hand and onto the back of her chair, Lucinda gently removed the small piece of parchment from its leg before sitting down and rolling it out on the desk. ”‘Oo ees it from?” one of the girls asked as she spun around on Maria’s bed and laid on her stomach, being as careful with her fingernails as Lucinda had been with her toes. Lucinda looked over the small piece of parchment, her eyes trying to recognize the handwriting but she couldn’t place it, especially with all fo the ink blotches and smudges across the page. So, instead, she did the easiest thing she could do: she looked at the signature. The moment her eyes fell upon his first name, a smile broke across her lips and she quickly devoured the rest of the words in the letter. Only one girl in the room knew about Lucinda’s upcoming engagement and marriage, and she planned to keep it that way. If she told many of the other girls, she would be obligated to invite them to the wedding and there were a few she would rather do without if she could help it. Not to mention they would all feel like they would be the obvious choice for her wedding party. “An old friend,” she replied, as she allowed the paper to coil up again. She turned to the girls and waved her hands at them, ushering them to leave. She didn’t need them around to respond to a letter, especially this one. When they began to give pouty faces, she rolled her eyes and turned around and waited for them to leave. “Finish zem in your room,” she commented as one girl questioned why they had to leave before they were done with her manicure. It was no skin off Lucinda’s back. Her toes were just about dry and her manicure was still fresh from the last trip into town.

Most of them began packing up their things in a huff except for Maria who knew better then to get angry at Lucinda’s request. If she was asking for privacy, it was for a good reason. While the others left, Maria crossed her legs across her own bed and cocked her head to the side. Lucinda waited for the door to click shut before she turned around in her chair again, beaming. The owl was taken aback by her quick movement and flew up into the air, landing across the room on another chair. “It’s him, right?” Maria asked as she suddenly got just as happy as Lucinda. “’ees asking about my summer,” she responded, spinning around in her chair again and pulling out a slightly larger sized piece of parchment from her desk drawer along with one of her royal blue ink quills. It didn’t take her long to get the words in her head onto the parchment.

Mon Cheri Gavin,

It is good to hear from you. I have been counting down the days until we meet at your birthday party. Your mother has told me so much about you, including in helping pick out what I feel is a birthday gift you will enjoy. My summer sounds similar to yours, actually. My mother and I took most of the summer to travel around France and visit our favorite places one last time, then joined my father for the last portion of it in Paris.

There is little doubt in my mind I will approve of the home you have chosen for us, especially if your mother assisted in the decision. Her taste is impeccable. For that same reason, I cannot find anything you may need to prepare for. Is there anything I should be aware of before my arrival in Austria?

Bises!
Lucinda Roxane Belrose

She looked over the letter two times before wrapping it up and turning to find where the owl had flown to. It was still across the room on the chair, waiting for her excitement to be over. She stood up and slowly walked over to the small creature. It allowed her to wrap the note around its leg before it flew out the still open window. Once she was sure it was gone, Lucinda shut the window and turned around quickly. With excited eyes and a grin, she walked back to her desk to pack up the materials again. She was sure it would be a while till a response would come back. She just had to wait and, in the meantime, talk with Maria so they could speculate even more about what he would be like. Pearl had done a good job of explaining him, but she couldn’t help but hope there was much more to him than she had descripted.

Words | 1,347
Tag | Gavin
Outfit | Click

[Gavin Dewhurst]

do not ask the price i pay,
(I MUST LIVE WITH MY QUIET RAGE)
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It was too hot. It was too cold. No matter how he turned the temperature dials the water didn't feel right. It smelt too strongly, it was too soft to even rinse the shampoo out of his hair. Gavin knew on some level, that there was nothing wrong with the water. He had taken hundreds of showers in this very stall over the course of the last six and a half years, he knew all of the dials to set to get the water just how he wanted. He didn't even need to look any longer, he took about three showers on the average day, they wouldn't have changed the settings now, after all of this time. So the problem was obviously him. He was just attempting to find something else to complain about. Anything other than thinking about Amina all day long. Being surly was even favorable to that. Even now, he was having mental flashbacks to the first time that he had brought Amina into this very shower. They had spent the better part of an hour arguing over the proper setting for the dials. He liked a scalding hot shower, while she insisted that it was bad for her hair and she wanted it on the Honeysuckle setting. It had been that very day that he had finally placed the sweet smell her skin always seemed to have. He had won, eventually whenever he convinced her that there was no reason that they should smell the same, that it was a dead giveaway. Gavin could feel his eyes snap open and he stuck his head under the rainfall faucet to rise the rest of the soap from his face and hair. He didn't really feel like he had gotten the Infirmary off of him, but it was just going to have to do. Perhaps he could find something else to occupy his time. Pulling the towel from heater he ran it over his hair once and wrapped it around his waist, leaving a path of water footprints behind him on the heated tiles. They would evaporate soon enough that he wouldn't have to worry about slipping. This was just about the only part about living at the school that was better than his own house, the bathrooms were spectacular.

