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Post by Wolven Prince on Dec 7, 2010 23:28:37 GMT -5
The werewolf’s pupils shrunk once again, turning into tiny slits, similar to a werewolf’s. Wolven had stopped at the sound of Rome’s voice, spewing out insults at him. Couldn’t this ass just back off and let him leave without trying to be an arrogant prick about it? Apparently not, the stupid git just had to keep opening his worthless mouth.
“Ignore him!” His mind screamed rationally. Wolven laughed, not a normal laugh, but a calm and dangerous one. “You’re right. It is a polyjuice potion.” He answered, giving the brat the answer he wouldn’t expect. Wolven knew if he just denied it, it would land him in more and more trouble and with all the ears around here, it would lead to curiosity about why he had protected the vile like he had, and he couldn’t risk more people finding out, sworn to secrecy or not. Rumors still got out, and it was damaging his chances more and more and he couldn’t risk that.
Wolven’s hands twitched, and a small barely contained grown escaped his throat. Oh how Rome was pushing his buttons right now and to a very dangerous and suicidal level. “You have no idea how much I want to kill you right now, Kingston.” He growled, as he whirled around, blue eyes blazing in fury. Wolven was just itching to claw at the younger boy’s face, give him a nice scar as a reminder of just who… no what he was messing with. Wolven clenched his right hand into a fist, his nails slicing into his palm, creating yet another scar, as blood began to seep through his tightly clenched fingers, he couldn’t even feel it, much less care at the moment, as his anger was currently blinding him at the moment.
“I’m not a bitch, you asshole! And all you’re doing is insulting every female in the world! And that will come back to bite you in the ass, Kingston, girls don’t take nicely to being called bitches, you know.” Wolven responded to the other. The werewolf growled. “And yes I’m going back to my rowdy common room to cry my eyes out. Hah, you wish, you worthless asshole.” Wolven said with a roll of his eyes. Wolven couldn’t help but smirk, Rome was getting desperate, or so that’s what Wolven believed.
Wolven lifted up his left hand and pointed his wand at the Slytherin fifth year. "Stupefy!" He growled softly as he watched the spell rush toward Rome, not knowing Achille had already cast a tripping spell, he hadn't heard the other say anything, this was probably due to him being so focused on Rome.
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Post by Rome Kingston on Dec 8, 2010 0:39:20 GMT -5
Rome couldn’t stop now. His hand had tightened into a ball; had he not recently filed his nails down, they would have cut deeply into his skin. And yet the smirk never wavered; no, that’s a feat nigh impossible to do. He didn’t notice how Wolven’s eyes changed, nor would he have without someone pulling him out of the situation, forcing him to calm down, and telling him. But it didn’t matter; even if he did, he would have ignored them, or just walked away, considering it was quite obvious he had already won his game. But Rome wanted more.
He laughed. ”Oh, Wolven,” Rome said, sighing. ”Look, I know how amazing I am, but you really don’t have to use a polyjuice potion in order for me to go out with you. If you just ask, I might.” He gave Wolven a wink -- flirting was always a form of fallback for him, a way to just revert to a childish state and not have a care in the whole world. And childish it was, definitely. He smiled at Wolven, blowing him a kiss.
Rome’s smile quickly revered back to a smirk, snickering at Wolven’s following comment. ”Oh, I have an idea,” he replied, reaching for his wand. ”Let me guess. You want to kill me several times, rip out my vocal cords, and probably do so sort of defenestration.” He chuckled. ”Did I get it pretty well, or am I missing a few things?” He was done with this. It was about time Wolven snapped at him again, tried to hurt him like he had earlier. No more of this “I’m going to be the bigger man and walk away” shit. Rome wanted Wolven to just fucking hurt him.
Rome snorted as Wolven did finally snap again, yelling at him about how he was insulting every single female in the world. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Wolven, shaking his head. ”They’re useless,” he merely replied. ”I don’t care that I’m insulting every single female in the while world, because I’m merely stating the facts. The only reason they even exist is to be sex toys for men who are way too picky about where they want to stick their damn dick into and to provide offspring.” He shook his head. ”All they do, however, is whine and complain and bitch about shit that we males just try to breeze through. Fucking idiotic.”
