distraction, distraction....give me some attraction

[Odette Cosway]

w e. c a n. d o. i t. e v e n. b e t t e r. w i t h
---------b r o k e n h e e l s

Thank Merlin that there was a Hogsmeade trip this weekend. How she had managed to forget every single one of her sweaters, was beyond her. Well....not EVERY one perhaps. She had managed to remember her Slytherin cardigan....and of course she could always purchase more of them here. This was the only place that they were sold after all. Still, she didn't want to wear the same silver and green every single day of the year...and once winter really hit....she would be in some serious trouble. She was a fairly small woman, despite all of her arguments with herself that she wasn't small at all. Even this fall breeze was starting to bother her. The castle walls held no heat whatsoever. Even just walking down the halls like she was, her arms were hating her. These winters could be cruel..and she wasn't quite desperate enough to go asking somebody for their jacket to wear. She did have her pride. Besides, she could afford a few new sweaters, could afford a jacket or two even. Could afford much more, honestly, but that was all that she needed for now. Somehow the classes were still heated, perhaps that was why for once, in however long – she couldn't even remember she wasn't spending her free time in the common room or library. Those two places were always cold. She liked a certain amount of cold. The amount that this time of year normally brought about. But, this year seemed to be unnaturally cold so far. Of course. The years that she had decided was going to be her shining year....the weather was attempting to stop her. She was prefect this year, and her grades were finally making an improvement, she even thought that she was getting her 'friends' in line. Publicly she was making all of the right moves, she had even been seen around the right boy. Of course, it was a bold move...pairing herself with a Ravenclaw. But, the boys that she had been seen with in the past were not as...respected. Though they were equally well liked. Clarke was a nice enough guy really. Not that she wanted a 'nice' guy. She wasn't dating him, didn't even want to be dating him. She was just...allowing herself to be seen in his company. Often. Walking to classes, muttering about the upcoming winter formal. Seating opposite one another for meals even with the house difference in tables. Being seen around the same guy was doing wonders for her. He was Quidditch Captain, a seventh year, not as intelligent as she would have liked...but it was working none the less. Even if conversation with him made her mind feel numb. She couldn't give a rats tiny hairy ass about Quidditch, and he didn't care that she didn't. It was almost all he talked about.

He was a good deal of why she had been forced out of the heated room and out into the corridors. He had been cornering the market...so to speak. Whispering tales of his wins that turned to a study session only whenever teachers walked by. Even the Professors seemed to forgive the contact he had with her waist, keeping her close. It wasn't like she didn't feel like she had a giant scarlet 'A' embroidered into her forehead every time they looked at her. At least a certain handful of them. She knew there were rules against PDA, but they looked the other way in everything that Clarke did otherwise, why not with that too. A better woman wouldn't have needed help to make herself feel more accepted, but really, she couldn't care less that she was using him. 'Courting her' she supposed was what most of the people had been calling it. Respectable. All of that bullshit. At least she was free to speak as badly about him as she wanted within the confines of her dorm room. As it was, she'd whispered some shallow excuse in his ear and excused herself. She didn't think that she had gotten anything done. Of course, there were tutors in the library...but that presented the exact same issue. The cold. At least she didn't need a clock to tell her the time, a stray glance out of any of the windows that she was walking past told her that. The sun was settling, leaving a pink/orange spray across the horizon. Though, by the time that she had stopped walking the sun was gone from the sky. Pointless. Well, if nothing else she could claim that this was just her patrol for the night and skip her prefect duties.

She'd been alone for most of her walk, people veering out of the way as she passed them, her chin held high. As it ought to of been. Pairs of people mostly, doing as they pleased, whatever they needed to do in order to cope with the course load that the first week of school always managed to bring. So the grouping of four or five people she passed stuck out in her mind for some reason or another. Though, it wasn't until she had passed them and sectioned off his laugh in her mind that she knew why. It penetrated her in a way that it shouldn't. It was hardly the first time that she had seen him this year, Definitely wasn't the first time she had heard him laugh. Far from it. At least she hadn't seen his face, hadn't picked him out. She didn't need to be thinking about how much the years had changed him. Not since she had been avoiding them for so long, they were just like a plague, popping up at the worst possible time. They all had individual lives now. They didn't involve none another in any way either. It should stay that way....though the lure of possible, real conversation...even if it was sarcastic was appealing to part of her. She heard him breaking away from the group, Daniel. She shouldn't know that. Shouldn't hear the slight vocal register that marked him from his twin brother. Her feet didn't slow, clicking her way down the corridor with confidence, even as she passed under the section dividing the 'west wing' from the Astronomy Tower that she had decided was her destination. Wooden door propped open, until it had been dislodged by the addition of her body weight resting against it, the stopper swinging loose and skittering across the floor.

“How long have been an artist?” She hadn't been hiding, not really. She didn't want him to think that she had been hiding, or waiting for him. Because she wasn't. She hadn't been. She wouldn't have. Right timing was all. She was done for the night, bored. He was just a distraction. Well. Sort of. Something to kick until she wasn't bored anymore. Maybe he had been following her, for all she knew. He was the one behind her after all, face stuffed in the pages of a book. As if that was a good way to walk. True, there weren't many people in the corridor, and true, they weren't headed this direction...she didn't even know why she was headed this direction. Astronomy towers, she supposed. She didn't need to validate herself. She had just managed to duck around the door frame before he had seen her. Unless he was stalking her, then he would know exactly where she was, and she wouldn't put it past him. Even if slightly flattering...it was creepy, his constant drawing of her. Her hand closed the door separating the two halves of the corridors. She didn't think that she had ever been alone with him before, should she have? Not him. Never been around him without an audience to spur her forward, or his brother to team against her. Too many firsts for her to of been as comfortable as she was. Seemed to be.The lamp from the torches was dim enough in this space to signal the changing hour, an hour past dinner at least. Study hall had just let out...her eyes flicked up to his, heels too tall for her frame resounding softly in the small space. Not many people could tell them apart, she had been told. She never would admit that she could. This one was just...more savory than the other. Scott....Scott was a snack. Daniel was a meal. Already her brain retracted the statement. Neither was a snack....she just forgot until they were just that close to her. “You're not very good...” Uhg, why did she even know their names? Her eyes glanced down to the thing he was reading, load of garbled pictures it seemed. Reading about drawing? Inane. Anything was a welcome distraction from knowing that he was good. She just didn't want to admit to such. She didn't want to admit that the colored drawing was on the inside of her bag. Her shadowed lids lifted up to his much taller frame, landing on his face...what the hell was hanging out of his mouth? At least the other one had a proper reaction to him, at least he was scared of her, or at least had the decency to pretend to be scared of her. “Cat got your tongue? I asked you a question.”