After brushing his teeth and shaving his face, slapping on a little of his choice cologne he moved back to the dorm room only a flight of stairs lower. The water outside of the windows was a dark shade of green, nothing swimming around or peeking inside. It was too late in the year, normally the lake inhabitants only showed around the beginnings of the years since they liked to torment or dazzle the first years after they were sorted. He pulled the towel from his waist and finished drying his hair as he pulled the door to his dorm room open. He had never been shy about his figure, and on the off chance that anybody was already inside...his nudity wouldn't be anything new to them. If there was somebody outside peeking down the stairs at him? Well. Let them stare, might make somebody envious. He worked very hard on his physique, and he was proud to display it. Perhaps that was why he was naturally driven toward voyeurism. Yet, it seemed like he had been in the shower longer than he had thought. It had only felt like a moment. Letting the towel fall to the floor he headed back to his bed, sitting on the pristine made covers. He hadn't been expecting a reply so fast. Though, he should have been. His owl was resting on the perch next to the desk that he had just written the first letter to Lucinda on. His eyes drifted sideways to his pillow, there the envelope lay with their first official communication. He didn't want to open it, he didn't want to have to. He had no interest in anything that she had to say, and he felt like a heel leading her on to believe anything else. He was a lot of things, fake, had never been one of them. He was oddly honest for a man of his house and upbringing. Most pure blooded witches, and especially wizards, lied as easily as they blinked. Leaning over he edge of his four poster he fished around in his trunk until he found the first pair of underwear and jeans that he found and pulled them out. It took at least four tries to get the underwear over his feet since he was so distracted by the letter. What could have motivated her so that she had to respond so quickly? Either she was just that excited, or she had nothing better to do. Shaking it off he pulled his other chosen clothing on and moved toward the desk, clutching the letter in his hand.

Pulling the brass letter opener off of the desk he fished a treat for his owl from the small canister on his desk for just this purpose. He liked his letters to arrive on time, and a mistreated owl would not allow that to happen. Pulling the feminine stationary from the envelope he pulled it open, his eyes scanning over the contents. He understood them well enough, he just wasn't sure how he really felt about about what they said. All in all, it was very ordinary. Small talk. But it was enough. It didn't feel forced, like his letter did to himself, it also revealed that she had to be french. Would he be able to put up with a french accent for the rest of his life? He didn't really have much of a choice, did he. He liked France well enough, he had a family vacation home there and had many relatives that were from the area. No doubt that had to be a swaying factor whenever Pearl had chosen her...something that he now found to be slightly irritating. The other, was that she had included her full name. Something, interesting. He could look her up now if he really wanted to. Did he really want to? Would having any more advance information about her than he already had be a good thing, or a bad one? He didn't need to think any worse of this woman that he had never met before it happened anyway. He was already unfairly cruel to her...it wasn't fair. She had no say in the matter. Running a hand down his face he pulled his quill out and jotted a reply on a clean sheet of paper. More small talk. He had to think of her just like any other conquest, it had to help him get through it.

Dearest Lucinda,

I do confess, I had been curious if you would consider this 'breaking the rules', being in contact whenever we're supposed to be meeting for the first time in just a few weeks. Apparently not, or you don't mind deviating from what is expected of you. Then again, if you have been speaking with Pearl, it must have just been me who had been left in the dark. I assure you, everything that she said about me is false.

I too have entrusted a lot into her taste, but I have absolute faith in the fact you will be as stunning as she assumes me that you will be. As for Austria, the weather might be a little colder than you are used to and the language is different, but I'm sure you will have no trouble adapting. What do you like to do for fun? I will try to make this land seem as much like home as possible for you.

-Gavin Abel Dewhurst

Stuffing it into an envelope he addressed it and handed it to the owl who looked a little irritated to be flying over such a great distance in such a short period of time. Though, he didn't really know why feather brains was protesting to much. He rarely got an opportunity to fly this much. Gavin didn't have very much correspondence during the school year since he was always so busy with Quidditch. Sighing heavily, he headed back over to his trunk to select a shirt for the next part of the day. 

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tame these ghosts in my head,
(THAT RUN WILD AND WISH ME DEAD)

words: 1,385
outfit: This
tags: Lucinda
notes:none.
credit: gabs of a different color; @ caution 2.0

[Lucinda Roxane Belrose]

In the end, Lucinda had reread the letter twice before Maria had snagged it from her and began to dissect it word from word. Needless to say, she had been quite surprised when the letter had arrived, mainly because Lucinda wasn’t entirely sure Gavin was too into the idea of an arranged marriage. In the beginning, she had objected to it as well. The thought of her hand being given to someone without a single say in the matter disgusted her as a child. She had always dreamed of falling in love with the one person in the world that would be perfect for her, having a dream wedding, beautiful children, and living happily ever just like the fairy tales her nanny used to read her. Her nanny had been fired for that exact reason. Lucinda’s mother had no interest in her daughter becoming a daydreamer, longing for the day that her white knight would come riding to her rescue and tear her from the pureblood life. It had been her intention that Lucinda would be raised like a pureblood. She would be realistic when it came to how the world would treat her, she would act like a pureblood even if that meant tearing down people who were beneath her, and she would marry and have kids to keep the lineage going. Had her nanny not been fired after being caught reading fairy tales to the five year old, Lucinda would have ended up very different than she was now. But she had been, and Lucinda’s new nanny knew how to raise a pureblood.