Before he could do anything else, Achille’s spell hit him. He stumbled forward slightly, into the path of the Stupefy spell. He let out a loud ”Protego duo!” and made the proper motion, wincing slightly as the Stupefy hit the shield -- and promptly caused him to fall on the floor. He looked over at Achille just in time to see him put his wand away -- had he been the one to cast Flipendo? He stared at him for a moment, then looked away. He felt that Achille had been the one to cast it, but he wasn’t going to press it or hurt him because of it. Doing so would merely make the whole point of casting the spell to help him seem ridiculous. Instead, he turned back towards Wolven, sitting up -- painfully, since he had landed badly, but sitting up nevertheless -- and grinning.
”You…You can do better than that, Gryffie.”
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Post by Achille Desmarais on Dec 8, 2010 22:19:40 GMT -5
Achille opened his eyes and saw the two arguing quite loudly. Their heated words were causing his headache to come back slightly. Just great, he thought, completely bothered. It had been a bad choice to come here. He saw Rome turn and look toward him as he was standing up, and Achille's heart skipped a beat. Rome knew, of course.
Then, something odd happened, at least in Achille's eyes. Rome just turned back around. He didn't even acknowledge the half-hidden wand in Achille's hand. Achille knew he had seen it though, Rome wasn't imperceptive. But why hadn't he done anything about it? Either he was just waiting for the right time, or Achille was no where close to solving the puzzle that was Rome Kingston.
He wished he could just make the courtyard silent. His headache was creeping back and the noise was making it worse. He was certain that he knew a spell to cancel out the noise, but right now his mind was far too preoccupied. With his headache, with Rome... He sighed audibly and tried to relax himself, but he continued to watch the conflict between Rome and Wolven.
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Post by Wolven Prince on Dec 9, 2010 12:06:54 GMT -5
Wolven's eyes narrowed in rage. He was really getting annoyed by this Slytherin. He decided to ignore the other's flirting and focus on the other thing the Slytherin said. Oh this would be fun to answer. "You forgot the part were I rip out your heart, crush it in my hand, rip off your pretty little head, chop the rest of your body into tiny little pieces and leave your head and chopped up body in a deserted desert for the vultures." Wolven responded calmly.
He listened to Rome rant and rave about females, and frankly it unnerved him slightly, his own mother had disowned him at the age of 12, and had stopped being his mother at the tender age of six, but he didn't hate females for what his mother had done, which also made him wonder why Rome hated women so much, and after that thought he wondered why the hell he even gave a damn about this stupid fifth year Slytherin. "Tell me this then you immature prat. Do you hate females because of something one stupid woman did to you?" He questioned, he wasn't even sure why he had asked, curiosity he figured, and no he wasn't expecting an answer, he was just wondering what the other would do.
The werewolf was getting annoyed, well more than he was before. This whole situation was becoming repetitive and annoying. He'd rather be stuck as a uncontrollable werewolf for a week then be here and listen to Rome for another minute. He wanted it to stop. He wanted to Rome to shut up... An idea struck him at that very moment. Why in the hell hadn't he thought of that sooner!?
Wolven chuckled softly, he was pretty good at wordless spells, so that was a good thing. He was mediocre at best with wordless spells, as he only started them two years ago, and it's not like he could practice them during the summer either. Wolven lifted up his wand and pointed it at Rome. "Langlock!" He thought, as the spell fired toward Rome, and he hoped it would work, that way he could leave and not be gorged into another fight by the pompous Slytherin and if it backfired... then he'd be the moron with his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth, but at least no matter what happened, he'd be able to leave regardless of who had their tongue glued to their mouth.
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Post by Rome Kingston on Dec 9, 2010 23:10:38 GMT -5
Rome laughed at the amendments that Wolven made, standing up slowly. ”You think my head’s pretty?” he teased, smirking. ”Why, Wolven. I knew you played for both sides, but I wasn’t expecting you to be so open.” He kept his wand at his side, in case of any sort attack from someone; he wanted to be prepared. ”Anyway, about your proposal. Sounds fantastic, but I prefer dinner first.” He winked at Wolven, snickering. Oh, it was just too easy to get on Wolven’s nerves -- Rome was almost bored by the simplicity of it all. Sure, there was a bit of urgency when Wolven almost left, but now that time had past, he thought about the situation in a different light. Perhaps he could have just let Wolven go and, once the courtyard was relatively quiet again, he could have helped Achille to the infirmary or where ever.
