Morning in the library.. { Open }

[advantchild]

I remember black skies
And lightning all around me...
I remembered each flash
As time began to burn,
Like a startling sign
The feint had finally found me...
And your voice was all I heard
That I get what I deserve...

Tossing and turning in bed, sweat running down his brow as his brow furrowed and his eyes shifted under his lids. The obligatory dream caused the young man to thrash about in the bed, laying in his boxer shorts half covered, his hand clenched the thin blanket as his body tensed. The dream? His first love, the one that died at the hand of a malevolent wizard. Tortured to death at the use of the Cruciatus Curse before his very eyes, the man was instantly apprehended by the ministry, but not before the death of a loved one.

The death, was horrid. The curse caused the young mans body to contort and tense to the point where his mussels nearly ripped the skin above. Thomas could hear his teeth grinding, and he was bound, tied up by magic ropes spewed by the dark wizards wand. For what reason was this trespass conducted? His first and only boyfriend was the son of a wizard on the wizmagot. Who in turn sentenced the wizards faulty leader to Azkaban Prison, thus spurring a revolt of revenge on the children of the ones who cast the judgment.

The whole thing was a terrible three week ordeal. But the death of Tom's boyfriend, was a pain that lasted on for over a year. If he had been quicker with his wand he could have done something, or he could have distracted the wicked man and let Josh make it to safety. Now he was haunted by the dreams, and the plague of thoughts that surrounded the whole situation. The result? The loss of sleep, and nightmares that induced it.

So give me reason,
To prove me wrong,
To wash this memory clean...
Let the thoughts cross
The distance in your eyes
Give me reason
To fill this hole
Ignite the space between
Let it be enough to reach the truth and lies
Across this new divide...

Tom sat bolt upright. His messy brown hair matted to his forehead and his eyes watering with fresh tears. His chest heaving and his hands still clenching the blankets. Everyone in his room was still sleeping, looking out the window he could tell it was early morning, thus it was early enough to make it to the library before the other students could. Studying was something that would and could keep his mind off the wicked dreams that plagued him of late.

Taking a brief bath, and shivering violently at the cold water he used, instead of waiting for warmer water. However the cold water shocked his system enough to distract his thoughts. Throwing jeans and a t-shirt on he left the Ravenclaw common room and made his way to the library, backpack slung over his shoulder and thoughts swirling on the nights dream again.

Passing through the halls without incident he made it to the library and entered. Instantly he took in the musky smell of the leather bound books, and sighing with anticipation, he found the first book he could think of.. Wonderful tails, and daring Tribulations of the Wizarding World. and found a seat and began to read..

[Ayla Schultz]

As normally for this time of a day, the gigantic room was filled with nothing but that familiar atmosphere, the uncomfortable silence that could only match the appearance and decoration of the room more than well. The little light that managed to sneak in through the windows was barely enough to light the entire area, and left the shadows in the corners and those behind and in between the many bookshelves unharmed. The setting could have been somewhat peaceful, or perhaps the tiniest bit romantic if one was into creepy shadows dancing in the small fires of the few candles, but with just half of the brain working properly, a definite lack of sleep, and having watched a bit too much thrillers, it was a place that could give someone creeps if you paid too much attention to it.

Letting a soft sigh escape her lips, the young witch ran a tired hand through her strangely colored locks, and then twirled a strand of bright pink around the tip of a delicate finger. With her other hand, she gently taped the end of a silver colored pen against the hard surface of the wooden table. The soft ticking noise rang through the silent room, causing it to sound far louder than it really was. It may have been considered annoying, but with nobody else here to disturb the peace, who gave a f*ck? Ayla chewed gently on her lower-lip, the small silver ring in the right corner of her mouth moving slightly with every movement her muscles made, while she simply stared at the still blank piece of parchment that laid on the table in front of her, appearing to be deep in thought.

It had been over three weeks since she’d written anyone, and had only been receiving letters from a far too worried friend and a concerned grandmother. Both wrote often, about twice a week if it was possible, describing every little event in the smallest detail imaginable with enthusiasm, and all they ever got in return was a short message which always held the same text, somewhere along the lines of; ‘I’m doing fine. School’s getting tough, but I’ll manage. Hope to see you soon.’. Of course, that was a shorter version of the actual finish though. But still, simply the fact that she was just far too lazy to take the time to actually tell them what was going on around here in this God-forsaken place, which could only take about twenty minutes at most, made her feel worse than anyone could probably think she would.