Since that day, it had been drilled into her head that fairy tales were made up by mudbloods, stories to brain wash purebloods to marry beneath them and corrupt their bloodlines. She had been told it was all a trick so in the end, everyone would be mixed blood and there would be no purebloods left alive. Of course, that story had only lasted a few years. Lucinda grew smarter and became aware of the truth behind fairy tales and that they were just to give hope to little girls and boys who wanted something to believe in, but by then it was too late. She had believed and soaked in everything her parents had told her. It was when she was nine that she finally understood exactly why they wanted to choose her partner for her. A boy who had class across from her etiquette class had caught her eye one day. He was stunning in every way possible, and when he talked, it was like angels sung. Lucinda had found the one she wanted. Until she found who he hung around. She knew some of the other boys from word of mouth. Half-bloods, mudbloods, even a squib. He had been one of them and from that point on, Lucinda knew she couldn’t trust her own judgment. Her eyes were tainted and would never be able to see someone for exactly what they were. From that day on, Lucinda had accepted anything her mother had said about an arranged marriage and had taken her feelings out of it. Now seeing the letter from Gavin, she couldn’t help but wonder if he had the same experiences. Was he okay with it? Did he go along with everything he was told he had to do? Or was it more like he was being forced into it?

As Maria reread the letter aloud one more time, Lucinda picked up a pillow, being sure not to chip her newly painted nails in the process, and chucked it across the room. For being as proper as she was, she had great aim. She grinned as Maria glared at her playfully and made an action to send it flying back, but dropped it as she thought better of it. Despite her being in a French school, with a French name, Maria was actually American. It always enthused Lucinda how easily she was to fool around with. Most people at Beaubaxton had no sense of humor. It had been refreshing when Maria had transferred in, adding some life to the party. Lucinda only hoped Gavin would be similar. Life was so hard when you were serious all the time, despite what her mother had taught her. Lucinda smiled at Maria as she sighed and got up, giving both the letter and the pillow back. For the last hour they had done nothing but read the letter and despite how excited Lucinda was to have some sort of correspondence with her future husband, even she could only take so much. So she folded the letter up neatly and slid it into the drawer in her bedside table. Placing her pillow back where it had been, she laid back and crossed her hands across her stomach. For once, she was completely at ease, as if she had gotten final confirmation that her life was going down this path. For years she had wondered if her mother would ever find someone, and here, he had come to her in the end. Sort of. The only downfall was she was going to have to leave France behind in its entirety. At least until everything with her new husband got settled. It was going to be hard to leave her country behind, but she didn’t object. It was her destiny to have this happen. She wouldn’t allow feelings to stand in her way.

As a rustling began on the bed across from her, Lucinda looked sideways to see her roommate getting off of the bed, removing her toe separators that had been on for far too long now. Quirking an eyebrow, Lucinda propped herself up on her elbows long enough to see her friend grab her coat. ”I’m going to go grab some food. Do you want anything?” Looking at the clock, Lucinda realized it was getting close to time for the kitchens to start stocking food. Despite Maria’s thin frame, she had always been somewhat of a pig, sometimes taking a whole pizza to herself. Lucinda admired the woman’s metabolism, but was always somewhat disgusted by how much she could put down. Shaking her head, she laid back down. “I am fine. I ‘ill go down later.” There were no objections from the other party and, a moment later, the door shut and left Lucinda alone with her thoughts, though it didn’t last long. A tapping started at the window, the same as before. She sat up slowly in bed to see the owl standing outside, with a piece of parchment on its leg. She had never had a letter returned. It hadn’t been that long since she had sent it off for a response. Getting up slowly, she proceeded to the window and allowed the owl in once again. When she pulled the parchment from its leg, she confirmed it was not the one she had placed in. “’Oo are one fast owl,” she told it as she scratched it on the head and gave it one of the small snacks from her desk. Unrolling the parchment, she spread it on the desk and read it to herself, already pulling out her quill, ink, and blank parchment by the time she had finished.

Mon Cheri Gavin,

If this is considered ‘breaking the rules’ as you say, it is one time I do not mind breaking them. I know the first time I meet you in person, these letters will not make any difference to my reaction. Our mothers would never know. I do hope your mother hasn’t been telling my mother complete lies. I cannot imagine the man I am writing to right now is hideous and rude. Your writing compels nothing of the sort.

Though the country will be different, I am sure I will adapt quickly, in both weather and language respects. Do you happen to speak French? If not, maybe I could teach you for when we take trips back to France. It is such a wonderful language.

I have become rather the equestrian enthusiast in my time. It was one of the few outdoor activities my mother approved of when I was a child. I wouldn’t mind learning new thing, though I must say my fear of heights becomes inhibiting. What do you enjoy doing on your spare time? Your mother has not let me in on your activities or the things you do on your spare time. I imagine she wanted to give us something to talk about when we meet soon.

Bises!
Lucinda Roxane Belrose

She bit down on her lip, suddenly wanting to rewrite half of the letter. She seemed so… pathetic. It wasn’t the right word, but it was the only one she could think of. Her mother had restricted her from doing so much as a child so, in turn, she had developed the same sort of habits as her mother. She loved shopping and getting her nails done, and all of the things a normal girl did, but she knew that wasn’t what he wanted to know. He already knew she was French. That was probably a dead giveaway that she enjoyed such things. No woman in the country didn’t. She could have played herself up more, or even down more. She wasn’t sure exactly what kind of man he was, or what he liked to do, or even the type of woman he was attracted to. Pearl had only ensured he was attractive, a good person, and active. It was so hard to anticipate what he wanted to hear when she knew nothing about him. Had that been the point? Had Pearl wanted to ensure that they only knew the actual details about each other and not what the other wanted to hear when they first met? If so, she had done a good job. All Lucinda knew was that her mother did not want her to mess this up. She had expressed the importance for Lucinda to make sure this engagement went off without a hitch. So she did her best, tried as hard as she could to anticipate what he wanted to hear and what would be good for their relationship to flourish. Though she was sure some things in her letter could be rewritten, she couldn’t imagine just what to say so, instead of making it worse, she rolled it up, gave it back to the owl with another treat, and sent it on its way. Sighing, she shut the window and walked back to her bed where she resumed her prior position, leaving her things spread out across the desk. If they kept at their current pattern, there was no point in putting them away now.