Just thinking about that, though, gave him pause. He was planning on taking the fourth year to the infirmary? Hell, he was planning on helping someone in a way that could be traced back to him? There was something going on with him, and he didn’t like it. At all. His stomach churned at the thoughts, and he tried to hide his discomfort from Wolven. To show this discomfort would be to show weakness, and he couldn’t do that -- not now. And yet…he turned towards Achille once more, for whatever reason. His eyes lingered for a few moments, then he turned back to Wolven.
When Wolven asked him the question, though, Rome snarled. ”How about you keep out of my fucking business?” he replied harshly, unable to hide his emotions this time. People just didn’t know how to keep their curiosity silent, did they? If they would just shut up and not ask people questions about things they obviously took time not to talk about with them, things would be a lot easier. ”The reasons behind my goddamn misogyny isn’t your fucking problem, so you don’t need to hear about it.” It wasn’t too clear why Rome was a misogynist; first, one would look at the fact that his mother left and left his father in a state of turmoil and hurt beyond repair. Obviously, he wouldn’t trust women from that, but it wouldn’t account for the misogyny, necessarily. Perhaps it was that tied with the fact that he preferred guys that made him think that women weren’t useful for things other than to hurt men and to provide offspring. If one actually asked Rome, he wouldn’t be able to tell you why, exactly, he thought this way -- he just did. It made sense to him, and if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
As Wolven raised the wand towards Rome but said nothing, Rome figured he was trying to do a damn wordless spell. He had enough time to cast some sort of spell to defend himself, he believed, but…such an action would cause it to backfire and who knows whom it’ll hit. And…there was one person he didn’t want to take the risk for, although he would never admit it. He merely stood there, keeping in the path of the wordless spell that Wolven cast -- he was quite interested what spell the sixth year Gryffindor used.
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Post by Achille Desmarais on Dec 10, 2010 16:26:23 GMT -5
Achille stood up. He was tired of this. For some reason, Rome's flirting with Wolven really was bothering him. He had to make the most of his temporarily feeling better to make his way to the Ravenclaw tower without too much trouble. Unfortunately, Rome and Wolven were in his direct path out. He would have to go around them to escape them, sort of a catch 22.
Once he had stood up, he took a breath, trying to think of some way to get around the two without getting caught in the middle. He was surprised to see Kingston turn around. Achille met his gaze, at first somewhat angrily, until he saw... softness? in Rome's eyes. Achille was extremely confused. He did not appreciate this sudden attention from Rome, but in a way, he did appreciate it.
He was too curious to leave now, but necessity was calling. He could feel his symptoms returning at any moment. He stepped forward, slowly making his way around the pair, and when Rome snapped back his response, he bit his lip in uncertainty.
Suddenly, Wolven raised his wand, and Achille's heart leaped into his throat. He had no idea what was about to take place. He froze, and a look of genuine concern appeared on his face. For an instant, he imagined himself leaping before a shot of magic from Wolven's wand, and taking the spell. It was only a fanciful dream, though. He knew he was far too much of a coward to stand up for someone else. Also, not knowing what the spell was, he could end up feeling worse than he did right now.
He shut his eyes as he waited for Wolven to release the spell. He heard a voice saying, "Protego!" And not until after he had opened his eyes to see what was happening did he notice that the voice had been his own. His wand was out, and the words tasted sharp on his lips. He was not sure why he had done this. Tonight seemed full of him acting out of himself. First, casting that Flipendo, then this Protego.
He frowned at himself, then felt his worry solidifying into sickness, and all at once he felt his withdrawal symptoms coming back. He fell to the ground, on his hands and knees, and violently spewed up the small contents of his stomach. He was surprised to see that there was anything left. He spat onto the grass, and tears came to his eyes as he tried to imagine that the last 30 seconds had not taken place.
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Post by Wolven Prince on Dec 17, 2010 20:12:55 GMT -5
The werewolf rolled his eyes and smirked in satisfaction, he had gotten a reaction out of Rome, and that was all he had wanted from the other. At least he wasn’t denying it. Wolven heard the voice and blinked before he suddenly found himself getting hit with the spell he had caused and with his own tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. OK that pissed him off, until he realized just why had done that, sure not in the way he had planned but at least he could leave now, unless of course Rome was an asshole about it, well now that he couldn’t speak, the worthless worm would get bored of taunting someone who couldn’t speak, or so Wolven hoped.
