Library

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

As she drew near, Cecil saw no sign of the silver chain of his gift around her neck, and he couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen the necklace on her at all when passing by one another in the halls or on the staircase. Perhaps she didn't like it after all. He shrugged off the thought.

"How kind of you," he replied with a grin. "I'd surely die of boredom if I have to sit through another chapter of this nonsense."

[Vanessa]

"Well, we can't have that." Rosaline might have made a quip at death except it was a terribly inappropriate time to do so. The younger Slytherin students were being little pests about it, too, spreading rumours that were meant as jokes but incredibly disrespectful given the circumstances.

"Kind of me? Terribly. I do hope that you are aware of the invaluable gift I've given you, darling," Rosaline said, drawing out the last word with a grin that mirrored Cecil's in everything but that slight, ever-present arrogance. It suited him, and she loathed to love it as much as she loved to loathe it.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

The younger Gryffindors were no better, though they tended to quiet themselves at the sight of the older students, which limited the number of annoyances surrounding the matter. Cecil didn't pay them any mind, however, and wouldn't have regardless of the subject.

"Invaluable gift? Did you mean this?" He slid off the ring, holding it between his index finger and thumb. "I wouldn't call it invaluable, but it is a pretty sight." He gave her a wink.

"Speaking of gifts, what's happened to the one I gave you?"

[Vanessa]

"Very pretty. But no, I meant your salvation from the tortuous task of studying," she clarified. The question stimulated an uncertain response. Rosaline's grin faded as she took her time in answering.

The little box still had its place in her bag, safely tucked away in an inner pouch. At times Rosaline would look at it, admiring the shift in colour from red to green and somewhere in between. Never wearing it, though.

Perhaps she had over-analysed the implications of wearing the necklace, but that didn't make them nonexistent. Rosaline didn't know where they stood. The lines separating their playful friendship, a relationship, and no relationship at all had been hopelessly blurred on the night of the Christmas party. They were still that way. It was made worse because they hadn't spoken in weeks, which gave Rosaline doubts about whether he still wanted anything to do with her at all. Wearing it would feel wrong, especially in the case that Cecil had found someone else (a thought which crossed her mind more often than she would've liked).

How was she to tell him that?

"I've still got it," she assured, although Rosaline did not look Cecil in the eye. "I just can't wear it."

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

"I thank you all the same."

His own smile faded with hers, a slight confusion hinted at in his features with her answer. Was there something wrong with it? Or was she too embarrassed to wear it? Why she would have been, he hadn't the faintest idea.

"Why not?" Cecil asked. He had slipped on the ring without a second thought, and it nearly always stayed on his hand. Of course, he still hadn't told his friends who'd given it to him, for he shared the same fears as her, and saying that Kelly had given it to him would only have led to questions that he didn't want to spend time answering.

[Vanessa]

She bit her lip, and her shoulders grew tense, as they always did when she was in an uncomfortable situation. It was difficult to find the right words to say, and Rosaline wasn't so eager to outright tell him. It would have been so much easier, if by some inexplicable intuition, Cecil knew why. Unfortunately, Rosaline was inclined to think that he was not capable of figuring it out.

"We didn't make any contact for weeks," she said quietly, still not looking at him but instead at the rows of leather-bound books. "I didn't know if you were avoiding me on purpose or not - wearing it would have been garishly inappropriate, if that was the case."

Now her eyes turned to him, their blue-grey depths swirled with uncertainty.

"I have no idea where we stand."

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

The smile returned along with a small chuckle of relief rather than humour. He'd been expecting something worse, but he could understand her worry (that, too, was a first. It seemed to be a running theme with Kelly, all of the firsts, from the attention to the compliment). He hadn't been sure if she'd wanted to speak to him at all after what his mother did. He didn't blame her if she didn't.

"Did you really think that you'd be able to get rid of me after a kiss like that?" he asked instead.

Cecil didn't know what he wanted out of their relationship, regardless of where it was. Commitment was such a foreign concept that he didn't want to think about it. Yet, the idea of being without her--having her refuse him as she did in the gazebo--was undeniably crushing. Everything in between was either not enough, or far too much.

[.]

[AND SUDDENLY A WILD SNORLAX APPEARS]

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

((WHERE THE F/CK IS MY POKEFLUTE.))

[Vanessa]

((<3))

"Were it not for what followed, perhaps." Her doubts were justifiable on those terms. The night had ended badly and it had made things extremely unclear. While Rosaline didn't blame Cecil, what had happened had caught her off guard and she unprepared for the vulnerable position that those events had placed her in. Being wary of Cecil afterwards was only reasonable.