Carefully, Ayla shoved the blank paper aside to reveal another piece of parchment. This one, however, wasn’t like the other. This was the last letter she’d received. The fifteen year old witch grumbled quietly to herself, in minor frustration, as she reread it for what seemed the millionth time.

Dear Ayla,

It has been a while since we’ve heard from you.
How are you doing, dear?
Things haven’t changed much around here, but even after three years it is still hard to get used to not having you around. We miss you, sweetie.
Your brother is recovering well, so there is no need to worry around him. The pain isn’t as bad as before, he says, and he’s already trying to escape from the hospital beds and complaining nonstop about how bad the food is. You know him, Ayla. He will be fine.
How is school going? Can you surprise us with another good mark? Did you get a boyfriend yet?

Please write us back soon, dear.

Your loving grandmother.

A rough translation of it all:

Dear Ayla,

Don’t let us wait for so long, write more often.
Keep us updated.
Stop the annoying ‘How’s Mike doing?’, and tell a bit more about what the hell is going on over there.
Don’t you dare let us down.
No sex before marriage.

Come on, write!

Your granny.

Rolling her eyes lightly to herself at the last comment in the letter, Ayla forced her nearly dead brain-cells to once again focus on a decent reply. She had to at least write something. And this time, it couldn’t be just a short, mindless note. Letting out a quiet groan, the young girl quickly wrote a ‘Dear granny,’ at the top of the parchment in a curvy, feminine handwriting. There, that was a start. The rest, however, would be a bit of a problem.

[advantchild]

The window he elected to sit by, let in enough light to saturate his large leather bound tome. Although the pages were dry and threatened to crumble in the wake of turning them, they survived his usage even though he feared the sunlight would cause them them to vanish into a fine dust. The library was empty save one girl who sat quietly a few dozen paces away from him.. Twirling her hair around a finger, nay, twirling her stand of pink hair. Tom had a hard time over looking that fact. A sudden wash of admiration swept over him, she was bold enough to color her hair in the abstract, he had to like her for that.

The distraction caused him to loose his place in the small text.. God, there had to be at least a thousand lines per page, and he forgot to bring a book mark.. No, he had one in his back pack. He thought suddenly with a flash of his crooked smile. Leaning over in his chair in a threatening manor that would be saved for a mild mannered dare devil, the event? Chair tipping. Causing a minor stir of clamor in his small little corner of the vacant library world he cursed under his breath in a manor that would cause the librarian to swoop down on him in a heart beat, but by the look of it she was most likely asleep still. His chair gave a sigh as he raised one leg up to dig at the bottom of his pack, then, the chair gave out. Falling on the floor, sending the chair into the wall to his right, and him on top of the pack and his nose dangerously close to the floor. "Damn, dirty rat..." He grumbled several more curse words that would cause his grandmother to wash his mouth out with soap if she heard.

With a huge sigh he sat up on his knees and blushed 10 shades of red and he rolled his eyes.

[Ayla Schultz]

There was a quiet crack that broke the nearly unbearable silence in the library, causing Ayla to look up from her miserable attempt of writing a letter that wouldn’t worry anyone at home. Lowering a delicate hand from it’s position underneath her head, she turned to let her blue eyes search for the source of the sound. Right there, on the other side of the long row of tables, sat an older boy, bending over to reach for something she was unable to see. The chair was cracking dangerously underneath his weight, which now seemed spread over only three legs. Ayla had to force herself to hold back the slightest of smirks as she curiously kept her eyes on the far too predicable scenario. There was no need to be a genius to already know to outcome, and the young girl debated with herself whether to shout out and maybe be still in time to send a warning, or just keep her mouth shut and burst out laughing once that boy was laying on the ground in pain or shock.

Straightening her position, the female placed the silver pen on the hard, ancient table before placing both hand firmly on the wood, ready to push herself up to a standing position in needed. The older boy simply continued to bend over in his chair, almost like he couldn’t see what was obviously going to happen coming. God, was he that stupid?