Wolven had been hoping to simply walk out and leave, but no, the sound of someone throwing up and the horrible putrid smell of vomit reached his sensitive ears and nose, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust, and wished he was deaf, at least that way he wouldn’t have to worry about stupid little brats who protected the people who mocked them not even 20 minutes ago, and then make the oldest one who had the guts to stand up to the one mocking them, the bad guy. Like how Achille was making Wolven feel, not that the werewolf gave a shit about what the little Ravenclaw brat thought of him.
Slitted slate blue eyes blazed behind the wall of brown fringe, as the werewolf ignored Rome and Achille all together, and left the courtyard, he kept walking, turned the nearest corner and sighed silently, once he was out of the courtyard and all those other kids sights, he was going off to wherever the fucking hell he wanted to go! But! First the Hospital wing to get his blasted voice back! And then go wherever the hell he wanted, and he certainly wasn’t going to go back the Gryffindor common room where he nearly deafened by exploding snap cards or back to the courtyard were the annoying Slytherin prat and the sickly Ravenclaw were.
(Yep Wolven left, so now it’s only Achille and Rome.)
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Post by Rome Kingston on Dec 18, 2010 21:24:12 GMT -5
Rome waited for the spell that never hit. Suddenly, from behind him, he heard Achille yell out a shield spell from behind him, and watched as the nonverbal spell bounced off the barrier and hit Wolven -- causing his tongue to be glued to the roof of his mouth. Damn Gryffindor tried to use langlock on him! But it proved to not actually work, thanks to Achille. Which surprised him -- what purpose did Achille have in casting the protective spell to save mean old Rome from the unknown spell that was probably going to put him in his place once and for all? Hell, Rome didn’t even notice that Achille was trying for the exit -- which he and Wolven were so conveniently blocking.
He ignored Wolven now -- he couldn’t speak anymore, so he was boring, and Achille was much more interesting -- and turned around to thank him. Right in time for Achille to vomit out the remnants of his stomach. Rome made a face at the smell that came from it, but…he shook his head, biting his lip. The poor kid. What the hell had he been doing that caused him to be so sick? He was slightly aware of Wolven leaving, but he didn’t care too much about that. Had it been because Achille had cast that spell that he was sick? If it was, he felt kinda bad about it. Rome had deserved any sort of attack he had coming to him -- he didn’t deserve to be saved.
But now…he pointed his wand at Achille, murmuring a soft spell. If all went right, he wouldn’t be sick for a little longer. Long enough for Rome to be able to help him to the hospital wing. But he didn’t know the rules about casting it more than once on the same person within an hour period. He didn’t want Achille to be throwing up on the way to the hospital wing, but…he’d help him, even if it didn’t work. He tucked the wand away, offering a hand. ”Here. Let me help you,” he said quietly.
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Post by Achille Desmarais on Dec 20, 2010 14:18:38 GMT -5
It felt as if his temperature was rising. Achille's head was full of heat, uncomfortably oppressive. Why couldn't he just let things go? Now he was in a huge predicament, and he felt awful in so many ways. Feeling as if he was in a dark oppressive cloud, isolating him from the world, he was surprised when a clear light poked through his somber mind. It was Rome's voice. Achille was confused at first, because his mental images did not line up with what was going on. Why would Rome sound like relief to him?
This side of Rome was so interesting to Achille, he had never realized that Rome could care about another person's feelings. Achille disliked himself for thinking such thoughts. How could he get so caught up in this kid's act? He was just another stupid girl, getting caught up in looks, and falling for a total wanker. But maybe Rome was sincere...
He felt his stomach turn, this time not in sickness, but in fear. He could not go to the infirmary, and he was certain that's where Rome wanted to take him. Although in reality they would most likely diagnose him with the flu, he worried that they might see the marks of his addiction. Also, he had to get that package tomorrow, or he would never find relief.
He answered at first in French, instinctively going back to his vernacular tongue. "Laissez-moi! Je n'ai pas besoin de l'assistance!" He blinked after he realized Rome most likely wouldn't understand. "Err... Sorry... Umm... I err... can't go to the infirmary..." He was so nervous, he could hear Rome asking him why not already. What would he say? He could never tell the truth.
