Desired Solitude (open--males)

[tempestgrey]

In her five years, Estelle had never seen the Common Room empty of all students. The weather was fantastic, in everyone else's opinion; Estelle never enjoyed the sun. She prefered the days in which the blue sky was obstructed by dark gray clouds. However, a thunderstorm was never welcome in her mind--they terrified her.
This seemed to be a lucky day for Estelle. Everyone was out enjoying the so-called "nice" weather, so she was free to enjoy the Common Room by herself. Sweet, sweet solitude.
She collapsed onto one of the leather chairs and stared into the crackling fire. The year had just started...it wasn't too late to introduce herself to someone. No, she was too shy, too ashamed of herself. And why shouldn't she be? Here she was in the Slytherin Common Room. True, it wasn't her fault that, unlike her family, she was cunning and ambitious instead of courageous, like the Gryffindors, like her family...
Estelle expelled the grim thoughts from her mind and focused on remembering every word her professors had uttered in that day's classes. She still had that knack for Defense Against the Dark Arts--that pleased her. The long summer had not stolen a single ounce of knowledge from her intelligent mind, and she still worked through her classes with ease. She had no friends, barely any family (in the figurative sense), and received no love even from herself, but at least she had her classes and knowledge.

Estelle cursed her puny height of four feet, ten inches. The bookshelf in the Common Room was obviously built in respect to people of average height. The tiny people were clearly not in mind. She stood on her toes, stretching her arm as far as she could, but her fingers didn't come close to the spine of the black leather-bound novel that sat on the top shelf. Of course that book would be the only one to catch her interest. How typical. She absolutely refused to use magic to aqcuire the book--her stubborn nature would not allow it. She hated employing magic to do simple things; she thought using magic to complete everyday tasks was very lazy.
She gave up, scurried over to the nearest armchair, and gave it a swift, hard kick. That gave her an idea... Using every ounce of her strength, she dragged the heavy armchair over to the bookshelf.
And she still couldn't reach the top shelf. 'Why do I have to enjoy reading so much?' she thought with resentment toward herself. She ignored the sound of someone's entrance and continued her mission to retrieve the novel.

[amorte]

Stifling heat and sunlight permiated the air above ground, but here in the subterranean common room of the Slytherin’s there was a pleasant cool in the air that made having a fire in this heat bearable. In the darkness of a corner was hidden the long, muscled figure of a lying male stretched out on one of the leather sofas, his pale hand resting on the carven arm rest, icy white contrasting on the black, aged wood like snow on coal.

He had been dozing fitfully for the last two hours, the slightest sound dragging him toward the waking world, only for him to sink once more into the warm, peaceful folds of oblivion once more. He hadn’t slept properly at nights for the last few days so recently he had been using more than half of his free time to catch up on his sleep. Homework was done at three AM sitting in a silent common room lit only by the embers of the fire. It wasn’t a healthy pattern at all.

But the groaning creek of furniture made the older Slytherin open his left eye, the white grey scanning the room drowsily for the source of the unholy squealing. It looked like some tiny girl pushing and shoving... no. He raised his good arm and rubbed his eye, feeling the chill of the long scar with some distaste. The vision of the smaller girl was still there.

He sat up, focussing properly to see a girl jumping up and down in front of a book case, trying desperately to reach the top shelf without success. Slowly, he took to foot, making sure he had his balance before he approached and leaned on the warm stone wall by the fire. “Can I offer you some assistance?”

[tempestgrey]

Estelle's lower lip was jutted in a pout, and her brow was furrowed with frustration. It seemed this book was trying to elude her--not such an irrational thought when one is a student at Hogwarts. She could have sworn the novel was one shelf lower...had it moved when she had her back turned? Maybe she should just write today instead of attempting to read...

She shrieked at the sound of a voice and nearly fell off the chair on which she stood. Hadn't she been alone all this time?! 'Oh, fantastic...now I look like a complete fool,' she hissed in her mind. She clambered off the chair and took a step back from this boy--er, man, by the look of him, although she had to assume he was a student. She quickly examined him. How had he acquired that unusual scar over his eye? Despite this evidence of past damage, he was handsome...nothing Estelle cared about, though. Her trust in males was nonexistent; therefore, her interest was absent.