“Hey, wat—”

Before Ayla could manage to force out the small sentence completely, the scene had already started playing, following the exact lines that were laid out for this all. The chair gave one last crack, and then finally, collapsed. The unknown boy was sent flying forward, landing with a sharp thud on the ground, or so it seemed, and the chair was launched back into a random wall. It wasn’t long before the first curse words scattered through the large room. For a short moment, Ayla only blinked. One corner of her mouth twitched horribly as she tried to keep a straight face. No matter that she knew that one could so easily get hurt with such things, and the fact that she’d tried to warn him not a second ago, she had to admit it was an amusing thing to watch. So obviously, only the shortest amount of time had to pass before the young girl finally burst out laughing. Quickly, she raised one hand to cover her mouth, to try to restrain her soft chuckles.

Shaking her head lightly, Ayla pushed herself up to a standing position, shoving away her own chair, and walked over to the boy with small, yet quick steps. As she came closer, she got a better view of the scene. The oh-so-lucky student was just pushing himself off of something. It was dark colored, medium sized. A bag? Sure, whatever. Casually, she shoved her hands in the deep pockets of her gray sweat pants as she walked, her hips moving along with every step she made.

She gave another soft chuckle. “Yeah, good morning to you too.” she said when her laughter faded away, replaced by just an innocent grin on her pinkish lips. Coming to a stop not far from the young man, she held out her hand. “Are you okay?”

[advantchild]

There came a soft chuckle. “Yeah, good morning to you too.” Thomas' eyes narrowed as he looked up to see the girl with the wild hair offer her hand. “Are you okay?” She asked him, as he accepted the offered hand and was helped to his feet. He dusted off his knees and inspected for any bruising, feeling no pain save for his own embarrassment he offered a weak crooked smile and spoke softly in contrast to his ranting cursing form only moments ago.

"I guess I'm all O.k, save for the bruise on my ego." He said walking over to pick up his now broken chair. Pulling out his wand he muttered, "Repario"

[/b] and the broken limb was re-affixed to the the chair and he sat it back in place before the librarian would have a stroke.

Turning back to the girl he smiled, and offered a hand. "Tom Rackman, 7th year Ravenclaw. I guess I made your day, not many students offer a clown act in the library.." He said bruising his own ego once more, as his cheeks reddened once more. "So, to whom do I owe the honor of saving my metaphorical life per say?" He widened his crooked smile as he sat down and slipped his book mark, that was trudged up from the very bottom of his back pack, one book mark that caused all the dramatics.

[/center]

[/color]

[Ayla Schultz]

Ayla's innocent grin slowly faded into a teasing smirk when she caught a glimpse of the expression on the boy’s face. Again, she had to fight with all her might not to break down in laughter again. She softly bit down on her lower-lip. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment she had feared that approaching him had been her first mistake of the day, but the unfamiliar boy took a hold of her hand nonetheless. At least the was a good sign. As soon as the man was back on his feet, Ayla slipped her hand away from his and crossed her arms underneath her bosom. She looked over him curiously while he moved.

‘I guess I’m all okay, save for the bruise on my ego.’ He said, his voice kind. One corner of her mouth perked up in a half smile in a response to the small statement. Of course, ego. Always the ego. Well, he was lucky, to say the least. She was the only one here, and they didn’t know each other, were complete strangers to be more exact, so he shouldn’t be too worried. It wasn’t like the whole library was filled with annoying little first years and friends. The boy moved quietly to the chair, which laid brokenly in a dark corner near a wall, one leg broken off and completely destroyed, it seemed. She swore, she would have almost felt sorry for that poor little piece of furniture if there was nothing better to do. Repairing the chair quickly, the boy walked back over to her. He offered a hand with a gentle smile.

‘Tom Rackman, seventh year Ravenclaw.’ The student introduced himself politely. ‘I guess I made your day, not many students offer a clown act in the library.’ His dark brown hair matched the color of his eyes, which was a lighter shade of a different brown and set perfectly in his kind face. His skin wasn’t the usual pale color you often saw around here, in this d*mned castle, but a nicely colored tan. All together, a pretty handsome guy she had to admit to herself. But there were two flaws. Too old. Too tall. Well, not too tall, but tall enough to force her to look up at him, with her 5’4. D*mn. ‘So, to whom do I owe the honor of saving my metaphorical life per say?’ Tom asked.