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Post by Rome Kingston on Dec 20, 2010 18:25:33 GMT -5
Rome wasn’t feeling like himself -- yes, that’s it. There was no other explanation as to why he was acting so…out of character, going so far as to offer the younger male assistance to go to the infirmary. But he was slightly surprised when the other proceeded to speak in French, pulling his hand back as he understood what the other was saying. His father had made sure he knew how to speak French, considering his French ancestry. And he always tried to use the language so he didn’t forget it; his journal, for one, was sometimes written in French, though it did jump from French to German and back to French. He did love learning new languages.
Rome bit his lip as the other corrected himself and spoke in English -- and in a less hostile fashion. ”Je ne vais pas vous conduire à l'infirmerie,” he replied in a quiet tone. ”I was born in Versailles, and my father is from France. I know how to speak the language.” He was quiet for a moment longer before continuing what he had said in French. ”If you don’t want, I won’t take you to the hospital wing. But let me help you, at least. You don’t look like you could get very far without puking your guts out.”
The fifth year offered his hand again. Achille could refuse it again, and Rome would probably just leave him alone. Just let him sit there, throwing up until some other soul decided to force him to the hospital wing -- and then all hopes him trying to skip out of going to the hospital wing, for whatever reason (Rome didn’t honestly care; he probably just had a phobia of hospitals), would be dashed. And Rome really doubted Achille would want that.
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Post by Achille Desmarais on Dec 20, 2010 19:29:27 GMT -5
Achille couldn't believe what he was hearing. Rome Kingston was offering to help him, and he was definitely being genuine. What had made Rome willing to show his soft side to Achille? "Je..." He hesitated, unsure of what to do. He was relieved and made happy by the fact that Rome could listen and answer in French. It made Achille much more at home. He was still unused to a Rome that wasn't attacking with barbed flirtations, though. He decided to accept Rome's hand, since it seemed to be offered from the goodness of his heart. His hesitation became, "Merci."
He gazed up at Rome's face as the boy helped him to get off of the ground and to his feet. He was looking at him with a very unique expression, at least for Rome. His features had become relaxed and even more attractive. Achille was very aware of Rome's lips as their faces grew closer. The spell was broken too soon, though, as Achille stumbled, his forgotten illness deciding to remind him of itself. He could taste the remains of what had been expelled from him on his tongue and feel the burning in his throat.
He was forced to lean heavily on Rome, using the boy's benevolent assistance to keep himself from keeling over. He kept his head down, and he said off to the side away from Rome's face, "You are being very kind to me... I... don't understand." He was embarrassed at being so weak as to need someone's help, and also at having been so vulnerable emotionally, as he felt right now. He wondered if the Slytherin had felt the same way. He hesitated to even ask the question, as if it would ruin the moment.
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Post by Rome Kingston on Dec 20, 2010 20:30:21 GMT -5
Rome brushed a few strands of hair out of his own face, nodding as the other thanked him. Seriously, not even he understood why he was doing this shit. Achille was just a fourth year. But…he was in Ravenclaw, like his brother. Maybe that was it -- maybe he was feeling a bit of sympathy for him because he was a Ravenclaw. There wasn’t any doubt in his head that he was actually okay with the Ravenclaws (possibly the only House he actually genuinely liked), so that could be one reason as to why he was actually being nice to the younger male. Without flirting, at least. It took him another moment to realize that he had been thanked, and he smiled faintly. He always liked to use French, but didn’t often have the chance to speak it. ”Je vous en prie,” he replied quietly, trying to remove the smile from his face -- and failing.
Rome helped the other up, not bothering to look around. Let them talk. Let them talk about how Rome actually did something nice to someone. They were just going to have to endure more hell for it later. He was slightly startled, however, when Achille stumbled. He wrapped his arm around the other’s waist tightly, trying to make sure he was able to keep his balance -- and holding him steady. He didn’t seem think much of the situation; he had taunted people so much with similar situations that he didn’t appear to be at all phased by the fact that his arm was now around Achille’s waist and the rather attractive fourth year was rather close to him.
And now leaning on him. Achille had proceeded to lean on Rome, probably because Rome had offered to help him and this could be classified as part of helping -- and was probably invited to do so the moment Rome had his arm around Achille’s waist. But Achille didn’t look at him. Why would he? It hadn’t been too long ago that Rome had been taunting him, that he had even taken the effort to try and attack Rome with a spell -- at the risk of making himself sicker, it seemed. As the other mentioned Rome’s kindness, he shook his head. ”You’re sick. It’s not like I could very well taunt you while you’re sick,” he replied. ”I know I’m pretty amoral, but that’s low, even for me.” He had the tone as if he was trying to convince himself along with Achille.