"Then where does this put us?" she inquired, feeling a flutter in her chest, the familiar symptom of nervousness.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

Cecil paused, frowning. He still felt bad for what happened, but it wasn't like he knew where they stood any more than she did. He couldn't run away (both literally and metaphorically; she sat in his way) like he usually did to avoid confrontation.

"I don't know," he replied. He hated the phrase, and very rarely did he use it. He'd made a point to never be caught off guard, always having some sort of answer regardless of whether or not it made sense.

[Vanessa]

She took little comfort in the fact that he didn't know either. Rosaline didn't want to face this any more than he did, however she knew it was necessary and it was not in her nature to merely forget and pretend to move on. Another question presented itself to her, one whose answer had several possibilities, and Rosaline wasn't quite sure if she wanted to hear them.

"Well, then...where do you want to be?"

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

((whose* :3))
Again, Cecil didn't know, but he didn't want to admit that again, and so he leaned down to whisper in her ear instead. He brushed aside a lock of hair off of her shoulder, warm breath tickling her neck. He'd avoid the question for as long as he could, he decided. Which would be quite a while, considering how stubborn he could get.

"I can't even tell you what I'm thinking of right now," he replied.

[Vanessa]

A slender hand slid up onto his shoulder, where the fingertips skittered and then found a grip there. Rosaline leaned into him, so close that she could feel as her eyelashes swiped like butterfly kisses against Cecil's cheek. His breath on the skin of her neck sent tingles up and down her spine, and warmth began to spread from there, as though her body was remembering how she'd felt on that distant snowy evening.

"Tell me," she whispered in a voice that wanted, a voice that tempted with vague but enticing promises.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

"How about I show you instead?" he replied with a low chuckle. Cecil cupped her jaw in his hand before leaning down to press his lips against hers. A better answer, he thought, than saying that he didn't know again. Besides, she had been practically asking for it, what with being so close to him, and he'd been starved of any sort of action since that evening.

[Vanessa]

She inhaled with the kiss, pressing herself against his chest. Her other arm wound about his neck, where she pulled Cecil in towards her in a way that was almost possessive. It was hard to admit but Rosaline craved it, for they seemed to fit into each other with such marvelous perfection. Distancing herself from that feeling for so long made her want it so much more.

Rosaline pulled away, sated for a moment, long enough to repeat, "Tell me." Before this went on any further, she needed to know. At least have some indication that she was not another plaything of his.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

His hands dropped to wrap around her waist, pulling her close. For a moment, it seemed that she would forget about the question all together, and it would be left alone for the time being. But it seemed she had other ideas.

Cecil let out an annoyed sigh, frowning once she pulled back. Unlike Rosaline, he was far from satisfied, and the last thing he wanted to think about was anything so serious. "Why?" he murmured.

[Vanessa]

His aversion of answering her earlier question bothered her enough that Rosaline felt the need to draw her arms back to herself. The nervous pressure in her chest increased along with a sense of impending disappointment.

"Because I have to know that I'm not to be cast aside once the novelty has worn off. I can't go on if that's the case. I can't do that to myself, Cecil." She had too much self-respect for it, and frankly, the idea of being walked out on without so much as a second thought scared her.

Perhaps that was the reason her heart was so difficult to win in any kind of relationship, even the simplest friendship. It was no secret to anyone, either - those who had pursued Rosaline knew that it was no easy feat, and Cecil had experienced that chase first hand.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

His brows furrowed slightly, his arms, however, remained snug around her waist. Cecil tensed slightly, but he rested his forehead against hers. He was quiet, clearly uncertain about what to say, what he should say.

"I already told you what I think about you, Kelly," he said. "And I meant it. I'm not going to repeat myself." He was, of course, referring to what his slightly intoxicated mind had let out. Compliments. Something so rare, and yet he had said them so freely that it was almost worrisome. He'd meant every one, but he refused to say them again.

[Vanessa]

"You and your impossible pride," she murmured, the corner of her mouth quirked into a half-smile. She might have found it annoying, except remembering what Cecil had told her filled Rosaline with pleasure. Tilting her head slightly, her lips found his again and granted him another long, amatory kiss.