Returning the kind smile with one of her own sweet, yet rebellious and mysterious grins, Ayla took his hand to firmly shake it. “Just Ayla.” Unlike him, the young witch never went along with a long introduction. All people needed to know was her first name; Ayla. And if they longed for it, perhaps her age, but no more. Slowly releasing his hand, she raised her own to brush back her dark locks, mixing the stands of pink in with the superior navy. Again, she flashed a small smile. “And don’t worry, man. I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

[advantchild]

.....“And don’t worry, man. I’ll keep my mouth shut.” She said a he closed his book with the bright acid green book mark in it. The force of the huge tome caused a sudden up draft of dust into the air.. 'Damn..' He coughed swatting the air before him. For a Ravenclaw he was prone to accident, although his outward appearance/actions would suggest he was dim, he was a playfully intelligent person. He smiled again looking at her and asked; "Well, just Ayla.. What has you up so early in the most boring place in the school? Unless you like the smell of leather.. Do you? Cus thats not a bad thing or anything.." He covered mouth playfully with his free hand and smiled. "Sometimes I tend to ramble." He said lowering his hand down.

Not being really a sociable person to begin with. Tom was a really shy guy, never one to speak up, he talked in a soft tone of voice. Then if confronted with a conversation he would embarrass himself by over talking. As he was doing now, and cause his face to redden. As it was now. Laughing at himself he shook his head and commented on his actions. "You can stop me at any time, sorry buy the way."

(sorry its short.. storming out and want to shut my laptop down.)

[Ayla Schultz]

(OOC: It's cool. No worries.)

As she spoke, Tom carefully attempted to close the far too large book without accidentally crumbling the dry, ancient, yellow papers and binding. The book itself looked like it could give it’s last breath at any possible moment, the cover’s color browned by age and covered with a small layer of still remaining dust. That was one bad thing about castles such as these; everything was so old, too old. That same moment, this was proven with something that probably happened about every day. Small amounts of dust sneaked out from in between the many pages and were launched in the air, forming one gigantic cloud of ancient dust and flakes. Honestly, she didn’t want to know what it was, and how old it was. A clear ‘No, thank you.’. Ayla held her breath silently for a brief moment while in the meantime, Tom coughed uncomfortably.

As soon as he had caught his breath, he spoke in a soft voice, one that seemed to be his usual. ‘Well, just Ayla...’ he began. Ayla quirked an eyebrow, yet smirked teasingly. ‘What has you up so early in the most boring place in the school?’ he asked. For a moment, the young witch bit down softly on her lower-lip, glancing away when the question was asked. However, and she was actually kind of grateful for that, he moved on before she could answer. ‘Unless you like the smell of leather... Do you? ‘Cause that’s not a bad thing or anything...’ he trailed off. ‘Sometimes I tend to ramble. You can stop me at any time, sorry by the way.’

Ayla quickly looked back up at the handsome boy, her eyes widened slightly and one eyebrow, once again, raised. If someone was told to define the ‘What-the-f*ck-expression’, this was what it would look like, no doubt. Unless she liked the smell of leather...? Ok... Quickly shaking the strange comment off, Ayla took one hand, the one that had been hidden in her pocket, and gestured it towards him. She shook her head slightly and a small smile crossed her face. She could live through the rambling thing. It couldn’t be that bad, right? Apart from that, it was actually a good thing. She herself wasn’t a big fan of talking, so if he would take the lead in that part, it would be great. Thank God.

“Believe me, for the smell of leather you’ll have a bigger chance of finding me at the Quidditch Pitch.” Ayla said quietly, her lips parting slightly and revealing her teeth in something close to a grin. At least that was out of the way now. Up to the next. This one however, would be a bit harder to answer. What brought her here, so early? That wasn’t the thing she enjoyed explaining the most. It wasn’t like she’d just let her heart out and tell the exact reason why she was up so early. Unfortunately, the slight discomfort was showing in her expression. She glanced away while debating over an answer, and her hands quickly found their way into the warm pockets again. Her shoulders hung slightly, and she lowered her head slightly. However, she tried to cover it up well by turning to eye him again with half a smile.