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Post by Achille Desmarais on Dec 20, 2010 21:13:05 GMT -5
Achille's face registered pleasure at the use of his own language by Rome. It would be hard to tell that he was actually exhibiting happiness, because of the way that he didn't quite smile, at least with his mouth. In his eyes, though, was a glimmer, a sparkle of joy. Despite the fact that his body was roiling on the inside, he felt so comforted in Rome's arms. The small weight of Rome's hand on his waist welcomed him to a comforting support from the other boy.
Whatever made him feel so safe in the arms of Rome was powerful, and overrode every instinct normally possessing the boy. When Rome mentioned his sickness, Achille began to worry, and he stuttered out quickly, "Je n'ai pas une maladie. Ce passerai." He did not want Rome to know that he really was sick, and for a reason, but his haste in answering made it somewhat obvious. He realized it as soon as he had responded.
He had to make his phrase seem less suspicious, "I meant, I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow." He finally turned to look into Rome's face as he said this, and he was startled by the affection he felt seeing the boy's happy face. He then wondered at the rest of Rome's statement. It wasn't so much the words, but his tone of voice. Rome had seemed to be somewhat unconvincing of his reasons for helping Achille. In this position, Rome's arm around Achille, and Achille actually making eye contact with someone for once, he felt that there could be only one reason. He dared not think the word. It would break the spell.
He pulled his body slightly closer to Rome's body, taking his support even though he did not need it as much as he had before. Speaking softly, he asked, "Would you help me get up to the Ravenclaw Tower?" He felt so silly and vulnerable and foolish being so open with Rome, but he really did need the help. Homework would have to be dealt with at another time. He would get help from another 4th year. Once again needing help. At the moment, though, he needed some way to feel temporary relief, and the only way would be to lose consciousness until morning. If he could sleep. Hopefully insomnia would not present itself at his doorstep, forcing its way between Achille and rest.
He despaired at being such a helpless thing. Once he had his drugs he would be better. All of this craziness would be gone. The insanity of this moment would disappear, and the depression, anxiety, and regret pressing in on all sides would be under control.
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Post by Rome Kingston on Dec 20, 2010 23:32:06 GMT -5
Rome didn’t notice the sparkle in Achille’s eyes when he spoke in the same language as him, but he did notice that the other wasn’t tense while in his hold. In fact, Rome might even say that Achille was relaxed, comforted, by the arm that he had around his waist. Which probably surprised him more than anything. But…considering the fact that it was probably because the fourth year was too sick to realize whom it was, exactly, that was helping him out. Because, surely, no one would actually let Rome help them out. Not if they were in their right mind. Yes, that’s gotta be right. Achille wasn’t in his right mind, that’s why he wasn’t tense when Rome was helping him, why he seemed to be okay with it all.
Rome raised an eyebrow at the comment that the other made in French, but decided not to think much of it. He was just paranoid because it was Rome, this fifth year that would flirt with him incessantly and always annoying. Yes, that was why he said it so oddly. He nodded, though, as Achille corrected himself. ”I’m sure you will,” he replied, surprised by the other actually turning to look at him. What had he done to actually attract his attention, rather than being this vile thing that he always hated. After he spoke, he held eye contact with Achille for a moment longer before looking at the vomit Achille had made a little while ago, pulling his wand out and muttering something, making the vomit vanish.
As Achille moved closer, Rome hesitated. He…hadn’t had someone this close to him since…No, it wasn’t the same. He didn’t like Achille; he was just a fellow classmate doing a favor. But he couldn’t help but try and draw the parallels between Achille and Lukis. As much as it pained him. Luckily, when Achille spoke again, it pulled him out of his thoughts and back into reality. He wanted help to the Ravenclaw tower? Rome nodded. ”Sure, I can help you with that,” he replied quietly. ”Just…tell me if you need anything, all right? I’m willing to help.”
No! Idiot! Why did he say that?! Achille was surely going to exact that favor, and it wouldn’t end well for Rome, he was sure of it. But it didn’t matter right now, he believed, as he began to walk, helping Achille along with him slightly.
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Post by Achille Desmarais on Dec 21, 2010 22:39:18 GMT -5
Achille felt embarrassed again when he saw the leftovers of his stomach being cleaned up again. He was so reliant on everyone else to fix his problem. But apparently, looking pitiful, weak, stupid, brash, and fickle was one way to get Rome's attention, and in a good way for once. Achille sighed. His stomach was in a knot, both metaphorically and physically.