tagged. Daniel - Danny - Dan
count. 1542
clothes. here
comments. nope. i'm good for now.
credit. pan @ caution2.0

[Daniel Wilde]

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SHAME ON YOU FOR MAKING ME WAIT

T I M E . A N D . T I M E . A G A I N . Y O U ' R E . T O O . LATE

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Daniel didn't mind winter half so much as his brother Scotty did, but then Scotty's main issue with it was coercing the team out for practices in the cold weather that came with it- something that Daniel didn't have to deal with at all. Well. That was a lie- it was more that he didn't have to deal with it nearly as often or in the same context that Scott did. For the most part he just had to be out there. And he honestly had no issue with that at all. There were of course, those days that he was masquerading as his twin that he had to take over the hassle of getting all seven odd players out of the changing rooms, onto the pitch, and motivated enough to actually work during practice. Pain in the ass, even if he did enjoy it. It was different and exciting- and when the team came together and executed a play correctly it was rewarding in a way that very few things were. Although if he were being completely honest he preferred his prefect duties to the captain's duties any day. Not only did they give him a reasonable excuse to be out of his dorm after hours- something both he and Scotty had needed to abuse on more than one occasion over the years- but they also made it a good deal easier to deal with certain other people in this castle that he'd prefer not to have to associate with at all. Made them all the less likely to do something stupid and risk landing in detention- even if he didn't use his 'power' like that, no matter the urging from his more enigmatic other half. He could easily have his title removed if he were found to be misusing it- something that he didn't think that either of them could afford. It would certainly cut down on Scotty's more understandable late night activities, not that he'd shown any particular inclination this year. Actually.. he didn't think Scotty had been out much at all since mid last semester That was something he'd need to ask him about There was no way he was ignoring the female population like that without some reason or another. How he'd managed to not notice until now was beyond him, maybe he could attribute it to how much more complex their course load had become. Whichever of them had suggested Ancient Runes needed to be hit in the head repeatedly with the multiple text books assigned the class. Actually- maybe Scott needed to be regardless of who's suggestion it had been, it couldn't hurt to see if it helped him absorb the material any more. Where Daniel was having problems in it Scott was just barely scraping by- if that. The teacher had separated the two for the last test, meaning that the hadn't had Danny to look off of... meaning that their grades had probably been drastically different. Damnit. It was hard to concentrate with Brian talking so loud- his jokes more obnoxious than actually amusing. He really was more of Scott's friend anyways- but he was on the team, and besides the fact that he was kind of boring he wasn't a bad guy He just had a really loud voice. And a complete inability to modulate his tone any. No matter how loud one made that chocolate frog joke it wasn't getting any better- even if Daniel could feel his lips twitch in response to all the smiles around him, reactionary response bringing an even larger smile to the Hufflepuff beater's face. Damnit Now he'd think the joke had actually been funny...

An elbow jostled against his, darker hair brushing the skin of his forearm as the body that had perpetrated the motion leaned forward, his head turning down automatically as a scrunched nose turned up to him, blue eyes opened so wide as to appear comical as she shook her head from side to side. He wasn't supposed to encourage him, she'd told him time and time again that they couldn't rectify that kind of sense of humor by placating it- verbatim, those words repeatedly making their way from her mouth. She was on a mission, she'd said. His arm bumped back to hers, shoulder rounding so as not to jostle her too much. She barely cleared four foot six, although sending her toppling over wouldn't do anything but inspire her into a wrath that made her appear so much taller than she physically was capable of. Not that even the slightest jostle didn't have her making a low 'oomph' sound in the back of her throat- what sounded like the word 'jerk' clearing the air. Not assface or dick. Jerk. Because the little elf couldn't curse- was incapable of even the least offensive of those words. He couldn't stop the laugh that fled his lips at that, or the following one from her little bejeweled fingers smacking into his arm repeatedly. Six times? Excessive. “Your little girlfriend just walked ahead.”All the humor fled his face, the skin paling as his head jerked up, eyes scanning the faces of the few pairs of people ahead of them. She couldn't have been here though. Wouldn't have been. She had graduated. It didn't stop his heart from hammering though, or his stomach from seizing with the disgust that even the mention of her brought. Fingers wrapped around his wrist, tugging until his face was turning back down- eyes just barely on Annie's face as he fought the urge to keep looking. ”Not that one Danny. I wasn't talking about her.” the name wasn't even mentioned, although the reassurance seemed to center him, bring him back enough to see the apologetic look on his friend's face. Bridgette had graduated. Graduated and gone. Again the fingers tightened, pulled more on the wrist in their grip until he was standing closer to her- close enough for her to relinquish her hold and wrap her arms around his stomach. ”Sorry.” His breath gusted out over the top of her head, arms wrapping back around her shoulders in response as he shook his head. That had been stupid- a real Scott move- to just let himself go like that, allow himself to be so overtaken with so little evidence. “No, not your fault, it's fine.” He hadn't even realized they'd fallen behind the rest of their group, hadn't realized that they were pretty much all that was left in this section of the castle, the off turn for where he'd have to go to meet up with Scotty just up ahead. He could feel the laughter in his arms as she pushed back, the both of them letting go of one another with an easy familiarity. ”I need to go meet up with Mikey,” her voice hitched slightly, just like it always did on his older brother's name – her cheeks heating. ”Tutoring.” Yeah. Right. More like she was doing his homework and he was checking out the girl across the library. Dick.

His shoulders shrugged back, smile lighting his lips anyways She'd been taken with his assface of a brother since first year from what he understood, even if she tried to pretend otherwise. Not that just calling Mikey an assface was actually angry- any more than him calling Scotty a purple dicked wanker was. He loved the both of them. Most of the time. Kind of... enough for the corner of his lips to pull up as the little seventh year grabbed him for another hug to hide her blush. “Yeah, yeah- go try and put some sort of knowledge in that huge head of his,” amusement coloring both his tone and face as she stepped back with a laugh- obscure statement muttered under her breath as she turned on her feet and continued down the corridor, her usual abrupt good bye leaving him standing with a fond smile for a whole half of a minute before his fingers were dipping between the binder under his arms, pulling the thin paperback comic from there and flipping it open to the spot he'd last left off at- feet carrying him the familiar route up to the Astronomy Towers.