“Well, I couldn’t sleep...” she said. Lifting one hand, she rubbed the back of her head awkwardly. “So I sneaked out and headed here because I still had to do something. It’s too crowded in the middle of the day to actually concentrate, so...” she chuckled softly. And honestly, it was. Ayla had never been the kind of person to feel comfortable in such a huge crowd, people looking down at her or glaring. No, peace and quiet. Far better.

“What the hell brings you here so early, is I may ask?” she asked.

[advantchild]

The memories of the dreams flooded him once more at the single moment of remembrance. Setting there quietly for all but several seconds he was washed in over a weeks worth of fresh sorrow. The love he had only just found taken away by a madman out for revenge, and he himself bound to watch. Thomas's brow furrowed in a uncharacteristically pained expression that he had to fight from allowing to envelop his whole features. His heart slowed and the pain in the pit of his stomach flipped and flopped as the scene unfolded in his head at the last moments of Josh's life passes anew before the back of his eyes.

Taking a sharp breath, noticing he had not replied, in what felt like a week, but really was only a passing of seconds. He shook his head and smiled weakly, instantly regarded her question “What the hell brings you here so early, if I may ask?” with the same playful mantra as he had been using with her. Only his voice was shaky and his eyes watered at the edge.

"I have been having bad dreams lately, the same nightmare has been haunting me for the last 6 months." He said with a regard of avoidance to the general area of the dream. After he was rescued, he spent most of his time avoiding talking about the incident, even to the ministry officials and his family. But he was here now, in the dark and musty library talking to Ayla, so he opened up enough to let some of the pain leak out into the open.. "My boyfriend was killed, and I keep reliving the night over and over.. I saw it happen." He said simply. A weak smile on his lips, as the pressure in his stomach lessened he watched for the reaction he would have assumed from her, maybe annoyance? This was something he was sure she was not expecting, but, he was not one to lie.

[Ayla Schultz]

Ayla watched the boy curiously as time passed, tilting her head slightly to the side, like a little child did when not understanding something, while his expression slowly began to change. The kind, welcoming smile fell bit by bit, the corners of his mouth slowly traveling from their original position. But it wasn’t only the odd look on his face, the change of the stance of his body was far too obvious to miss as well. However, these things weren’t what caught her attention at first. It was the look in his eyes, which flashed away for a short moment, the moment the question was asked. The tiniest glister told her enough, the small amount of water that was gathering oh-so-slowly. Bad question. She had to admit, this was a bit strange. It confused her, to say the least. What was there so bad, an answer to this question, that could cause someone to be in such an intense pain? It was in fact obvious, or just easy to see for her, that he was in pain. She knew that look. Eyes were the soul’s mirror. They never lied.

The answer as to why, was quickly given when he finally spoke up, and that exact time, Ayla fell silent. It was her who looked away this time, staring down at the floor while swallowing roughly at the lump that was forming in her throat. F*ck. How the hell he could cover this all up with a simply smile was one big question-mark. Just... F*ck. Losing someone, especially someone you loved, like his boyfriend in this matter, was one hell of a thing. Too big of a thing for Ayla to be disappointed that he was mentioning the fact that he’d had a relationship with another boy. Normally she would be, but it didn’t matter now.

It took her a short moment to gather herself again and to finally speak. “Gosh, I’m sorry...” she said quietly. Carefully, she took one hand from her pocket to brush back her dark, strangely colored hair; a habit. Honestly, she didn’t know how to response to this, whether to go with it or avoid speaking about it the rest of the time they’d spend together. The last option was what she would do most of the time, since she was bad with dealing with it as well. But, this boy... Ayla shifted uncomfortably on her feet while she thought. Sighing slightly, she finally gave in. “Look, man, I know you hardly know me, but...” she spoke quietly, her expression softening. She eyed him with a comforting look. “Do you want to talk about it?” she asked. The young witch shrugged. “I don’t know, but sometimes that helps... Letting it build up inside is never a good thing.”

Really, it wasn’t. Letting it build up without any form of expression the pain one felt inside would drive that person mad, in more ways than one. And sometimes, when they did finally express it, they did it in a bad way. No, talking, writing, drawing, jogging, or simply playing guitar were still the best ways, for her at least. Anything but that...