Achille sensed a momentary tension as he drew himself into Rome for comfort, and wondered why. It could be possible that Rome was being totally fake right now, but Achille knew in his heart that it couldn't be the case. Achille had never felt this at home, even among his family. He remained silent, just for a moment, to take it all in, wishing this could last for a minute longer before they had to begin the long intimidating trek up to his dormitory.
There was a discontinuity with Rome, him being so kind. Achille would take the opportunity that presented itself, though. He needed a hand to get up, and who better than this attractive boy, who for once was not being an obnoxious tool. "M-merci," Achille told Rome, from the bottom of his heart. He had come to terms with his vulnerability, because after all, this moment was bliss. "Est-ce que tu signifie ca?" he wondered, hoping that Rome was genuine in his offer.
They finally began to actually make their way toward the exit, slowly, because of Achille's practically dead weight at times on Rome's shoulder. It was a joyful labor, making their way toward the exit. Some of the people of the courtyard went back to their conversations, realizing that the excitement was temporarily over with, and that they weren't going to get any more intensity tonight. Achille wouldn't notice if they were paying attention to the pair, he and Rome were in their own bubble, isolated from the world.
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Post by Rome Kingston on Dec 21, 2010 23:24:53 GMT -5
Rome had only cleaned up the vomit because he couldn’t look at Achille anymore. Achille was making eye contact with him, as if trying to answer the question that Rome himself was trying to answer by looking through his eyes, into his mind: Why was one of the biggest douches in school actually being nice? Rome had no idea as to why he was acting this way either, but…it didn’t matter.
Achille was playing him. Yes, that was the only logical explanation for this whole mess. The only reason as to why he was actually being nice towards him, why he was letting him near, even touching. Achille wanted to let him get his walls down, he wanted to hurt him. Who wouldn’t want to hurt Rome? Honestly, a bunch people at this damn school would jump at the opportunity to just tear the fifth year apart -- most just ignored him or didn’t give much of a shit about who he was. But he’d play along for now. Achille didn’t need to know that Rome was onto him, no. And then, before Achille could hurt him, Rome would call him on it.
Rome’s reasoning faltered, however, when Achille spoke again. Rome knew that Achille was planning on hurting him, so…why not just let him? It was going to happen, Rome knew it, so why not just keep his guard up, but give the impression he was letting the other in -- and then, when the pain inevitably came, it wouldn’t hurt as much, since Rome had be preparing for it. But he was thinking too far ahead. ”Bien sûr, je ne. Sinon, pourquoi aurais-je le dire?” he replied quietly, also not noticing that they had no one watching them. Rome gave the other a faint smile, unable to keep himself from doing it. Achille…was actually really cute. He always said it when teasing the other, yes, but…it wasn’t before this moment that he actually realized that he meant it.
”Are you ready to return to the dorms?” he asked the other. ”You can sit down for a little bit longer, if you need to. To gather your strength, you know.” Oh, Rome, always so thoughtful. He wasn’t looking at Achille, though -- he was looking off in front of himself, trying to keep everything in check.
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Post by Achille Desmarais on Dec 22, 2010 0:14:29 GMT -5
Achille's eyes softened at Rome's remark, which he perceived as quite sweet. He had never known a time when Rome was being genuine, and even now he may not be, but it would be so wonderful if he was. It was worth believing what he saw for once, to experience the enjoyment of this moment without worry, even if he did feel ill.
After trying to leave, he realized that he had been foolish in making assumptions. He felt his cheeks getting hot. "I figured that you would want to be rid of me quickly, so I thought we would head up there now, but if you don't mind, I'd love to sit for a while." Rome was exceeding his expectations in many ways. He didn't know he would be this willing to spend time with him, but he was happily surprised.
He turned his head toward the bench, and made a small motion with it to direct Rome to the spot he though would be comfortable, private, and relaxing. He was very nervous about talking to Rome in this way, just the two of them. He was going to try to put up no pretenses and be himself. Wanting to hold on to this version of Rome of as long as possible, perhaps if he gained a relationship with him, this version would come back. "So why were you down here in the first place?" He was curious, and he wanted Rome to keep talking so he could focus on his breathing to stay able despite his internal illness. Once they got to a sitting position it would probably be better for him. And he could continue to spend time with Rome.