Words | 1,787
Tag | Gavin
Outfit | Click

[Gavin Dewhurst]

do not ask the price i pay,
(I MUST LIVE WITH MY QUIET RAGE)
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It was the oddest thing really, he had been expecting to write to this woman, wait a few days and then hear back from her. He hadn't been expecting anything titillating, he didn't expect to like her much. He didn't know how he could. What he hadn't been expecting however, was the guilt that seemed to be coming with every word that he penned onto the paper. He wasn't even with Amina any longer, he had no official romantic entanglements to anybody other than the woman to whom he was writing, and yet, he felt guilty. Like he was cheating on Amina, or perhaps even himself. He knew, his inner dialogue made him feel like a love sick puppy. He supposed that was the best comparison that he could possibly make to the way that he felt. He couldn't even share it with anybody, and he had known from the start that he wouldn't have been able to. The affair never should have happened in the first place, but there had been no controlling himself, no controlling his actions. He certainly wouldn't have chosen to fall for Amina. By all accounts, she was unacceptable to him on all levels. The only thing that she had even had going for her was the fact that technically, she was a pure blooded witch. Though, it was almost negated by the fact that she and her entire family had been disgraced in the eyes of every other reputable pure blooded family since they were muggle sympathizers. Yet, there had just been something about him. It couldn't have just been that she had initially turned him down, while it was highly rare, it had happened to him before. He had been talked back to by women who thought that they had a chance at playing hard to get, it had just been, something about her. About everything about her, her heart, her mind, the way that she could control herself so coyly but brazen at the same time. He hadn't even know women like her could exist. Honest women. There was no doubt in his mind that this woman he was writing to, Lucinda, was not an honest woman. She couldn't be if Pearl had approved of her.

His mind continued to stray from the task at hand as his fingers ruffled through shirt after shirt, not even really seeing what he was looking at, and finally settled on something that seemed the cleanest toward the bottom of the pile of folded shirts. He pulled it over his head and down his torso without much effort, it was all muscle memory, he didn't even have to focus. Which, given that it seemed impossible, was a good thing. Lifting a belt off of the hook fastened to the lid of the trunk, he started to thread it through the loops on his jeans before starting to rustle through his other items to finish his outfit for the day. Most people thought that Gavin tended to be vain, given that he changed cloths and bathed so often over the course of a day, but he didn't care. He liked being clean, there was nothing wrong with that. Besides, it wasn't vanity whenever it was correct. Buckling the metal bits together in front of his torso, he padded around the dorm room, unsure of exactly what he was waiting for. He couldn't be waiting for her letter, unless it was just because he wanted another reason to keep from going to class. Assuming that must have been the reason, he resolved to finish sorting through the contents of his trunk until he found socks and a decent watch from his collection. Another source of pride for him, while most people tended to think of watches as an obsolete muggle contraption, he was oddly fond of them. Perhaps the only muggle item that he would allow himself to physically come into contact with. He had seem people in the hallways of school, those who didn't have the same ideals as he did, with their cellular phones and running around with their musical devices. It was sickening, plain and simple. Finally selecting a watch and placing a jacket on the edge of his bed he closed his trunk back up, and eased himself back down on the bed next to the garment. At the rate his brain was going, there was no real point in attempting to go to any of his classes any time soon. Flopping back against the bed, he could feel the soreness in his muscles starting to become more prominent, his pepper up potion must have been wearing off slowly. Of course – that would bring about another letter, that he pulled open and read while holding the parchment over his head.

Dragging his body out of the bed and back onto his chair once more, he opened another clean sheet of stationary, emblazoned with the Dewhurst family crest he wrote out a short reply, more cordial words.

Dearest Lucinda,

Ah, but you seem to have been deceived! I am a horrible troll and my breath could rival that of a dragons. I apologize if my mother has given you any false information, it seems that you are under the impression that I am a catch. I am versed however, in french and a fair few other languages besides German. My family has had ample opportunity to better ourselves through travel, and it is a personal hobby of mine. In fact, we own a family property in France, as well as a few others throughout Europe. Though, I suppose, soon it will be your property as well. So don't worry too badly about getting home sick for long.

Between my duties to my house at school, and Quidditch practice (I am Captain), it doesn't leave me much spare time. Much to my dismay, but I've always been fond of running around the grounds. Sitting still for too long makes me restless as of late. Perhaps it's nerves, for graduation is coming. Do you own horses?