Admittedly he should have been walking faster, Scotty had promised him that if he wasn't up to the astronomy tower in time he would miss out on the prank they'd both been planning for the past month- and it was a good one, Daniel should know... he'd been the one to draw it all up. Only sissy had sent him – or rather them even if he was hiding it from Scotty right now, because he wanted to finish reading it on his own first before he had to pause every five minutes for reenactment- the fourth in the line of the spiderman comics. The fourth. He didn't even want to ask her what it was she was doing at work to be afforded that much money, or even if she'd come by it legally. Not that it mattered one way or another, either way he was engrossed in it, trusting his feet to lead him to the correct destination. “How long have been an artist?” Shit. He didn't even have to look up to recognize the voice, though his feet certainly stilled- stopping in place entirely in the instant it took him to close his eyes- counting backwards from five in the hopes that just maybe she'd move on. There couldn't be any real reason for her to be here after all- just like there couldn't be any real reason for her to be talking to him at all. She wasn't asking because she was really interested, that was for sure. Very slowly. Very slowly he let himself look up, careful to pass over anything about her but her eyes. He didn't care what outfit she had on or just how high her heels were- was she never not in heels? He just wanted to get to his twin- his twin who was most definitely going to be impatient by now. “You're not very good...” Well he guessed that was a no at her moving on. He sighed, audibly as he shut his book, placing it carefully under his arm between the binders that were already there. Safe enough even if he hadn't already made sure it was spelled properly to resist the damage that over excited fingers could cause. He knew he was good- good enough at least. The both of them were talented, even if Daniel was the only one who really cared to pursue it past cartoon renderings to go along with his stories. “Cat got your tongue? I asked you a question.” His eyes drifted past her- to the closed off section for only a moment before he allowed himself to look back at her. “No, you provided a set up to insult me. There is a difference Oddette.”

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TAGGED: miss.priss
WORD COUNT: 1831
ANY NOTES: hm hm hm
LYRICS: Maria Mena - Lose control
CREDITS: ALYX SAYS RAWR of A THOUSAND FIREFLIES

[Odette Cosway]

w e. c a n. d o. i t. e v e n. b e t t e r. w i t h
---------b r o k e n h e e l s

He'd only just passed her whenever she had spoken, he hadn't even felt the need to look at her. Like she was nothing. Perhaps she had been mistaken. There would be no conversation whatsoever if he wouldn't even look up at her. Would be no witty banter or red flushing to his face if he wouldn't even look at her. Why did it even matter to her so much? It had to be because she was wearing pants, she never wore pants....why did she want him to notice? They had been bothering her, sitting so close to her in classrooms...not to mention the incident in class the other day. It seemed like it was easier to handle them inside of the classroom, like it was just...better. Like they could be who they needed to be. She didn't look at the thing clamped just below his arm, didn't bother asking him what it was, didn't do anything but allow her perfectly glossed lips to turn upward ever so slightly, like she knew something that he didn't. At least for a moment...he always ruined everything by talking. “No, you provided a set up to insult me. There is a difference Oddette.” Her teeth pressed together, momentarily skewing her previously pretty expression. She didn't like it whenever people changed her name. It was simple enough really. 'Original' her mother had said, something to 'set her apart' and she hated it. Hated all of it, unfortunately, her middle name was even worse, and there was no easy way to shorten or make her last name sound cute. So, she was stuck with Odette. Even though it was only just the addition of another letter to her name, it was enough to change it...and he meant it to irritate her. Well congratulations to him, he had managed his task. As if talking to her was a chore.

Her tongue ran along the insides of her teeth. He looked so damn irritated that she was anywhere near him. That shouldn't matter. “Maybe,” she spat, surprised at herself that she even hadn't meant to. That however, was just for her to know. Her weight shifted from one foot to the other, the large purse on her shoulder that served as her book bag suddenly uncomfortable. “You still didn't answer me.” Her arms moved forward to cross over her chest, accusing him. As if it hadn't been her to have started all of this, like he owed her something. Her relationship with this twin was vastly different than with the other. Scott...she had a whole other set of issues with. They had all started out as friends, way before they had ever even been sorted. She'd seen the fact that Daniel was capable of being friendly, of having a wonderful sense of humor, and contrary to popular belief, it hadn't even been the sorting that had stopped their communications, hadn't even been the fact that their houses should have hated one another as some other students that she knew. For a lot of those in her house in particular, that just his house would be enough. Just the fact that he was on a rival Quidditch team it would be enough. For most people, there was just a plethora of reasons to choose from that should satisfy them. If they needed a reason to be bitter in the the first place. Most people tended to think that Odette was bitter for no reason. Somewhere along the line....somewhere over the course of the five years that she had already completed in this school, Daniel had become one of those people.

She knew the truth of the matter. She knew that she and Daniel had stopped talking well before she and Scott had. She didn't even have the rare times like she did with his brother, the times where he decided to be interested in her. With that being true...he had no reason whatsoever to be drawing her. In any way, unless it was with daggers sticking out of her side. She was fairly certain that was an accurate representation of how he had grown to think of her. Yet, the one she had found last year – during the lowest point the two of them had suffered through, he had drawn her...in full color. A close up of her face...it had been...beautiful. Not that she would ever tell him that. While the second was just as good, simpler in black and white...she didn't know what she was supposed to think about all of that. Was there anything to think about it in the first place? She needed to know. Needed to find out...something nameless. She hadn't had any idea that he liked to draw in the first place. It had been more than a small shock...even if she had made him feel like crap about it. She took a step towards him, shadows from the torches on the wall casting shadows across her face as she did, the smirk back with gusto.

tagged. Daniel - Danny - Dan
count. 834
clothes. here
comments. nope. i'm good for now.
credit. pan @ caution2.0

[Daniel Wilde]

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SHAME ON YOU FOR MAKING ME WAIT

T I M E . A N D . T I M E . A G A I N . Y O U ' R E . T O O . LATE

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He knew that adding the extra 'd' was going to annoy her, it was an easy go to for both he and his brother when they were seeking to annoy her... which was honestly more often Scotty than himself if they were keeping score of it at all- which they weren't, not really. It was just that Scotty was more comfortable talking to her on a regular basis- could still laugh and pick at her without getting angry. But then Scotty was the more trusting out of the two of them, and the one who was more likely to forgive. He had to be didn't he? To forgive all of the shit she'd put him through third year. Daniel's stomach twisted uncomfortably, knotted up as he watched her step closer with that little smirk on her face. Honestly all of that should have made his twin the one to dislike her- to be all the more wary of her. And in some ways he supposed it had. When she got into one of her moods it was Scotty who shrank back and made placating comments- it was Scotty who made the more biting comments back to her, sometimes even started them off. But he never seemed to make them as angrily as Daniel felt they should be, never seemed to be anything more than slightly irritated with her on occasion. He'd forgiven her or some nonsense, not that they ever discussed that in detail. They'd all once been friends, of a sort- she was the first one they'd made on the train, sharing the alcohol that sissy had given the two of them between that last crushing hug and their first steps off of the platform. She had been just as pretty then, although Daniel thought she'd looked softer, less likely to bite their heads off even if she had made some of the same sorts of caustic remarks that she did now. They didn't understand then that it really was all that made her up, had attributed to her more attractive qualities to match the exterior. Sometimes he thought that Scotty still did- made the same mistake that they'd both made those first two years. That maybe that was why his own sarcastic returns were sometimes uttered so fondly. Fondly to her. His face registered the bewilderment, fitting seeing that she was making her way still closer- as if she had any reason to want to talk to him. Hadn't she made that point clear enough already? She didn't care for his choice of acquaintances, didn't care for how he conducted his life, hell even recently had decided she didn't care for the fact that he drew. Nevermind the fact that the thing that had originally caused such issues between them should have come out in Odette's favor after all this time, with all that had happened- Scott had suggested as much once... only Danny knew better, had seen the similarities and the differences. It wasn't- like Scott thought a case of one or the other being right. They could both be right about different things. No, they had both been right about different things. The world wasn't black and white like Scott tended to view it. Scott still seemed to think that she wanted to talk to the two of them after all...

