bludhavensbluebird:

     She really wasn’t kidding when she said she wasn’t a sports fan was she? He almost felt the need to explain how the game worked if he wasn’t sure she’d hate him for it. Correcting her on anything seemed like a bad move to begin with and right now he was in no position to mess things up. Not when she’s in the same room as him, next to him and sitting on his bed (even if he didn’t want to be there in the first place). ❛Well, the other team isn’t exactly lookin’ to make friends out there.❜ He teases, wanting to smile at his own joke but resisting the urge. Hands clutch the pink cloth she’d so graciously given him, pressing it to his own lip once more until he was sure he wasn’t bleeding anymore. And of course, he’s made a mental note to clean it, adding it to the ever growing list of things he owes her. When she asks about Rahne however, he’s glad she’s already sitting down for the story he’s about to tell. ❛Of course I did. I made you a promise didn’t I? It wasn’t easy either though. For one, I had to find as many people from class as I could, asking questions about the redhead Gryffindor girl. Then someone finally knew her name and all that was left was to find her. I told her my apology was kinda overdue and she punched me in the jaw. She has a hell of a right hook, y’know. Made me carry around her books all day too until she finally said I was off the hook. Or rather she said she ‘hated me a little less’ which I took as a good sign.❜ 

       “It doesn’t seem like anyone is trying to make friends with you.” Shock was a predominant feature on her face as he told his story about Rahne but the further he got and the more consequences that were introduced the more she smiled. She was trying to bite it down; she felt guilty for her want to laugh at him when he was obviously distraught and for good reason knowing Rahne the way she knew Rahne. It was an extreme length to go to on even talking to her and it was all her fault. Perhaps she should have felt bad for the punch he fielded in her name but here she sat just an arms length away from him on his bed with a grin on her face as his story escalated. “I can’t believe you blew a potion up on Rahne Sinclair. You must have the worst luck in this whole school.” It was only after he finished telling his tale her eyes trained themselves on a bruise that looked a bit older than the rest. It seemed so safe to assume all his injuries were from his fall but as she reached across the space between them and ran her thumb over the mark à la Rahne holding his chin up in the process so she might have a better look she couldn’t help but let go of the laugh she’d been holding back. “Does it still hurt? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Perhaps she’d gotten a bit too comfortable in the friendly nature they’d created; forgotten her own disdain in the grander picture. Either way she let a bit of dry humor slip, “When are you going to carry all of my books?”

Mar 7 21:56 ( ♥ 18 )