-Gavin Abel Dewhurst

Attaching the letter to his owl, who hooted in appreciation for the affection, and irritation at the frequency of his flights, and was off on his way. Another short letter, but he had no idea what else to say to her. The fact that she was being polite, was only making him feel worse. He hoped that his sarcasm would catch on through the writing, and that she might find it amusing. Granted, Kariana had told him more than once that his morning breath could be quite atrocious, he had always been meticulous with his oral hygiene as he had with everything else. Bad breath was always banished instantly. He did have a reputation to uphold. At least the things that he was choosing to include in the letters, were all things that his mother would approve of if she were to intercept them. Another thing that he wouldn't put past her, given recent events. Since the post was coming back and forth so quickly, he doubted that It was too much of an issue. This time. He couldn't very well include what he was recently doing with his spare time, since it was usually consumed by pining away for the woman that he actually cared about. Thinking about how little he had actually been doing in his spare time sparked another twang of guilt. What had he done with his time before Amina? Certainly he had been more social, one didn't become popular on looks alone, though they did always tend to help things along. His balled fish rubbed absently against his tired eyes. He had more potion in his desk, though he supposed that a nap couldn't hurt. He had been up most of the night in the infirmary after all. Had she been in a relationship? It was a long shot, but perhaps Lucinda had been in the same issue that he was in now, at some point in her life. He knew that they were the same age, so it was certainly possible, but it wasn't a topic that he could just bring up out of the blue. Slinking back into bed once more, he rolled onto his stomach and let his face rest down into his pillow, perhaps he should attempt to get some rest, his owl would wake him if there was another letter.  

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tame these ghosts in my head,
(THAT RUN WILD AND WISH ME DEAD)

words: 1,385
outfit: This
tags: Lucinda
notes:none.
credit: gabs of a different color; @ caution 2.0

[Lucinda Roxane Belrose]

Only after a few moments, Lucinda began to feel restless. This had never happened to her before. Normally she was calm, cool, collected. She never got anxious or tired, at least not that anyone knew. But she couldn’t help but fidget every so often while lying on the bed. Before the letters had begun to arrive, she had been busy with manicures and pedicures, distracted by the mob of girls who had been in her room. She supposed the energy she had built up while spending time with the others was the reason she was now having a problem just sitting around. Or it was Gavin’s letters. No doubt her heart had sped up when she realized who it had been writing her, when she realized this was anything but a dream. Her marriage was coming and there was no avoiding it and she couldn’t be happier. But the prospect of it coming made her antsy. She wanted to move, to get it over with. To start her new life and leave this one behind. No doubt, the longer she stuck around in France, the harder it seemed it would be to leave behind her family. Her friends weren’t that big of a problem, mostly because she had never grown too close with any of them. Maria had been the closest but her friend had admitted early on that when it happened, she would be more than willing to travel to Austria to keep in touch. As long as she didn’t fall in love as well, of course. Once Maria had a family, Luci was sure she wouldn’t hear hide nor hair of her either. But that didn’t really upset her much. Friends were easy to come by, especially when you lived in France with the last name of Belrose. She wondered if that was how the Dewhurst name was treated in Austria?

Just thinking of all of the things that were going to happen in her future life caused her restlessness to increase to the point where she had to get up. It had only been five minutes since the owl had been sent off and given how long it had taken for the prior one’s to return, she figured she still had a good twenty to thirty minutes until it returned. It was enough time for her to go grab a bite to eat. Deciding it was better than sitting here and waiting, she slipped on her shoes, taking care not to ruin her pedicure, and grabbed her shawl. Her dorm was one of the more secluded due to how long she had been in the school and even though she enjoyed the privacy, she hated the length of the walk to the dining hall, but she dealt with it. It wasn’t that she was lazy, she just enjoyed convenience. This was the opposite. So she walked, and as she did so she slipped on her shawl to cover her shoulders against the colder air outside of their room. Passing by people on her way, Lucinda made the appropriate greeting gestures and comments, but never stopping long enough to acknowledge them completely. When she reached the dining hall, she took her normal seat between Maria and Henri, looking as if she had belonged there all along. She jumped into the conversation, grabbed some small bits of food, and began to eat away at her restlessness, all the while keeping time to make sure she arrived in time to respond to the owl she knew was coming. ”You left early the other day. I thought we were having a good time.” Henri was leaning over, whispering almost directly into her ear. She glanced over at him and with a smile, rolled her eyes. “Henri, you know I do not stay overnight. It’s not lady like. Plus, I figured we had enough time during the day,” she teased, taking another bite of food as she turned her attention back to the others at the table. She took comfort in the fact that half of the school could not speak a lick of English, and the one’s that could were not very good at it. It made sure that some conversations kept private. This included those between her, Henri, and Maria. They were the only two that knew ahead of time that Luci would be leaving to be married soon. That never stopped her and Henri from having a good time, though. She wondered if Gavin had his own friend that he used for personal gain. Was she upset that he was going to be married off? Would she try and stand in the way, or was she just going to take it in stride like Henri?

When she finished her plate, she excused herself from the table and hurried back to the room without a glance back. No one questioned her, and no one followed. All in all, it had only been fifteen minutes since she had left so she was not surprised when she returned with no owl waiting, but it wasn’t long before it showed up, only long enough for her to remove her shoes and shawl again. She had been about to sit back on the bed when the tapping came on the window. Smiling, she walked quickly to the window and opened it to let the bird back in. It happily flew to the same place again, and allowed her to take the letter off and begin reading it. She giggled at some of his comments but was immediately impressed that he was fluent in multiple languages. It would make both of their lives rather easy if Lucinda found herself slipping and speaking in French. She seemed to do that far too often in the presence of English speakers. Most of the time they looked at her like she was nuts. Maybe he wouldn’t be so quick to judge. The laughing stopped as she continued to read and then sat down to start on the reply. Surprisingly, he was rather easy to talk to. That made the prospect of marrying him that much more feasible.

Mon Cheri Gavin,

I believe I will make the decision on if you are a catch or not. I seem to be unable to trust your judgment as of yet. However, I seem to have gained some confidence in your words now that I know you can speak more than one language. You are making this far too easy on me already! Even ensuring we will be visiting France! Now I feel as if I am promising too little in return.