"Um...sure," she muttered in a voice almost too low to hear. It was courteous of him to offer help, but how could she be sure his intentions weren't harmful? No, it was just her paranoia again. Of course she shouldn't refuse his help--what would be her excuse? Oh, that's alright, I was just about to grow another foot. Yes, that would go over so well. But what would he think of her not using a simple levitation charm or just saying "accio book?"
Now didn't she look foolish?

[amorte]

He had been watching her briefly as she strugged to reach the book, making sure that he didn't look too haggard after several hours on a hidden sofa, twisting and turning. The shriek however, was too comical for him to resist laughing, though he stepped forward to catch her in case she fell, though she seemed content to wobble.

Even as her eyes ran over him, his eyes studied her and took in all the details he could, not only her height. He flicked an ashen hand through his long, jet hair leaving it touseled but somewhat styling, the hairgel doing it's job nicely for once.

When she accepted her help, he gave her a small nod and closed in, simply stepping onto the sofa where she had done, using his substancial six foot and a bit height to reach the top shelf with ease and hand her down the book she had been struggling for. It looked like a DADA book, which he gave a glance over. "This is a really good book." He smiled, runing his hands over the cover. "I read it last year... I'm a bit of a duelling nut." He grinned and offered his slender, pale hand. "Amorte, pleased to meet you...?"

[tempestgrey]

Why was he laughing? She had done nothing humorous. His laugh was smooth, almost practiced, in a way. Estelle narrowed her eyes as she watched the young wizard. His hair didn't move as much as it should. Too much product, she suspected...just another person destroying the all-too-necessary ozone layer. She couldn't help rolling her eyes while he wasn't looking.

She watched him reach up easily and snatch the elusive book off of the top shelf of the bookcase.
"Thanks," she whispered, and her hand twitched to take the book from him, but she stopped herself when she saw that he wasn't offering it to her. 'He's giving me a book review?' she thought with an acidic tone. She had accepted his assistance, not requested his thoughts on the desired Defense Against the Dark Arts book.

She let none of these internal thoughts escape her lips as she studied the boy in front of her--she was much too shy to speak her mind. In fact, she was too shy to even look him in the eye. She kept her head bowed; if it wasn't so conspicuous, she would have shaken her hair so it fell in front of her face.

Her cheeks turned even more red when the boy introduced himself as "Amorte" and offered his hand. Cautiously, she stepped forward and grasped his cool hand with her own tiny, trembling one. "Estelle," she mumbled in her shy, little voice. She withdrew her hand quickly and crossed her arms. It hadn't occurred to her while she was wrestling with the bookcase--the dungeons were quite chilly this afternoon, and her robes were in her dorm.
Fabulous. She was now humiliated, afraid, and cold. She reached out once more with her palm up as a way of asking for the book.

[amorte]

Amorte could pick up the cool intent from the stranger, something that he didn't usually receive from fellow Slytherins. An icy air about her suggested that she disapproved and was even uncomfortable in his presence. A little shudder of annoyance trickled down his spine, but it didn't register on any higher plane. If she disliked him it was her problem, not his.

Her voice, even her voice was quiet and polite, as if she would rather not be speaking to him at all. He narrowed the bright, almond eyes imperceptably but made no mention, ignoring the thoughts that reflected the other half of himself who was feeling indignant and irritated. He, the calmer side of Amorte was in control, and if she wasn't interested then she wasn't interested.

"Estelle. Nice name." He said, shaking her hand gently before it was snatched from his grasp and hidden out of sight behind crossed arms. There weren't much stronger ways to give 'f*ck off' vibes than this, short of saying it aloud.

He took a step back from her, a small frown tainting the edges of his well rehearsed smile, something that when he first met someone, he made sure was open, warm and friendly. Unless of course it was a Gryffindor first year, in which case it was some minor hex to out them in the hospital wing for an hour or two. Sometimes they really could get aggrivating.

He offered her the heavy, leatherbound book casually then his own sun deprived hands were slipped into the pockets of the black tailored trousers he wore. He had been out somewhere a lot smarter earlier this morning and he hadn't bothered to change afterward.

When no more conversation was forthcoming, he shrugged and turned away from her, throwing himself onto the sofa she had moved and propping one leg on a nearby coffee table, watching the fire crackle and spit in it's grate.

[tempestgrey]

Estelle sensed internal conflict as she studied this Amorte. His eyes were strange to her, but not in appearance...not really. Rather, she was thinking of the old cliché--how someone's eyes can reveal a thousand thoughts and words, like they are the pages of a book. Estelle could clearly see this withing Amorte's eyes. However, it was as if the book was written in a different language. One that she couldn't possibly decipher. It bothered her--she was so used to being able to read people quite easily, but this interesting fellow was simply difficult.