Something she was doing a good job of illustrating otherwise with the way she was looking at him now actually. ”Maybe.” Like he had suggested something so out of the ordinary, infusing enough venom into the one word as to fill a whole sentence. Maybe meaning yes of course- but he wasn't about to start arguing with her- not when she was in such a foul mood to begin with. The 'when is she not in a bad mood' hovering just on the edge of the thought. She was always in a bad mood. It was just who she was. He rocked back onto his heels- preparing himself for the wait he was in store for before she decided he'd bored her... again. It was inevitable. It was pattern. And if he stuck to the right lines he could manage to lessen his time spent with her. Maybe. He didn't get it though- her dislike of him. I mean it wasn't as if he had tried being her friend necessarily, and he and Scotty had never aimed their pranks in her direction- despite the talk of doing so... it just didn't make sense. That she could get along sometimes with Scotty and not him, not that he really cared, not really. He spent less time annoying her than Scott did in any case, it should have left her with less venom directed towards him... logically. ”You still didn't answer me.” Yes he had, just not what she wanted answered. She wanted to ask him questions about his art- his art that she had already both shown and proven her disdain for. His lips tilted slightly, craning his neck to the side so he could better look down at her. She had asked him a question... but he wasn't responsible for answering it after all- and he wasn't about to give it to her. Not when for once he was in charge of the decision to do so. “Yeah, you asked a question... and I asked you for my drawings back. Actually. I asked you not to take the last one at all... So...” He just barely bit back the 'so there' on the tip of his tongue, his eyes tightening slightly. He hadn't seen anything wrong with drawing her, hadn't even thought of her reaction should she find out. Though, even if he had, he wouldn't have seen this coming. As if he'd offended her by doing so. “They are of me. Which makes them more mine then yours. Besides, i've disposed of them” He watched the way she spoke, eyebrows meeting briefly at the thought of her throwing them away. Why would she do that? They had been good likenesses, shown her in an attractive light- not that she had an unattractive one and oh shit, there went the heat to his cheeks. It's not like it mattered. Obviously she knew she was attractive.

So why was she asking? “Why do you keep drawing me anyway?” His tongue flicked out against his lips, wetting them nervously as he tried to figure out what the hell she was really asking. Questions were never just that with her, were never without some intention to humiliate or degrade him. She'd done the same with the first question that she'd asked of him just now even. An opening. It was all she used it for. His eyebrows drew further together as he allowed himself to fully meet her gaze, his confusion evident. “Because I want to?” Was that not enough of a reason? Was he supposed to have others to go along with it? He drew what caught his eye. It was just what he did. Although somehow he doubted him phrasing it like that would go over any better than what he'd given her. Just like he doubted that telling her that he still had one of her that she didn't would.

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TAGGED: miss.priss
WORD COUNT: 1208
ANY NOTES: hm hm hm
LYRICS: Maria Mena - Lose control
CREDITS: ALYX SAYS RAWR of A THOUSAND FIREFLIES

[Odette Cosway]

w e. c a n. d o. i t. e v e n. b e t t e r. w i t h
---------b r o k e n h e e l s

He seemed so fucking bored of her presence. Which, offended her. Of course it did. She was used to people accommodating her. She was used to having people give up their seats so that she could sit, having jackets placed over puddles so her shoes wouldn't get ruined. She was used to being given every single thing that she wanted. Except from them. Most times. Of course, his little drawings she had gotten, because she had wanted them. That was how this was supposed to work. She was supposed to see something that she wanted, and then she was supposed to have it. No work, no effort. It was just supposed to be hers. It was how her father had raised her. She was always given what she wanted. She didn't even care that most considered that to be the hallmark of a spoiled little brat. She deserved it. This, more so than most things.
“They are of me. Which makes them more mine then yours.” It was true, she was even certain there was some little Greek rule about it that she could have been put upon to remember...had she a little more time.
“Besides, I've disposed of them” Her gaze locked onto his, brown eyes seeming to pierce right through her. The bag felt even heavier still. Seeming to dig into her shoulder with the simple words. Another lie, they just came far more easier to her than the truth these days, she didn't even have to think about it most of the time. Why did he keep looking away from her? Stop that. She looked damn good today. She knew she did.
“Why do you keep drawing me anyway?” that she did need an answer to. Hadn't even stopped to wonder why until just now, hadn't even thought that she would want to know the reason why, until the question had left her lips. Now, there was no way that she was going to walk away from here without knowing it.

“Because I want to?” Now, why would he want to do that? Still. There it was. Opening. She could work with that. That felt right, more like the little game that she was used to playing with him. Just like they did in class, just like they did whenever she cornered him in the courtyard and made him feel like an idiot. That was familiar, nevermind the fact that they were alone. Never mind the fact that she normally only played it up because there was an audience. Nevermind the fact that it felt...so wholly different. He didn't have his brother here to calm him down, didn't have Scott whispering cruel things about her in his ear. She wasn't stupid. She knew what their little looks meant, knew when they were talking about her and when they weren't. Still. She could feel her face changing from the expression it had held before, something familiar to him now she was sure. She took a step closer to him, making her eyes a little more wide, a little more vulnerable. One of the two straps to her purse slipped from her shoulder with the motion. “And why do you want to?” she pulled her bottom lip just slightly between her teeth, waiting.