Congratulations on being Captain of your Quidditch team! Has it always been a hobby of yours, or is it more than that? I can’t imagine becoming Captain was easy. I would love to attend your matches (I believe that is what they are called in your sport?) whenever I arrive there. I am sure once schooling ends for you and you have more free time, we will be able to find more things for you to keep yourself busy. I do, in fact, own horses, some of which I hope to bring to Austria in time. Perhaps I can teach you to ride if you are not already capable?

Bises!
Lucinda Roxane Belrose

This letter appeased her more than the prior one. It felt like they were making a connection, even if it was just through writing. She had high hopes for their first meeting. Getting up and folding the letter, she attached it to the owl and sent it on its way as it chewed yet another treat.

Words | 1,272
Tag | Gavin
Outfit | Click

[Gavin Dewhurst]

do not ask the price i pay,
(I MUST LIVE WITH MY QUIET RAGE)
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Everything seemed to be irritating him more and more as of late. He could hear the ripples of water against the windows of his dorm room, no doubt it was only in his imagination but he couldn't stop hearing it. He could feel his heart beating against the soft bedding that he had lain down upon. Disgruntled, Gavin ripped the pillow out from under his head, and brought it to rest instead on top of his head, holding down the edges on either side of his face with his fists. It made his breathing a little more difficult, but he felt better in the total darkness. Another new thing for him it seemed. He could feel the need to move rising up inside of him, he could feel the urge to be productive, to go back out and run, but the nurse had warned him of that sort of feeling. She didn't realize he was depending purely on the pepper up potions as of late, and copious amounts of caffeine. She had told him that his body would start to break down, his muscles would tear if he didn't take a step back. He would never in a million years even consider taking anything that would enhance his performance, on or off the field. Yet, she had asked him anyway, since she had said that he had been talking like a crazed man, pushing himself to hard. If only she could have understood, he wasn't pushing himself too hard, he wasn't pushing hard enough. If he had been, then he wouldn't have been thinking about Amina every waking second. That was the whole point, was to forget about her as best as he possibly could. Since that hadn't been accomplished yet, he was just going to have to keep trying until it did. Which would mean more running, more working, until he was too physically exhausted to think of anything else.

There was no telling exactly when it was that Gavin actually fell asleep. He hadn't done it on purpose, one second he had been thinking to himself about the things that he would rather be doing than resting like a weakling in his dorm, and the next thing he knew, it was at least an hour later and he had no idea how to account for the time that had lapsed. He hadn't been that deep in concentration, he must have been asleep. He should have been expecting the impatient hooting coming from the owl resting at the top of his four poster bed, but he hadn't been. With an indignant, sleepy snort he jolted in the bed, the pillow falling from his face and crashing down to the floor. Groaning, he rolled his body over, taking note of just how heavy he felt at the moment. Far heavier than he should have felt, even though he felt like the inside of him was hollow, his chest felt empty, like something that he normally needed was missing, his stomach was barren, threatening to collapse in on itself but he didn't want to leave the dorm yet, it felt oddly good, this reclusive thing that he was pulling today. Running a hand over his face, he slowly forced his eyelids open and held out an impatient hand to his owl, who promptly bit him. “FUCK” he spouted, in a vernacular that wasn't his normal. He wasn't much of a man who swore, he preferred more eloquent ways of phrasing things, not that he hadn't been exposed to enough language to make his profanity more than effective if provoked. Kariana was practically a sailor in he own right. Glaring at the owl he stuck his finger in his mouth, waiting for the bleeding to stop as he tore open the letter, his eyes running down the page over the neat script. He wished that her letter felt as forced as his did. It might have made this whole thing easier. At the very least, he would be able to report back to his mother had he had done as she asked.

Dearest Lucinda,

Surely you jest! How will this work if I do not have your blind faith with everything that I do? Honestly Lucinda, why wouldn't you have blind faith in the judgment of a total stranger? Though, all jokes aside, I might judge you if you didn't have your own apprehensions about the fact that we've yet to meet.

It would be my honor to indulge you in travels, it's no pressure to me. Quidditch is far from a hobby for me, I am currently in talks to be drafted to a team on the professional level, hopefully the sport doesn't bore you too badly, as I'm sure there will be more than enough to see of the sport in the future. I have yet to decide on a team, but the prospects are good. As for riding, that would be good. It's one skill that I never took much interest in learning – it seemed rather painful for my gender. Yet, I'm sure I would fare well in your capable hands. (See? Already the blind faith in a stranger)We will have to arrange for a stable to be added to our house then, how many do you have?


-Gavin Abel Dewhurst

This letter was written a little more hastily, as he hadn't bothered moving to the desk before scribbling out a reply and folding the contents into a letter and sealing it. His words felt like bile on paper. The sarcasm was easy enough to force, and it seemed that it was being received in the manor that he was intending. He knew that he tended to speak more via correspondence than he did in person, but his mother had ingrained the importance of being able to pen an eloquent letter from a very young age. Gavin had been told more than once over his sixteen years of life that he spoke like an old man, but it was just his way. The way of his family, he found there was less room to be misunderstood whenever one spoke clearly in large words. It was even harder to hide the truth in a letter, while the other person couldn't see what he was writing, it was just something about omitting facts from the page whenever he was alone in writing them that felt strange to him. The fact that Quidditch wasn't a hobby would become very apparent to her, no doubt before she knew anything else about him, she would know of his love for the sport. Yet, the fact that he was choosing to continue playing the sport was the only reason he was agreeing to be wed to her? Somehow, he didn't think that news would go over too well. He supposed that at some point, years and years down the line, she was bound to find out the truth, but who could really predict the future? At least, accurately. With another glare, he handed the owl the letter and shoved him on his way before collapsing backward on the bed once more.