[advantchild]

Taking a deep breath of the thick library air, his unofficial home away from home. As natural as that would be for a Ravenclaw, the fact still remained he was more comfortable being around the books as the simple fact they were always there for you. They were always there and they would not betray you in the end. Not only that, Tom knew the best qualities of the quiet were, one and only, the quiet. Not withstanding, he eyed the girl standing before him. Also contemplating the best way to explain himself.

Reliving the events of that day, was and will always be the thing he could not withstand. But, what the colorful haired girl said was true. Letting it build up inside for the last year and a half. Yes it caused him to refrain from a more social life, and yes he lost a fair amount of sleep. Still setting in his repaired seat he shifted uncomfortably and thought of the ramifications of opening up to a stranger. But the softness in her eyes persuaded him to talk about that night for the first time.

" I never thought of myself as being gay. I am, and always will be Thomas Rackham, in mind body and soul, no matter who I fall in love with. But, I fell in love with a boy I met in my early 5th year here. Josh was just as quiet as I was, and a Gryffindor, not unlikely for a Ravenclaw to find something in common, he was proud of his heritage, he was pure blooded, where, I'm a half blood. He was actually brave and I am book smart. The differences were few, but, we met in the library, the same place Im setting now, and he was across the room pulling a book off the shelf, and walking across to set behind me."

Tom took a deep breath and wiped a tear from his eye and hoped he was not boring Ayla with the story..
" From that moment, seeing him walk past me with a book that was equally bigger than he was, as it was thick. I laughed at him, and he smiled at me and shrugged. From behind me, as I dismissed the first contact with a blush and worked on my homework, he 'pssst'ed me several times before I acknowledged that he was trying to get my attention. He was setting behind me at the next table with the open tome, with a totally dubious look. He really did not know what he was getting himself into. But, he wanted to borrow some parchment, as I handed it to him, he slipped me a folded piece in the process, and looked away." He paused.

"I opened the note once I sat back down and I will always remember the few words.. 'I think your cute!' Sprawled out in untidy handwriting. I blushed, and smiled as I tried to focus on where I was in my book. I refused to write anything back, and sat quietly the rest of the time I was in the library until I ran into him in the hallways. Josh was very forthcoming in his attraction to me, but after a few weeks of taking long walks and talking about home, and other things, I found myself attracted to him."

Talking about this caused his chest to swell and hurt. He sniffed back some tears and smiled weakly, refusing to let himself break down to a stranger. "On break, we both came out to our families, thus causing a minor sir in each of our own personal worlds. That being short lived we continued out courtship during the break until we found ourselves walking down the streets of London. Josh's father was a member of the Wizengamot, and the one final vote to throw the wife of a insane wizard into Azkaban. A huge mistake when the man knew all the proceedings as it was open to the public. Somehow he found out who the family was of the wizard who cast the final guilty vote. Then he found us walking the streets."

He paused, his jaw set tight as he turned to look out the window, now is where the story grows hard. Toms chest heaved as a lone tear ran down his cheek. In a moment of awkwardness he shifted his weight in the chair and noted how high he sun was in the sky, more people would be getting up soon, so he should continue.

"O.K... Here is the hard part.." He started, "It happened to fast, we were both knocked out from behind. If Josh could have seen his attacker he would have won any wizards duel in a heart beat." Tom stated proudly. "We were woke up in a dark cave somewhere, I could see Josh laying on the ground.. Twisting in pain.. I could not move, I wanted to help him, I tired to cry out but I was under a hex, my mouth would not open all I could do was watch, and cry. I can still see the blood leaking from his ripping skin as the mad man kept using the Cruciatus Curse, Josh's teeth were grinding and breaking.." He stopped, and nearly got sick.

"Finally Josh stopped fighting back, he looked over at me and smiled.. then.. he said he loved me and died."

Tears ran down his face as he said those words, shaking his head he went on to finish his story, "Before the man could do the same to me, several wizards appeared in the cave, and stunned the mad man, and set me free. I was taken to St. Mungos to be checked out and questioned my ministry officials, Josh was dead, and I was alive. I should have died that night and should have died by his side, because, I never had the chance to say I loved him back." He paused. "Joshes mother hugged me and wept until his father took her away and hugged me and apologized. My parents finally showed and took me home. From that moment on, I never said another word about what happened to anyone, except you."