She was able to detect certain emotions from him as he stood there with what seemed like frustration or aggravation, but the more complex things she was usually able to pick up were just not there.
This bothered her.
She didn't move her eyes from his pale face as he handed her the leather-bound book. Oh, it was heavier than she expected--her arm dropped an inch as the weight shifted completely into her hand.
"Thanks," she said in a late response to the compliment he had given her several moments earlier. That was an unusual compliment indeed. Well, at least it was for her. She had never received any comment on her name before.

Estelle had expected more of a conversation that this. For some reason she couldn't quite place, male students seemed to love trying to speak to her. Maybe it was some sort of bet they all had going--who could get more than ten words out of the itty bitty shy girl? A surge of anger flowed through her, but she cooled quickly, knowing she was probably just being paranoid.
Maybe this boy had no interest. She stood still for a moment as she watched him take a seat by the fire.
Did she?
No, no that was silly. The only things that interested her were classes, homework, and literature, whether it be read or written by her own hand. Still, she couldn't help almost...wanting him to try to drive the conversation forward. But maybe if things went in the normal pattern and he did want to speak more, she wouldn't have this irrational desire. Yes, surely that was the case.
Still chilled, she walked slowly away from the bookcase and dropped to the rug in front of the calm, wonderfully warm fire. She flipped open the book and tried her best to soak in the words of the first page.
Nothing was registering. 'What could possibly be dominating my mind at the moment?' she thought sarcastically, then risked a glance over her shoulder at this confusing and slightly frustrating boy. She continued this pattern for a few minutes--try to read, look backward, try to read, look backward for a second longer than the last time...
Estelle knew she was being stupid in this awkward little situation, but she couldn't help sneaking glances in what she hoped was an inconspicuous way.

[amorte]

He could see her analysing him, making every attempt to understand his mind, but right now he didn’t even understand his own mind. It had seemed a crowded place for the last week or so, even though there was only himself in there. He attributed it to the fact that recently he had been in two minds about everything, nearly literally. Every thought he had was commentated on by another thought, locked somewhere away in his head that he had no control over at all, like it was doing the thinking about him.

And the things it did think couldn’t be called pleasant, or the things he thought, it was him after all, it must have just been another shade on his personality. Though it had been growing worse ever since he had branded the Dark Mark into his own flesh, leaving a searingly painful scar which drained all use from the very limb, leaving it weak and barely operable. He couldn’t even lift a coffee mug with it, which was awkward when you were trying to cast a spell and smoke, as he often was.

Her thanks were answered with a nod and a small smile, though he didn’t offer much more, it seemed she was both uninterested in conversation and flirting, the things that most girls resorted to in his presence, and he wasn’t about to force them onto her. So, settling comfortably in the sofa, he proceeded to warm up, heat away the chill that sleeping in the dungeons had brought.

He had been simply content to sit and watch the fire, occasionally feeling the chill of a gaze run across his skin, only whenever he turned the gaze had left him and been returned once more to the book. However, instead of looking away, he rested his head back a little into the sofa and watched the small woman with every sign of interest, even in the way she turned a page... or didn’t, more was the point. She had been focussed on the top half of that page for longer than was strictly necessary. He was content to watch her, feeling no embarrassment at the thought of her turning around to find him looking, indeed it was better than her turning around and him looking away guiltily, as though he had done something wrong.

Casually, he played with the long wand in his hands, turning it over and over between pale, soft fingers, it occasionally releasing a little spark or twinkle if he brushed it in just the right way or ran his hand along it. The wand itself was ageblackened, set with a silver snake which coiled along the length of it, imbedded in the wood so tightly it would be impossible to separate. It had passed through his family for generations, and he, as the older son, had been the one to inherit it.

[tempestgrey]

This was beginning to annoy Estelle. How dare she let a boy, some regular old boy, prevent her from concentrating on this book for which she had struggled with her own height...and a chair. Of course, he didn't seem to be regular at all, did he? No, he was intriguing in the way he seemed comfortable in not speaking to her.
That was yet another reason not to be bothered, though! He wasn't acknowledging her! If he were trying to speak with her, then she could justify her aggravating lack of concentration. However, she had no right to be distracted now. Ugh, just thinking about how she shouldn't be disconcerted was distracting!