Rosaline came away again, this time very lightly tugging on his bottom lip. "Can you tell me now, darling?" she purred against the end Cecil's jaw, where she could feel the soft pulse.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

"Don't pretend like you don't love it," he replied, returning the smile with a jaunty one of his own. He pulled her back against him, relishing the moment. The grin remained on his face when she pulled away, pulling his lip with her.

"Tease," Cecil murmured. "But what would I get? I've said so many nice things about you--" rather, just the one "--and you haven't returned the favour at all. What am I supposed to make of that?"

[Vanessa]

"Oh, but you love it," she mimicked, a touch of playful mockery in her tone. As if to further his point, her fingers came up and the tips brushed just below the line of Cecil's jaw, going down lower to trace the curve of his collarbone. She paused when he spoke.

"'So many nice things?'" Rosaline's lilting laugh rang airily after the sarcastic echo of his question. She brought her head away to fix Cecil with a skeptical look. "I don't recall 'so many nice things.' Make of it what you will, however, I'm surprised that you find the need to be told of your high caliber," she said. "Does your confidence wane?" she challenged, her smile impish.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

"That I do." Cecil let out a quiet chuckle. They were, after all, still in the library, and the last thing he wanted was Madame Bott growing suspicious.

"Not a necessity so much as compensation," Cecil clarified. "It's only fair, Kelly. It's about time you've given me something back. Besides, I do like it when people compliment me, as it reminds me that I do have a higher calibre than what I expect of myself, which, admittedly, is very high in its own right."

[Vanessa]

"You should know by now that I don't really play fair, Graham," she reminded lightly. "It's highly overrated. People act as if life is based on a fair exchange, but the universe doesn't give what is owed or due. If that was the case, then the universe would be in some serious debt."

Rosaline tilted her head, regarding Cecil with those sharp, vibrant eyes that seemed to doubt as often as they gleamed with fearless daring. Then her mouth curled into an easy smile, "However, I am much much kinder than the universe. And while I don't play fair, I am still the fairest of them all. Which demands some degree of fairness, I suppose."

"Now, I ask myself, what impossible, wonderful thing would Cecil Graham say?"

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

A knowing smile crept onto his face, and he shook his head. His hand moved from her hips to cup her cheek, thumb rest on her lower lip. Cecil leaned down to rest his forehead against hers.

"I'm not stupid, you know," he said. "In fact, I'm rather clever, actually. I'm not looking for what I would say, Kelly. You see, if I wanted that, I wouldn't be talking to you right now, now would I?" His head moved towards her ear, breath tickling the tips. "I want you to tell me."

[Vanessa]

Every syllable sent a new tingle of heat over her skin, at which point she melted against Cecil. Rosaline's ear had to follow the deep tones and soft articulation before comprehending; he had a voice that bordered on sinfully addictive.

"I know. It's fun to play, but I know," she murmured, her head resting on his chest, just below his shoulder. It was purely affectionate, the gentle nuzzles and low, warm mellifluence with which Rosaline spoke, because the moment demanded that kind of sincerity.

"You are quite clever." Which - coming from her (especially after the numerous times Rosaline had called Cecil incompetent) - was rare.

"You're brilliant," she whispered, the word coming faint and thrilling, capturing the temporary fullness of her admiration.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

"Really? In what way?" Cecil pressed. His hand fell from her face to rest on her back. It was only fair that she tell him why. She'd demanded to know why of him, and he was also curious of what she had to say. His tone lacked the urgency she'd had when they were in the gazebo.

"And don't you dare say, 'In every way,'" he added as an afterthought. "Because then you'd just be copying, and that's no fun at all."

[Vanessa]

"How can you say that when you've copied me?" she inquired disapprovingly. Rosaline turned her head to look up at him, regarding Cecil with a pouting lip, that characteristic expression of displeasure. "Word for word, too. It's downright plagiarism," she insisted, although the lightness in her voice revealed the playful nature of her words.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

"I have no idea what you're talking about, love," he replied. His own lip jutted out a bit, mouth curved into a frown, as he feigned an innocent look--or as innocent as he could manage. "I wouldn't dream of doing such a thing."

[Vanessa]

A tinkle of laughter escaped from her frowning lips that curled now into a radiant smile. He couldn't look innocent even if he was holding a *kitten. "Have it your way, then." Rosaline lifted her head to speak the words softly, tenderly, her voice a sweet tonic -

"You're so infuriatingly clever sometimes, keeping me on my toes - " The quick, wicked banter they exchanged always left her wanting more. There was a certain thrill in it that livened her senses. Rosaline was the worthiest game to any hunter, a priceless mink that was entirely worth the chase, the fast-paced thrill. And yet, she rarely ever found that she enjoyed the chase.