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Post by Rome Kingston on Dec 22, 2010 16:34:14 GMT -5
It had been a long time since Rome had been like this; kind enough to magic away someone’s vomit, kind enough to help them to their dorm, and even offering to stay with him until he was feeling up to going to their dorm. Hell, just the tone he was using with Achille hadn’t been used by the fifth year in a while. Well, at least, not including his family -- he was always nice to Alois and his father, of course. In fact, he was almost completely different when he was home. He loved his father and his brother, much more than anyone at Hogwarts. Not to mention, Hogwarts was just filled with bad memories. But…he was starting to take the same approach with Achille that he did with his family, and that was brand spankin’ new.
Rome gave a light chuckle. ”I honestly don’t care,” he replied. ”I’d prefer if you didn’t throw up on me, though. And I’m sure it would help if you were to sit down for a little bit before…yeah.” He would have shrugged, but it would have disrupted Achille and how he was leaning against him -- and if Rome said he didn’t like how the other was close to him, he’d be lying his ass off. He hadn’t had anyone that close to him since…well, not including Alois, a while. And he liked it. A lot.
Rome paused, though, when the other asked him the question. He paused for a moment, heading over to the bench. ”Dunno,” he responded simply. ”I was just avoiding doing homework and that shit. And it’s not like there’s anything interesting in the Slytherin common rooms. So I decided to just come out hear and watch people be…people, I guess.” He stopped in front of the bench, looking towards Achille. ”How about you?”
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Post by Achille Desmarais on Dec 24, 2010 11:08:08 GMT -5
Achille had liked boys before, but never been close to one in this manner before. He could tell that Rome didn't want him to part with him, and Achille didn't want to leave either. He grimaced as Rome mentioned him vomiting, as the taste present in his mouth was reminded. The laugh that escaped Rome's mouth, though, made it alright. Even though it was just slight, it was a unique laugh, one that he had never heard from Rome.
Achille closed his eyes for a moment as they sat down on the bench and tried to relax. He could feel his heartbeat, and it was pounding. He wasn't sure whether the cause was his proximity to Rome, or the aftereffects of being sick. He was also shaky, almost seeming like he was shivering. He felt so comforted leaning against Rome on the bench, though.
He was hesitant on how to answer Rome's question. He supposed he could be more or less honest. "I just needed some fresh air. It's too stuffy inside." Rome's reason confused him, "Why would you want to watch other people? I always find it so déprimant, seeing them happy with their friends and jokes and relationships. It makes me feel like an outsider." He wasn't sure why he was letting so much of himself become known by Rome, but it felt good.
He was reminded of the people elsewhere in the courtyard, and turned his head from Rome to look at them, a group of girls giggling with each other, a boy flirting with a girl on another bench and her shying away, another boy showing off a broomstick, they all made Achille sick. Not that he could get any more sick. Why did he have to ruin everything for himself? He was having such a lovely time for a few seconds, but he had to go and ruin it with self-pity.
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Post by Rome Kingston on Dec 27, 2010 12:09:50 GMT -5
Rome didn’t hear Achille’s heart beating so fast, but he did feel how shaky the other was, and his mouth grew into a frown. What was wrong with him that he was shaking so much? Was he that sick, that the being outside was too cold for him, due to a fever or something? He said nothing, merely let the arm he had around the other hug him closer, more protectively. He felt bad for Achille, being out while he was sick. But…he wanted to stay outside rather than go back inside. It was hard to believe that not too long ago now, he was taunting the other, trying to get him angry.
Rome nodded at Achille’s response. ”Makes sense,” he replied. ”It can get really stuffy in there.” He gave a light chuckle, which only grew into a soft laugh at Achille’s confusion. ”No, it doesn’t make much sense. But…anything was better than staying in there, with homework pressing down on me and shit like that. Being outside, at least, had a chance of being exciting. As we’ve seen already.” He laughed again and scratched his head. ”But…why do you feel like an outsider? I think you could fit in if you wanted to. Vous êtes suffisamment attractif.” He smiled again.
When Achille looked at the people all around them, Rome did as well. He made a face at the people all around them; the girls disgusted and annoyed him the most, along with the guy flirting with the girl. He pulled his wand out of his cloak and pointed it first towards the girls, trying to think of a good spell to cast on them.
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