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tame these ghosts in my head,
(THAT RUN WILD AND WISH ME DEAD)

words: 1,182
outfit: This
tags: Lucinda
notes:none.
credit: gabs of a different color; @ caution 2.0

[Lucinda Roxane Belrose]

She’d known that this was the direction her life was heading in for years now, been prepared and accepted fully the responsibility of it all long before her ‘intended’ had ever written her the first of their correspondence. She hadn’t allowed herself to become excited over who it was that she was to be promised to in order to not be disappointed. Not that she believed her parents would arrange a bad match. But because she didn’t want to face the disappointment that could arrive with the decision were she to be expecting something in particular… Gavin Dewhurst was not someone that she would ever classify as disappointing though. He was extremely attractive, came from both good money and family, and seemed to be interesting on top of it- if these letters were anything to go by. It was this line of thought that kept her slightly worried when there seemed to be a slightly longer wait between letters. Not that she expected him to drop everything for her, they hadn’t formed that sort of bond yet, that was for when the engagement was completely finalized. She was worrying uselessly, and she knew it. Just as she knew that a good bit of it was from the excitement that had begun to bubble within her at the prospect of Gavin. Of the increasing likelihood of him being not just her intended, but her fiancé through and through. Finalized. Finite. He would be hers, completely. Given how well they were getting along the thought was titillating even. She knew how lucky she would be should it actually come to pass, was more than aware of the other options out there. Not that they were all so disgusting in their own rights. Gavin just happened to be the most appealing out of the lot. She was far from stupid, she could recognize the multitude of reasons that made him her parent’s top pick, and she could recognize the fact that she needed this very correspondence to build their relationship. To begin to cement herself into his life, try and make her presence a staple in his mind rather than a muddied option.  

Her lips opened only slightly, letting a breath of air pass through at the thought as she looked from her perch in front of her desk over to the window. She didn’t have very long before Maria showed back up, and while she was more than prepared to both read and write in her friend’s presence… things had started to feel just a bit more personal, and she couldn’t help but feel that it should be conducted on her own. This was going to be hers. It was only when she saw the familiar shade of feathers in the distance that she let her lips turn more fully up, fingers drumming excitedly against her desk as the owl swooped in through the still open window, alighting before her on the desk. The creature hopped about for a moment, settling its feathers more comfortably as Lucinda reached out with careful fingers to detach the folded parchment from the owl’s beak and placed it upon the desk. She could feel the thing’s gaze still on her, beak opening and closing a few times with a few short clicks as if expecting something- a reaction she quelled with a sharp glance and dismissive wave. She’d be giving the thing treats again, but she was far more interested in reading the parcel it had brought first. Barely paying attention to the shuffling sound of talons atop the desk as the owl shifted once more she unfurled it, eyes moving rapidly down the paper… only to go back to the top to repeat the process once more, her smile growing into a grin as she ran her index finger once over the words. They weren’t just connecting any more, he was definitely flirting. He had to be. Men didn’t just talk to girls like that to be polite, least not in her experience. He joked about blind faith, and while she recognized it as the joke it was it made her wonder just what type of man he was in a relationship. She didn’t have a whole excess of experience in that field, but she had been schooled enough to understand that there were some men- quite a bit more than liked to admit it- that liked to have… the upper hand in the relationship, controlling- she’d heard it called a few times. It was, she supposed, something that only time would tell.

Mon Cheri Gavin,

Speaking of jests… I’m sure you are more than capable, do not get me wrong. Yet shouldn’t decisions made, be made after careful, dual deliberation? Apprehension is to be expected I would expect, but there- that must be the blind faith you spoke of kicking in. I fully expect that we shall get along brilliantly.

Oh? So you’d indeed be a catch then, a professional Quidditch player! It seems I need to take an interest in the sport beyond the pretty faces that are riding the brooms then, I’m afraid you might have to help in furthering my education on the subject. Only painful for your gender if done wrong! We can make it a trade then, since apparently we are entrusting one another with this furthering of education. I’ll help you learn to ride, without endangering your gender in any which way- and you can further expand my knowledge of the sport you will be taking part in so often. I have four horses to myself though, I haven’t quite decided whether I will be bringing all or only a few with me though, one of the mares is a good deal older- I don’t even ride her any longer.