" - thrilled, agitated, delighted, roused - all that and so much more."

((*Double pun fully intended.))

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

((Laughing so hard.))

"Roused and so much more, you say?" Cecil echoed, mouth curling into a mischievous grin, the ever present arrogance more prominent than ever. "I can't say you're the first to tell me that, but I'm flattered nonetheless."

He lay a quick peck on the base of her jaw. So rarely did he find himself so captivated by anyone. The longest relationship (if it could even be called that) he'd had lasted barely three weeks, and that was when he was younger and naïve. Yet, he loved (nearly) every moment they shared together in their little game of chase. She had become so much more than just a plaything to him.

[Vanessa]

There it was, that arrogant grin. Except after seeing it slightly inebriated, exhilarated by firewhiskey, it was more amusing to Rosaline than irritating. A radical paradigm shift, although she could still find the urge to roll her eyes. It wasn't as if she had never been told about her own "amazing" nature, but it was hard to give a clever retort when she was distracted by the warm sensation of skin on skin so near her pulse.

Hopefully Cecil wasn't so sensitive to her movements that he noticed the slight arch of her back, the increased pressure of fingertips on his shoulder.

"And you have sublime taste," Rosaline amended. She twisted away from Cecil for a moment to reach inside her bag, producing the little silver box. She lifted the pendant out by the chain, admiring it in the dim light of the library. The gem refracted equal amounts of red and green, and the minuscule diamonds reflected in Rosaline's eyes.

They blinked expectantly at Cecil.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

It seemed as if Cecil hadn't noticed--it wouldn't be the first time he'd been blind to subtlety. In fact, he hadn't noticed the arching of her back, pressing her closer to his chest, but he did feel her her grip tighten, and it added a hint of amusement to his smile. He would have gone further, but she pulled away.

As she pulled the necklace out of the box, the smile grew into one more genuine, and he felt slightly proud. Proud that the necklace pleased her and that she'd wear it for a change. But that pride was so different than the usual arrogance caused by vanity, and it confused him.

The pendant itself was no longer than an inch. It was pretty without being over the top.

"I try," he said.

[Vanessa]

"It has a certain, je ne sais quoi, hm?" she asked, slurring the words with that characteristic flowing, breathy accent. "I don't know if I've mentioned it, but I am extremely cultured," Rosaline remarked, her tone a touch sarcastic; she knew next to nothing about French.

After undoing the little barrel clasp, she held the necklace out to Cecil. "Let's see some of that Gryffindor chivalry," Rosaline said, turning and pulling forward dark curls to expose her neck. Her narrowed eyes warned Cecil with an unspoken, Don't you dare try anything. She would have put on the chain herself, but the clasp was small and it would be easier to have someone else do it for her.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

"Clearly," Cecil replied with a short laugh. While he too didn't know any French, he was almost entirely certain that she was just making up words.

"Of course, love." He took either ends of the necklace while she adjusted herself. The look she gave him only served to provoke him rather than to subdue him, and he leaned forward, the silver chain sinking down and onto her skin. His breath tickled the nape of her neck as he redid the clasp, his lips a bit too close. As his hands moved away, he lay a gentle kiss on the side of her neck, just below where the last one was.

"It looks lovely, if I do say so myself," he murmured.

[Vanessa]

The delicate metal grazing her skin was enough of a tickle, but it seemed that Cecil had worked out the sensitivity there, and her warning was taken as more of a challenge. Rosaline drew a sharp breath, her fingers curling as she tensed for a fraction of a second. They uncurled as Rosaline relaxed against him, the sensation more pleasurable than she would've liked to admit.

"You're awful," she breathed.

The chain nestled into place against her collarbone, the gem glimmering rose in its silver wrappings. Rosaline delighted in seeing it finally grace her neck, where such a beauty belonged. "Doesn't it just?"

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

"Awfully brilliant," he replied just as quietly. Cecil remained close, pausing long enough to reply to her last comment, "Perfection."

His lips returned to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses increasing in their amorousness and length as they made their way up to her chin, where they paused just before her lips. Their exchange thus far had been returning favours. It was only fair that he leave her with some sort of tease.

"I look forward to seeing it again tomorrow," he said, pulling his textbook and notes from the table and slipping them into his bag.

[Vanessa]

He left her practically purring from pleasure. It felt as though he was tracing a trail of fire up to her mouth, where he stopped, and Rosaline looked at him with her eyes ablaze. There was nothing to be said, for the look in them spoke enough.