(( Hope this is not overkill, but had to tell the story as I had planned for Tom.. made me cry lol ))

[Ayla Schultz]

While the young man spoke, all Ayla did was listen silently, every so often nodding in understanding and looking at his face to try and read his expression. She shifted in her seat with slight discomfort, the chair that she’d pulled out somewhere in the middle of the story. She was far too focused on the story to have any sense of time. She raised one leg to cross it over the other, and leaned back to sit in the famous ‘Just-chilling-position’, with one arm resting under her bosom, the hand of her other near her face, playing with a stand of navy hair. The words that left his mouth were hurting, she could see it, and not only because of the tears hidden in his eyes, about to fall down at any given moment. His chest was heaving in an odd way, nowhere near it did when sighing normally, or panting. It was the way someone tried to easy away the familiar intense pain in the chest. The strange, stinging feeling.

However, even though it was one hell of a story, Ayla found herself grinning and smiling slightly at some part. The beginning, and the attraction part. That was just plain sweet, no if’s, but’s or and’s about it. Why the hell should she care, or hate that person, if they were gay or bisexual? Exactly. There was no reason at all.

Finally, as the story continued, it because too much for Tom. The tears that he’d been trying to fight back found their way down his tanned cheeks, leaving trails of salty moisture that glistered in the sunrays shining through the nearest window. No. F*ck. Seeing people cry never did anything good with her. She’d start crying as well. But not this time, she couldn’t. The story was hurtful, even for audience, and the way he told it would have made anybody recognize the pain of losing somebody. Carefully, she sat back to an up-right position, and then leaned forth to rest her elbows on her knees. As expected, small tears were beginning to gather in her own eyes as well. F*ck.

“I know what it’s like to loose someone you love...” Ayla said quietly, her voice lowering and her eyes darting away. She sighed, and after a good five seconds gathered enough of herself to eye him again. She had a stern, hard look in her eyes. “They say that time heals all wounds. But, let me tell you something. That. Is. Bull-shit.” she said, her eyes not breaking away from his. “The only thing you can do for Josh, and yourself, is trying to live in a way that would make him proud...”

“You know, Josh doesn’t want you to be like this.” she stated. That wasn’t a hard thing to tell. He loved Tom, didn’t he? She was sure. “I bet you, he’s up there right now, watching, and thinking; ‘No, Tom! Smile!’.” A soft, small smile finally snuck back upon her pinkish lips as she gestured upwards with a gentle hand. After, Ayla carefully moved her hand to his face with an extreme slowness, so if he desired, he could move it away. She wiped away a tear, and grinned.

A few more seconds passed, and the both of them were silent. This was hard to talk about, and not only because the subject was painful. This was one of those ‘personal subjects’, where everyone had a different opinion. Did this not keep the young witch from continuing, however. “The fact that someone died, doesn’t mean that they’re gone.” she said. “Look, I don’t know him, and I don’t really know you, but I am a hundred percent sure that he wants you to continue life with a smile on your face. And you shouldn’t have died that night. Josh shouldn’t have died that night. But, what happened, happened. However, he’s glad that you didn’t die as well. He knows you love him. And if you don’t believe me, you can still tell him. Right here, right now.”

“He’s not gone, Tom.” Ayla smiled comfortingly and reached out to tap his shoulder gently with a single finger. “He’s the beautiful little angel sitting on your shoulder.”

[advantchild]

Thomas' internal working started to kick back in, and a nervous smile came across his face as he raised a hand to wipe the remaining tears from his face, and cheek lightly brushing her hand away, in a passive move. Using the palm of his hands he rubbed his eyes and took a quiet deep breath. His eyes searching hers, he had exposed himself emotionally to a total stranger who somehow was moved by his story, sharing his pain in this moment of weakness on his part, his embarrassment reddened his cheeks, as he looked at his knee, "I have understood the reasons I did not die that night, the whole 'not meant to be' and 'everything happens for a reason'-" He said, raising his head to look passively into her eyes again. "- But he was my first love, how is that fair? How do you move on from your first love without closure." He said lowly.