Maybe he would let something slip. Maybe he would be distracted and say something that he shouldn't. Maybe he would give her a real answer for once. Just maybe. She hadn't made him flustered in a long while...not that she should know that. Not that she should care. Usually, it was just irritated. Didn't even register with her that she was standing closer to him, and absent the desk that normally separated them. They never did interact often outside of classrooms...the desk had been her comfort zone...and now it was gone.

tagged. Daniel - Danny - Dan
count. 640
clothes. here
comments. nope. i'm good for now.
credit. pan @ caution2.0

[Daniel Wilde]

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SHAME ON YOU FOR MAKING ME WAIT

T I M E . A N D . T I M E . A G A I N . Y O U ' R E . T O O . LATE

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Shit shit shit. The mental litany of cursing took up the majority of his functioning thought process, eyes following the flash in her eyes at whatever it was he'd done to signal her- that side of her. Like a shark that had smelt blood. She hadn't, he realized, ever truly made him as uncomfortable as she did when she looked at him like that- as if she were searching for something, something he immediately felt like he needed to hide from her even if he didn't know what it was that he was hiding. Like something on his face could potentially give her even more power than she felt that she had now. An expression that shifted from calculating to beguiling. The widening of her eyes, the pull of her lips... He knew she was playing games. Obviously he knew. He'd seen her do the same thing repeatedly in class, around an audience.. He was familiar enough with the way that her face tilted up at him in that way, the daggers hidden just beneath her skin- on the tip of her barbed tongue that was just out of sight. He knew. He did, but it didn't stop the red from increasing in his cheeks, hand going out to push the strap of her purse back up onto her shoulder as he shook his head. “And why do you want to?” He hated games. He hated the fact that she felt like she could play them with him after all of these years. Or the fact that they worked in any sort of way on him at all. Even if it was just to annoy him, or to make him pay closer attention. He didn't want to be a part of her games in any form. He'd been the recipient of the damn things for too long of a time to find anything about them worthwhile on his end. Even on hers, it only served to prove just what kind of person that she really was... His fingers were very careful not to touch her skin, retreating the minute that the strap was back where it had originally been, both eyebrows rising slightly in response to her question. “What do you want Odette?” Much easier than saying what they both already knew. Much safer than facing her anger at him saying it. He could think she was pretty all day long, and even if she was searching for it- she'd only find a way to turn the words back around on him and make him regret ever even allowing them through his head. She just needed to state her intentions plain and clear and leave it there. To drop the games that had him watching her so warily, or the looking up at him like that. He wouldn't ever draw her with this face on, this mask she used to try and get her way. It didn't stretch over her skin right, didn't sit well with him in any way.

“Obviously, I want to know why you really keep drawing me.” He couldn't help himself, the way the muscles in his stomach tightened at her finger running over his flesh, his head shaking once as if to deny that she was doing it. This was pointless. Pointless and stupid. She wasn't touching him because she wanted to or for the reactions it was causing. She was doing it... for something more twisted. And that was wrong, should have registered more aptly in his brain. More games. Like she just couldn't help but to twist him up in them. Was this what she did with Scotty- this that he mistook for her being 'less like Medusa'. On those rare occasion they seemed less likely to snip at one another and his twin tripped into their dorm room with the story ready on his lips? He'd told him time and time again that he must be reading it wrong- that he was seeing her emotions shift and taking it the wrong way. The fact that Scott could see that face she was presenting him with as anything but a pretense was pushing his brother's naivety too far though. Was it just him then that she disliked so intensely? She and Scott argued more, snarked more at one another- but then she wasn't snatching things out of his hands and telling him how much he sucked at them. No, that wasn't fair, she said more insulting things to Scotty on a more regular basis. It was just that with her finger trailing his forearm like that he had a too real problem with remembering that she wasn't the same girl from the train ride that had made them all friends of a sort- that she really was as duplicitous as her house would suggest of her nature. His hand came out abruptly, closing around her wrist and pulling her entire hand back away from him- severing the contact of her finger against his too sensitive flesh. “I've drawn you three times Odette. It isn't like I'm obsessed with you.” Well, not really. He just thought she was pretty... and occasionally thought that if she would just fucking smile more maybe she would be easier to be around. She couldn't be this bitchy all of the time- he didn't think that was possible. He'd been assured that she did in fact have a down time to that smirk she seemed to constantly wear in his presence. He'd thought that he'd seen it on occasion, but he'd been told otherwise over the years. Often enough from both sides that he wasn't even sure where to stand on it anymore.

Her gasp had his eyes running her face quickly, checking for damage that he logically knew wasn't there. Shit, he wasn't holding her with enough force to hurt her, at least he didn't think he was- even if he was forced to reevaluate it when she gasped, fingers flexing to make sure that it wasn't crushing her wrist or something. Not even enough to make it sore, he'd only grabbed it with enough force to keep her from slipping right back out of his hand again and going back to touching him. That was it, but her eyes were turning away from him- refusing to meet his. And that was a first. Her backing down in any sort of way. Even when he was pretending to be Scotty, responding to her jabs and attempted insults she always managed to come right back with one- throw whatever he said back in his face. He felt himself tilting his body, his head, to better accommodate the new angle, trying to read the expression on her face. Trying- because it wasn't one he'd ever seen there before, certainly not put there by himself. Without the familiar sneer on her lips she almost looked...soft... “Why not?” Why not? Confusion filtered through him, face registering the emotion easily enough. Was she asking why he wasn't obsessed with her? Didn't she have enough groupies following her around- bragging that they'd got a 'piece of her' after a few weeks? He shook his head again- almost opening his lips to answer her, but her fingers were curling, eyes shifting back up to his with a retort more suited to how she usually dealt with him on her lips. “I'll be needing that third one Danny boy” Laughter. He couldn't help it, escaping up and out his throat as he dropped her wrist from his grasp. Stupid to think she looked soft in any light. “I don't think so. You have two of mine. I'm entitled to keep the third.” The third.. he'd almost forgotten that she didn't know about it- hadn't considered that she wouldn't have been aware of the rough sketch Scotty had done of the three of them that first night after the sorting. He didn't mind that she'd been sorted into another house, Daniel himself had laughed about how green would suit her- she'd certainly be able to keep up that bitchy repertoire they were famous for. He could have left it there of course... it was only last year that he'd finished the thing at all- stretched out over canvas instead of paper. The three of them laughing. Scotty had it between the two of their beds, had bought the frame for it without any comment. The same as he'd sat behind him while he tried his hand at the oil paints he'd used to create it, mixing the colors together without being asked and shading in where Daniel missed.