Estelle forced the thoughts to the back of her mind and saw only the words on the page of the book. Saw them...read them... Nothing. No absorption whatsoever! She read the same words over and over, but they wouldn't make sense in her head. They were jumbled and completely misunderstood by her preoccupied mind. Could this be more frustrating?!

She slammed the book shut, tossed it aside, and spun around to face Amorte. Her anger was temporarily thrown off, though, when she saw that he seemed to already have been looking at her. The feelings snapped right back, though. She glared fiercely, trying to be as intimidating as she possibly could while being so small and, ultimately, less threatening than that black Defense Against the Dark Arts book.

It seemed that her constant shyness had retreated for the time being. She wondered how long it would last. Probably no longer than a few minutes, but that would surely be enough to get her point across.
...What exactly was her point, though? He had been staring at her! Yes, that was it. No, she couldn't use that--she had, after all, been glancing back at him in a way that would be considered rude, so she would be a hypocrite.
She ran a few excuses for her physical outburst through her crowded mind. This was wasting precious time.
"Why aren't you saying anything?!" she hissed without quite thinking it through.
Great, if she didn't seem crazy now, what would it take? She had just scorned this poor boy for not speaking. 'Intelligent move, Estelle. Very smooth.'

[amorte]

His blue and grey eyes rested on her, his pale hand absentmindedly brushing against the long scar that spread from brow to cheek on his left eye, feeling the pale silver sliver gently, as if it still caused pain, though truthfully it was completely numb, his nerves too damaged to give any hint on what was happening in that area anymore.

A faint smile of amusement decorated his pale lips as he watched her re-read, over and over again without really paying the paper any attention. He knew he was getting to her, he only had to keep looking for it to really bother her. And for some reason, he really wanted to.

He was used to girls who leapt on his attention like love starved puppies, flirting back just as heavily as he flirted with them and then turning upset when they realised that he really didn’t want their love, just their attention. And now someone was trying to drive him away, it became a challenge, a new approach which meant he was all the more interested. If she had pounced on him like some did he would have smiled and joked with her, only to barely pay her any attention when the lastest bit of fluff came along, this was so much more interesting to him.

His smile only widened when she slammed the book shut, tossing it to the side as if it had done her some personal affront. The amused look clung to his face as she snapped around at him with fury written on ever feature.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were reading... I wouldn’t want to –distract- you now.” That smile could quickly get annoying, it was one that said ‘I know what you are thinking, and you aren’t thinking about the things you should be thinking about. You, despite your best efforts, are thinking about me. And I know it.’

“Would you prefer me to talk to you then?”

[tempestgrey]

Oh, good. Her irritation amused Amorte. If there was any way to make Estelle very angry very quickly, it was to find entertainment in her anger. His smile lit a fire in her eyes that she hoped was really apparent. Maybe, if he was a decent person, he would see that she was not just messing around and back off.

Right, he didn't want to distract her. She knew better--he knew his silence was bothering her and only stayed that way as to get her sidetracked. Or was that conclusion just a product of paranoia? Estelle could never tell anymore... But his arrogant smile told her that he had a high opinion of himself and most likely did, in fact, know that his very presence distracted her.

His question then threw her off. Well, did she actually want to talk to him? Oh, this was thin ice she was treading on. She already seemed slightly unstable because of her outburst. If she told him now that she didn't want to talk to him just moments after complaining that he wasn't talking, she would go right from "unstable" straight into downright "insane." And if the only reason she would want him to speak to her is that he wasn't speaking to her, would she even want to converse with him once the talking began? The time she needed to think was greater than the time she had.

To pass a short amount of time before she had to respond, she picked up the book and took her time getting up off of the floor. She then proceeded to brush imaginary dust off the cover of the book. Slowly, she ambled over to the small sofa on which Amorte rested and perched herself on the arm furthest from him.

She stared into the fire, forgetting about taking too long of a time to reply. This interaction was difficult and felt so...slow. The feeling was somewhat like that of trying to run while one's legs are submerged entirely in water. You could move forward, just very slowly, at a frustrating pace, and while using a lot of energy. It was unusual for Estelle, and she rather disliked the irritating sensations.
She hugged the book to her chest and, after a deep breath, looked over at Amorte. Now was as good a time as any to practice getting over her shyness.
"I...would prefer that, yes."