Stooping over to pull something from his backpack, he sat up holing two quills. "Thirsty?" He asked taking his wand and tapping them twice and uttered the spell, "Verriverto *" and the quills turned into goblets. Then reaching back into his bag he pulled out a bottle of pumpkin juice and filled the goblets. "I do know he would have wanted me to live, just living on is hard." He said dryly as he took a drink of his goblets contents.

(( * I could not find how to spell that anywhere, its the spell from the COS movie when Professor McGonagall turned Ron's rat into a goblet.. :/))

[Ayla Schultz]

Quickly, Ayla retreated her hand when he moved his to push it away, her eyes darting down for a moment. Had that been a wrong action? Perhaps. He didn’t seem too happy with it, either way. Oops. Her thoughts were immediately driven away when his eyes caught her attention again, looking for hers. But there was something else she’d noticed before that. His lips. The corners of his mouth were perking up to form the smallest of smiles. An awkward smile, but definitely a smile. She responded to it with one of her own soft ones. That was a good sign, wasn’t it?

Once again, he moved, but she didn’t pay too much attention to it this time, however. She was far too busy thinking of a reply. Yes, she knew that living on was hard at times, from personal experience, but trying to form a decent response was difficult. In her opinion, he shouldn’t let it go, like many other people would tell him to do. He shouldn’t forget Josh, even if he’d be able to. But he should keep on loving life, and trying. Trying for him.

As her thoughts continued to wander, her eyes darted around the room, from the many bookcases, to the yellow-brownish walls, from the many empty tables, to the light blue sneakers on her feet. Finally, her eyes rested on one spot, the unfamiliar goblet, her head tilted to the side confusedly. Oh, well. She reached for it quickly, though trying not to look too rude, and brought the cup to her soft lips to take a sip. She smiled. “Thank you...”

Ayla shook her head lightly to herself, sighing and moving the cup down to rest it in her lap, keeping her hands firmly around it. “How do you move on?” she repeated his question thoughtfully. Her smiled faded slightly. “That’s one question I cannot answer.” And she couldn’t. It was different for everyone. The only thing she could do was try to give good advise. “You have to find a way to live on yourself, and all we can do is try to push you in the right direction.” she said. “Live in a way to honor him...”

“Did you have a chance to let it all out? Scream, cry, I don’t know...” Ayla shrugged. It seemed that this boy, in pain and kind of a wreck, had in fact let it all build up inside, unable to express it. And that was a bad thing. “Because you should let it all out.”

Taking another sip, she leaned back in her seat. “He’s watching over you, and protecting you.” she said quietly. “You know, I see life as a game. And I hate losing. So there’s no fucking way in hell that I’m going to let life beat me. That’s what’s keeping me alive. I got no angel on my shoulder, yet here I am, sitting here, talking to you, hoping that maybe one of my odd attempts to help is working, and failing miserably.”

[advantchild]

Taking a deep breath he let the mussels at the corners of his mouth lift. He rubbed his eyes with the butt of his hands and sighed out loud. Then shook his head. "You are helping, I tend to over think things way to much and I seem to have let myself fall to pieces in-front of a friendly stranger." She was right.. He never had the chance to let it all out, he was to prideful to let himself break down over anything, and he foolhardily keep a cool demeanor out of respect for not changing since Josh had left, because it would mean he was gone.

Looking around the library for any sign of life, he saw the grumpy old librarian come in and do a sweep of the isles. Most likely an attempt to see if they had been messy or just to see what they was doing. Eyeing the large leather bound that lay before him on his table. The light was pouring in through the windows now in beams of golden light, they would most likely be serving breakfast now or people would be making their way out to start the day and doing some early homework before classes. Once more he took a deep breath and began; "I feel guilty, now-" He half smiled, "I have seen someone in the halls I would actually like to start talking to.." He was smiling, but there was signs of guilt in his eyes. "I know it sound weird and this is all weird.. But I do want to move on but, it just comes down to Josh was my first love and how can anyone else stand up to him, when his last words were 'I love you'.. Its hard to want to move on, I know I have to. I just don't have the courage to ask the guy out.. and the ball is coming up.." He sighed and took a sip of his juice and swallowed hard.