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TAGGED: miss.priss
WORD COUNT: 1434
ANY NOTES: hm hm hm
LYRICS: Maria Mena - Lose control
CREDITS: ALYX SAYS RAWR of A THOUSAND FIREFLIES

[Odette Cosway]

w e. c a n. d o. i t. e v e n. b e t t e r. w i t h
---------b r o k e n h e e l s

A pink flush rose in his cheeks, satisfaction spreading through her limbs as she watched his gaze avert, even if only slightly. That was the look she was familiar with. The same look that was usually followed by the pair of them standing and leaving class or sinking into their chairs without another word. The same flush that meant she had gotten through to them, that she was winning this stupid little game that they just kept playing every time they were near one another. Only, he didn't shrink away like she was expecting him to. He was moving, touching her bag and not her skin. Not that it meant it effected her any less. She hated that the skin on her arm tightened whenever he hadn't even touched her, all he had done was push the strap of her bag back and yet the small of her back was already covered in goose flesh. Still, her lips turned dutifully up at the corners, not quite a smirk, but in no way a smile. Her lips were pressed too tightly for that. “Obviously,” she bridged the gap, letting a finger run down his forearm slowly, hair falling over one shoulder with a purpose “I want to know why you really keep drawing me.” was his whole room covered in doodles of her? Did he imagine himself with her last name in his little pink diary? She wouldn't doubt it. So long as her thoughts kept belittling him, he was easier to handle. Easier than the...other. Other thinking about the fact that maybe....just maybe he was drawing her for another reason. A more..intimate reason. She had hardly had time to tilt her chin upward at him...that was usually the cincher, usually what caused her to get her way. Her full lips turning into almost a pout, doe eyes...and yet he wasn't falling for it like he should. He wasn't stammering or getting that lustful look in his eyes...he looked...he looked...she had no idea how he looked. That was a first.

His fingers enclosed around her wrist – she hadn't been expecting that. Her expression shifted at the suddenness, he'd never touched her before. Not this one. Not ever, in any capacity. Her lips parted with the gasp she didn't have time to stop. Something more than startled, something that would embarrass her whenever she reflected back on this later. Her arm tugged in his grasp and he didn't let go. The fingers of her hand closed into a loose fist, the bag falling from her arm to the floor and she didn't blink. He wasn't playing. That...was new. This was all new. “I've drawn you three times Odette. It isn't like I'm obsessed with you.” her eyes diverted, she couldn't look at him in this light. It was shameful. Shameful heat that flooded her. Three times? That meant that there was another drawing somewhere else, one that she hadn't seen. She could have asked if she was even wearing cloths in that one, how long he had taken to draw her assets, how often he had to think about her in order to actually take the time to draw her. “Why not?” that came out more softly than it ought to of. Nevermind the fact that she had seemingly made it her mission to make their lives hell. Nevermind that he had every reason to hate her, they both did. They were just...they were the only two people in this castle she needed to like her. It wasn't the same game as it was with everybody else. They meant something to her... and by all rights they shouldn't matter to her at all. She didn't even like the traitorous thought as it crossed her mind. Didn't like the feel of his fingers on her in any capacity, his skin cold to the touch, soothing around her wrist...disgusting. Clammy. She needed to think, to change her point of view. She couldn't...no. She just wanted the pictures. They were the root cause of enough rumors about her, she wouldn't have any more. That third could be of anything, sure the first two she had found were flattering...but that didn't mean that this one was. It could be the worst by far. By the time she was able to shift her gaze back up to his eyes, her fist had managed to close. “I'll be needing that third one Danny boy”

Her heart was hammering. Why the hell was that happening? That was just unacceptable. Her skin felt flush, heated. The second that she was released her hand lowered back to her side, reconsidering and both hands moved to her hips. She turned her head back up to him instantly, able to control herself now that she was of her own person once more. Now that he wasn't touching her. Even if it hadn't been touching her really. His laughter was insulting. Yes, that felt better. Being abraded by him. Her face settled back how it should. “I don't think so.” her lips curled “Unless it's more...perverse?” she chuckled darkly “Dirty boy, Even then, I'm going to need to see it.”

tagged. Daniel - Danny - Dan
count. 864
clothes. here
comments. nope. i'm good for now.
credit. pan @ caution2.0

[Daniel Wilde]

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SHAME ON YOU FOR MAKING ME WAIT

T I M E . A N D . T I M E . A G A I N . Y O U ' R E . T O O . LATE

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He was actually entitled to all three- by rights. He had been the one to draw them- the two that she had taken from him so angrily. Spent his time and talent on. By any law he knew that did make them his, no matter what she said. It wasn't as if there was some contract between the two of them that entitled her to any part of them. Certainly no slip of paper that he had signed that had given her any. Not that he was arguing that point with her- he could have, he would have had no problem doing so either. Lawyer for a father or not she couldn't know half of the wizarding laws he'd learned through his familial ties to the ministry. With so many aurors in the house it was an obvious choice of discussion- of branding into the three youngest's minds. It was probably why they'd all avoided anything to do with the subject at school- even if there was the high risk of gravitating towards it themselves after they walked the stage. It wasn't as if he had any real reason for disputing all but that part either, he couldn't quite place what held his tongue. “I don't think so. Unless it's more...perverse? Even then, I'm going to need to see it.” Although the more she spoke the more he wondered whether or not he'd made the right decision on his course of action- there really was no winning with her. He could feel his jaw tensing, feel the roll of his eyes as he squared the things under his arm more securely. He was done with this. He could practically feel Scotty pacing the tower floor above him, feel the impatience and irritation rolling off of him even from this distance. They were well connected at least, the irritation feeding his own with the blonde in front of him. It was enough to fuel him at least, turn his eyes on her with less wonder and more exasperation. He had things to do, people's mornings to ruin with their antics tonight. A particular chaser to pay back for the comments at last weeks practice. That was what tonight was supposed to have been about, not about this- whatever this was with Odette. He blew out a sigh through his teeth, shaking his head. “Whatever Odette. I'm done here.” He stepped forward, placing himself a bit closer to her than should have probably been advisable, pushing himself just slightly to the side and looking over at her. “Not everyone is as twisted as you you know.” Not everyone had a hidden agenda behind what they did- certainly not what they drew. He bent, fully intending to pick her purse up and walk off- only he could see the edge of that familiar sketch paper, could see it pressed against the journal she had in there and without even pausing he reached his hand the rest of the way down, plucking it out and securing it in the fingers of the hand that belonged to the arm holding all of his own things before scooping her purse up- holding it out to her with raised brows. “Threw it away huh?”