Bises!
Lucinda Roxane Belrose

She reread the words she’d penned down upon the paper several times over, wondering if she’d been a bit too forward, a little too flirty with her correspondence this time. It didn’t stop her from folding it over though, reaching across the desk and placing the treat she captured between her fingers to the owls beak before she began sealing the letter. Excited. She was excited by the prospect of furthering their acquaintance even more now, he seemed amiable to the idea of the two of them, openly so- and she found that it soothed her slightly. She handed the letter off with a lighter heart this time, standing as she followed the owl’s retreat from her room. Promise. He’d given her hope, or at least the promise of it, with that letter. And it made her… she didn’t know. Feel girly? Light? She giggled lightly as she twirled about, easing limbs out of articles of clothing and throwing them uncharacteristically into a heap at the end of her bed. The giggles soon turned to humming, feet tapping about in an uneven pattern upon the floor as she slipped the nightgown over her head and twitched it into place along her torso, robe flowing over her arms before she used the flowing material to further enhance the entire process of spinning about she seemed to have found herself in. It wasn’t until the door was opened from the outside, Maria’s form sliding in before shutting it, that she stopped, falling into the soft bedding atop her mattress and laughing at the stunned expression on the other girls face. “Good news?” Lucinda crossed her arms slowly over her stomach, smiling over at her friend as red, either from exertion or embarrassment- probably both, stole over her cheeks. “He wrote me.” She shrugged as if that explained it all, and by the grin that stole over Maria’s face she’d take it as if it had.

Words | 1,290
Tag | Gavin
Outfit | Click

[Gavin Dewhurst]

do not ask the price i pay,
(I MUST LIVE WITH MY QUIET RAGE)
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Sleep came easily for him, which was strange and unexpected, but welcome. He didn't mind the killing time. He awoke to the knowledge that he hadn't dreamt at all, unmoved on top of his covers. The door room was still quiet, so he couldn't have been asleep for all that long really, but he felt better...even though his hand was already reaching for the bottle of potion that was getting dangerously low. He was going to have to procure some more to make it through the rest of the week. Until then, he would just have to dip into Reg's stash of goodies hidden in a box below his bed to kill the time, perhaps from brain cells or nerve endings, but he had more than enough of those to go around. Nothing to worry about. The troubling thing, was that his eyes were scanning for the owl to be waiting for him on the desk, and it wasn't there. Not that he thought it would be the fault of the owl...but because she had been writing so quickly. Had something happened to cause her to become busy? Was she in class? Did he really care? Was his interest simply in the fact that he wanted to have something to do, to keep himself busy and not thinking of Amina, or was it because he actually wanted to hear from her. Perhaps his mother was right, though the thought sickened him, and if he faked it long enough that the feelings for Lucinda would become genuine. Not that it was possible over such a short amount of time. There had only been a handful of correspondence...he was just bored. He reminded himself, nothing more. He didn't want to go to class and this gave him a good enough of a reason.

However, since there was nothing...that meant that he really should do something with his day. He could go back out, take a few laps around the pitch...but he had just showered. Smoothing out the lines his body had caused on his bedspread he closed the curtains behind him, lifting his bag from the floor where it had been resting. He never had been too much of a bookworm, he almost never studied and even more rarely did the classwork on time. Anybody who said that Quidditch players didn't get special treatment was a liar. Oh, he always had to do the work, but his deadlines were flexible. With that being said, the smell of books might quell the headache setting up camp within his skull.

He had made it half way to the library, jostling the students in his way down another path, that would keep them away from him whenever the owl hooted above his head, coming to land on the leather strap of his bag, nipping affectionately at his ear. The thing had to be more than exhausted by now. “Should I give you a break?” he asked, to the hooting of the owl, but he didn't move. “I'm sure one of the scho-” and the bite to his ear was anything but affectionate. Gavin didn't write many letters, and unlike some people he didn't think of his bird so much of a pet as a errand boy. He liked to prove himself, and that suited Gavin just fine. Chuckling, like his voice was coated in rust he made his way into the library, unwrapping the letter as he headed through the stacks that he had memorized a long time ago until he found the little alcove that was filled with the sorts of books teachers didn't want within the school. Texts on the exam patterns of which professor, cheat sheets and tailored guides. This spot was passed down from Slytherin to Slytherin, upper class of course. Not that he used the books, but he did like the spot. His eyes glossed over the contents, pulling out his parchment from his bag and a book to pretend to read he placed them on the table, neatly scrawling out his reply.

Dearest Lucinda,

Oh, I'm more than capable. In all respects. I would take care of you, for any deliberation. However, if you feel you need to weigh in more fully, that can be arranged. I suppose.

I'm being humble whenever I say that I'm one of the most eligible bachelors in all of Austria. You should consider yourself lucky. You will be a much envied woman. One that I would be happy to teach the intricacies of the sport if you honestly wish to learn. Does this older mare mean much to you? Have you had her terribly long? I'm sure we can arrange for stables for whichever you choose. I do want you to like it here, and in our home, whenever the time comes. Should you not meet me and be instantly repulsed by all of my horrible disfigurations?


-Gavin Abel Dewhurst

He found her double reference to his gender amusing. He was even grinning...something was obviously wrong with him. He must have selected the wrong bottle from Regulus' stash. It had to be just the fact that he was able to hide behind his pen, to keep from having to commit to anything more than a few lines of ink that had him so interested. Folding the letter into an envelope he stuffed it into the beak of his bird. “I'll get you something good for when you come back,” he was fairly certain something could be smuggled up from the kitchens. Leaning back into his chair as the Eagle Owl soared out of the library, much to the displeasure of everybody that he swooped over. He knew it wouldn't be like this whenever she got here. It just couldn't be. He couldn't even look at those he considered to be his closest grouping of friends and hold a conversation with them. Not without them bringing up things that he had no interest in talking about. He didn't like being questioned. At least, whenever she got here, she wouldn't know any better. This would be the only version of him that she would have ever known.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
tame these ghosts in my head,
(THAT RUN WILD AND WISH ME DEAD)

words: 1,017
outfit: This
tags: Lucinda
notes:none.
credit: gabs of a different color; @ caution 2.0