"I'll keep you waiting for the sun, I'm sure," she replied, mirroring his pride in her own cool and subtle way. Shouldering her bag and standing, Rosaline's mouth parted in a yawn. "I wish our common room was closer," she whined, not eager to go down all the way back down to the dungeons.

"Oh well. Goodnight," she sang with a little wave of farewell, starting back to the entrance.

[Jo]

After receiving her letter Erin had quietly left the Owlery and headed to the library. She had half-coerced Trelawney to give her permission to enter the Forbidden section ever since the term had begun so no one would get a glimpse of what she was working on. She usually had to research school maps and that sort of things to answer the letters, too.

This afternoon she held her lit wand to the newly received missive and had inmediately searched for an intricate lie for them about accesibility to the Astronomy Tower.

[Iviana (The Sign Painter)]

((Restricted Section*))

[Vanessa]

In the last week or so Bruce had come back into touch with the outside world. That included the massive amount of schoolwork he'd been ignoring. He dragged himself down to the library to work with minimal distractions, but he'd even been delayed by stopping to glance out a window for a few seconds.

So when Bruce spotted Dom's cousin, Erin, he could not stop himself from ambling over just to avoid starting his work.

[Jo]

Erin had been so deeply focused into rmthis work that it wasn't until Bruce was a few feet away from her that she realized she wasn't alone, and she jumped at his appearance, suppressing a gasp on a fluke.

Her first instinct was to cover the map she had open on the desk, and forgot that the letter was under the cover.

[Vanessa]

He hadn't uttered a single word and yet Erin had nearly leapt out of her skin in surprise. Strangely so. Bruce regarded the Hufflepuff with a raised brow. "Fry, what are you reading?" Even when Bruce was still more serious than usual, his voice contained held a suggestive nature.

[Jo]

Erin refused to look at Bruce in the eye. Not that they intermingled much, same with Daniel Summers, but she didn't feel like owning up to what she had done, and especially not now. Her face was creased with worry and she kept her eyes on the floor.

She made a wild grab at her letters and put them upside down on her other side, away from Bruce. "It's--it's nothing."

[Vanessa]

Bruce misinterpreted it for embarrassment, which only made him even more curious as to what Erin was hiding. It didn't take a genius to see that she was hiding something, scrambling at some stray parchment and flipping them over.

"Nothing," he repeated skeptically, looking down at her. "Really?"

[Jo]

Erin couldn't bring herself to say, "It's none of your business" because it was every bit his business. Instead, her tone became a little colder, and simply stated, "Just don't ask, all right?" She picked up the notebook by her right and after pushing the book with the map away she took the sheets and in an attempt to order them one fell away.

[Vanessa]

Erin's response was surprising. It wasn't like her, as far as Bruce had known the Hufflepuff. She was normally quite nice and cheery, like most of the lot, and he didn't think he'd done anything to offend her. Just before he was about to go, the fluttering of parchment caught his eye. Bruce knelt down to pick up the letter.

He didn't mean to read it, but his eyes were drawn to the ink. Bruce caught glimpses of words and snatches of sentences, stitching them together as he skimmed over it. Dread weighed like a cold stone in the pit of his stomach.

"Winter assault. . .further plans to advance on. . .part of the movement. . ."

[Jo]

Erin had no time to react, and before she knew it, Bruce had taken the letter and even though he didn't look like he was reading closely, his face showed stark shock before the piece of paper. Before she could help it she snatched the paper with a vengeance and stuffed it inside the notebook with the rest of her papers.

She stood and tried to run, but her feet were as heavy as lead.

[Vanessa]

Bruce made no move to take back the letter. Instead he stood, as if struck by some invisible force, feeling quite unsteady on his feet and almost sick. His mouth was parted in the anticipation of speech, though nothing could put what he felt into words.

It was impossible to find another explanation for it. Why else would Erin have reacted with such coldness, and what other reason did she have to run? Bruce could only stare after her, open-mouthed.

[Jo]

Erin just couldn't help staring back at her...not friend, more of an acquaintance...and felt horrified. It was her bum, her family and her father whom she was saving through this work, but Bruce deserved an explanation of some kind. She knew she was going to blow it, but spoke nonetheless.

"Bruce, I--I'm sorry," she began stuttering. "I'm not doing this willingly, I just..." Her eyes were dry but her voice went wheezy, as if she were beginning to cry.