What a fucking load of crock. If she had wanted the drawing all she had to do was ask for it, not belittle him for doing it at all and then pretend she'd taken it to throw away. He couldn't have pissed her off that much, to pretend to dislike his art just because he'd been the one to do it. She couldn't say that she didn't like it with it sitting right there in her bag. It had just been the artist who had rendered it... He couldn't help but question if it had been Scotty who had pushed the lead over the paper if she would find it more acceptable- if she would have handled it differently. A thought he had to squash the minute it occurred to him. Of course not- if anything she would have been even more volatile, made a bigger scene in front of everyone. It was only in his twin's imagination that she could be any more pleasant in her dealings with people. The drawing wasn't the best he had done, but he liked what he'd begun at least- both in technical and aesthetic quality.. It wasn't even finished. But whatever. He could feel his eyes tightening, feel the irritation searing his throat the more he looked over at her, felt the weight of the paper and the meaning between his fingers. “I said disposed of. I never said how.” Yeah, disposed of. It wasn't the same as keeping, but he wasn't going to argue that point- again, he was letting things slide. It seemed he always did with her. Maybe that was what made her relationship different with Scott- where he called her out in public he didn't so much in private. It felt like it was the opposite with Daniel, but he wasn't given much time with her in private. This is why he avoided it. This rash of... whatever it was that rushed over his skin and ignited his bones. He shouldn't care so much- only he took pride in his drawings, he liked them. He liked making them, and he liked how they turned out. Other people usually did too. And the fact that she wanted to pretend she hadn't just to what- hurt his feelings? Was it even worth all of that. The hand that had been holding her purse until she snatched it back came to scrub at his chin, the bristling there from where he hadn't shaved in two days grating against the skin between his thumb and forefinger as he fought back the words itching to come up his throat. “You know what here-” he transferred the paper between hands, shoving it at her tensely. “You could have just fucking asked for it.” He would have given it to her, he knew that he would have. He wouldn't have kept it from her intentionally if she had gone about it differently.

He didn't want to see the way that her fingers twisted up in her shirt, or the way her eyes seemed to widen almost as if she were the one who were feeling trapped- frantic here, almost as if it were his words hurting her and not the other way around. Designed. It had to be even if it were more well played than the ones before it. He didn't want to but he did. Just like he noticed the way she seemed to avoid meeting his eyes for that full space of a breath- and the way that her voice came out strained, came out much less sure than her usual biting remarks. “Pretty sure I did. You know what - I'm not going to ask again for something that's mine. Whatever. I just want to properly burn it is all. No point in doing it before I have the whole set is there?” Defensive. He'd seen it often enough, Matty had a bad problem with it- resorting to it when he felt he was being outsmarted or outstripped in any way. She was defensive. Why he couldn't possibly guess, but the fact that she was at all had him staying his feet, stopped him from walking off as he'd intended. “Its yours now because I gave it to you,” slow- sure, his eyes running over her face as if measuring her, looking for whatever it was that had brought about this chink in her armor. This chink in … he didn't want to say her bitchiness because that sounded too much like he was reverting to Scott's way of thinking. Giving her more attractive attributes and all. The inside didn't match the outside, and so long as he remembered that he could survive these encounters. “If you were going to burn it you would have already.” He'd seen her destroy other things much more quickly, and with less provocation- the thing about the set tasted like a lie, he could practically feel it in his pores, a last ditch effort to try and save face. From who? There were only two of them in this hallway in the first place and she had never cared what he thought before, hadn't ever tried to seem anything less than the bitter type of angry that she was.

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TAGGED: miss.priss
WORD COUNT: 1417
ANY NOTES: hm hm hm
LYRICS: Maria Mena - Lose control
CREDITS: ALYX SAYS RAWR of A THOUSAND FIREFLIES

[Odette Cosway]

w e. c a n. d o. i t. e v e n. b e t t e r. w i t h
---------b r o k e n h e e l s

“Whatever Odette. I'm done here.” Done? Done?? He was walking away from her? She didn't think that was going to happen. No way. He didn't get to walk away from her. Still, his proximity stole the words from her lips. It was strange, not making the moves on him. She had certainly been a lot closer to him than this...but always on her terms. Always by her initiative. This had seemed like a good idea at the time...but she couldn't remember for the life of her why it had now. What had she come in here to do? What had her end game been? His fucking hand on her wrist seemed to have pushed everything logical out of her head. It was such a simple contact. She could handle contact. People certainly touched her often enough, her hair was so soft they would say, her legs so pretty. Oh the fabric of this or that so rich, and they would touch her. Touching didn't bother her in the slightest, even normally she would have thought that it was almost friendly. Not that him grabbing her like that had been friendly, the opposite in fact. She had been the one to touch him first after all...but still she could feel his grasp like a bracelet against her skin. Lingering. “Not everyone is as twisted as you you know.” That simply wasn't true. They were all just as twisted, or worse. Sooner or later, she was just more up front about it. She didn't blanch whenever he stooped to pick up her fallen bag, it was her fault that it had fallen in the first place. Then his hand was in the bag and her brows lifted, no no no. That just wasn't going to work for her. He shouldn't be seeing that. She had said. - “Threw it away huh?” Fuck. No. This wasn't going to end well. She should have thrown the damn thing away last year. Merlin what was he going to be thinking...that she just carried around pictures of herself for months on end? She didn't move to reclaim her bag, moving instead for the paper in his hand. “I said disposed of. I never said how.” she explained hurriedly, she could melt into the stone floors right about now. She was close to stamping her foot to get it back. It was hers. He had drawn it for her. Even if he didn't say so.

She didn't even care that she bag had fallen to the floor again, she wanted the picture back. This wasn't why she had separated the two of them, this wasn't how this was supposed to have gone. Her eyes followed the paper from hand to hand. She was above grabbing for it. She was above it. She wasn't going to jump for it. She didn't want it that badly. She didn't. Her hands balled into the soft fabric of her white shirt, pulling it from where it had been so neatly tucked into the waist of her skirt, she needed to keep her hands settled. “You know what here-” What was he doing? Why was he holding it out to her? “You could have just fucking asked for it.” She had. More or less. She had asked for the third one too. In her way, that had been rather nice. She could have had his room searched. Could have, and didn't. “Pretty sure I did.” her eyes moving from the paper to his face, the little mole on his cheek and to his eyes. “You know what -” she huffed, her teeth chomping down on her cheek for a moment, attempting to calm herself. “I'm not going to ask again for something that's mine. Whatever. I just want to properly burn it is all. No point in doing it before I have the whole set is there?” there was something strange about her voice, even she didn't recognize it, that wouldn't last long. She wouldn't allow it. “Its yours now because I gave it to you,” Her lips pressed together, no. It was hers because she had taken it. He was twisting everything. He was making it wrong. All wrong. She should have managed to reduce him already. Should have been easy enough. It had seemed like such an innocent diversion at the time, should have been simple to push him down and kick dirt in his face. She had made him uncomfortable with a lot less. Still, her hand let go of her shirt, lifting her hand to the paper expectantly, but only halfway. Only ever halfway. He needed to hand it to her. She wasn't going to be the one snatching, because that would mean she was doing what he wanted. She couldn't have that. “If you were going to burn it you would have already.” Her jaw shifted to the side, not liking the truth to his words. He didn't need to know why she had kept it. The fingers on her outstretched hand wiggled a little, considering before lowering her hand again. She couldn't walk away with her attitude in place and the picture. One was going to have to be sacrificed. She just...really wanted the picture back. “Fine. I didn't like it anyway...” that sounded too much like a lie for her tastes. “Burn it yourself. Keep it. Use it for your own twisted desires, it's the closest you're ever going to get. If you can get it up anyway.” she huffed, corner of her lip pulling between her teeth in spite of her defiant gaze. Hand dropping unsteadily to her side. Displeasure and something that felt akin to sadness filled her at the prospect of not getting it back...she knew why she couldn't have it. She did know. She just...really wanted it.

She could feel her body jostled by the contact of his shoulder. Bad touch. Again. She didn't like the way that the very first time he had ever been moved to touch her, had him doing it so defensively. “You know- if you weren't so damn angry all the time you might actually be pretty.” Her eyes widened, Merlin that hurt. Her chest seized, pulling her need to defend herself from somewhere deep within her. He had always hurt more than Scott. Always. Even whenever she tried to tell him honest things...like...like when she had. “I am pretty.” She stated boldly, defensive. Attempting to brush off his words as soon as they had registered in her head. Her ankle rolling the shoe from side to side in her agitation, she had said it loud enough for him to hear. On purpose, maybe even a little too loud. He was walking away from her. Who the hell did he think he was, and the doors were shutting, closing him from view. Why did she feel like she had just lost something? “I am pretty,” she said again, softly, to herself. Her ankle rolling to the point that it would look painful to some, might have been, if she wasn't so steady in her shoes. He wasn't coming back. He really wasn't coming back. She contemplated leaving the picture, he would have to come down from the damned tower sooner or later, and he could have it back then. Her ego said that she should, just leave it and never look back. Just wash her hair of him. Her knees bent, pressed together painfully from lack of room in her skirt, scooping her belongings back into her purse. She paused at the picture, picking it up and pressing it to her chest as she stood up again.

tagged. Daniel - Danny - Dan
count. 1280
clothes. here
comments. nope. i'm good for now.
credit. pan @ caution2.0

[Daniel Wilde]

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SHAME ON YOU FOR MAKING ME WAIT

T I M E . A N D . T I M E . A G A I N . Y O U ' R E . T O O . LATE

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He should have left earlier, he didn't like the way this was all becoming so convoluted and … uncertain. Shifting the balance of whatever this was. His lips pulled into a thin line, looking down at her hand as she dropped it. He didn't know why that mattered, but it did- didn't know why he was even watching her moving in the first place. He'd said he was done earlier only to be drawn back in by her words. Design. She was conniving, he'd known it and fallen for it anyways. “Fine. I didn't like it anyway... Burn it yourself. Keep it. Use it for your own twisted desires, it's the closest you're ever going to get. If you can get it up anyway.” Again, irritation, quick as it shot through him. What? Now she wouldn't take the fucking picture because of her ego? Her pride? She had to talk about him defacing his own reputation, of being some kind of … stalker just to keep her own reputation in tact? It was so damn stupid, he'd never understand the lengths that those from her house went to try and uphold reputations that they built up all in their own head anyways. With a noise in the back of his throat, half laughter, half disbelief he dropped the thing entirely, letting it float back down to the bag she'd dropped again, sidestepping her entirely, only pausing when his shoulder brushed hers. He wasn't going to look at her again, wasn't going to look at the rendering that was down there atop the rest of her things. He needed to be done now, he needed to be up in the tower with Scotty's hand on his back as he spewed his own irritation at why he was so late. And he'd take it, silently- he'd give up the private reading of the rest of the comic with the lie that it was what kept him so long. A lie. He knew he'd be doing it, even if he didn't know why, even if it would be the first between them... ever. His heart clenched, stuttered in his chest as he registered just what all that meant for him- for his other half. As he realized the depravity that the little blonde was dragging him to. He was no better than her. “You know- if you weren't so damn angry all the time you might actually be pretty.” The words were pulled from him, more considering than angry in the moment before he stepped away from her- his muscles tense from their exchange. Damn stupid and then some. He shook his head as he passed through the doorway, refusing to look back and see if she'd picked up the picture. He'd given it to her- it was her choice what she did or didn't do with it now.

“I am pretty.” It didn't stop him from hearing her rejoinder, too loud to have been to herself even if he could hear her mutter something else after it. Designing. Slytherin. Blonde. They all counted against her, all three traits what he repeated in his head in order to keep his feet moving. He'd fallen for her trap the last time, been forced to exchange words he would have rather gone without saying- had their exchange become even more complicated than it had been before. He wasn't falling for it again. He was going to Scotty. Scotty... who he was now keeping things from. Would be keeping things from. His breath seized, something akin to what he imagined his brother felt when his asthma acted up, his eyes rolling up towards the ceiling as he began to ascend the stairs. Was Scott even feeling any of this? These waves of .. emotion that were crashing through him? He couldn't blame those on a comic book, not believably. He'd never been asked to lie to his brother before, had never even attempted to... the sudden intake of breath at the thought of not being able to do it, the sudden question of whether or not he even should... fucking. His fist flew out- hitting the side of the stone with too much force, the bones cracking in response. Not broken, he'd had that, he knew as he cradled the hand in front of his chest that it couldn't be more than bruised. But he'd needed it- had needed the release before he'd gotten upstairs. His breath gusted out heavier than it should have, soles of his shoes pounding the stone as he hurried his pace in order to reach his brother faster. He didn't know how long the interaction downstairs had taken, how long it had taken him to escape her... he knew that it shouldn't have been that long, not long enough to cause any sort of real worry in his other half... he didn't think. He hoped.

It wasn't until he was swinging his body through the open doorway at the edge of the stairs that he allowed his pace to slow any though, easily finding the form of his brother turning from pacing across the cobbled floors. About time. He couldn't even answer, even though he could place the worry behind the short exhalation, even though he could feel the steps coming closer to him. Shit. ”What in the fuck took so long? I almost just fucking started it all without you.” Impatient now as he was only a foot or so away. Daniel couldn't even meet his eyes, instead pulling out his flimsy paper excuse and waving it. “I thought I'd read this on the way up I didn't realize how slow I'd have to walk not to run into people. Didn't factor it in.” Face still turned just away from him, the words rushed out on one breath. Something he knew was too quick as fingers grabbed at his face, forcing amber to amber- pupils almost physically boring into his as the questions pushed beneath the other's surface. ”Okay...” Just like that, the disbelief was shrugged off, hands moving down his face to clap at his back. He didn't buy it, Danny knew he didn't.. but he was taking it anyways. Sickness curled within him, anger at the blonde he'd left downstairs increasing. No better... he was no better, but she'd been the one to bring him there. His muscles pulled uncomfortably as he was pulled towards the crates they'd had moved up earlier that morning.

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TAGGED: miss.priss
WORD COUNT: 1078
ANY NOTES: hm hm hm
LYRICS: Maria Mena - Lose control
CREDITS: ALYX SAYS RAWR of A THOUSAND FIREFLIES