Post by Aurora Chan on Sept 30, 2007 21:36:06 GMT
Aurora ran a restless hand through her cascade of hair for the fiftieth time that afternoon, a soft sigh joining the fray soon after. Ariane glanced up from her work with an irritated expression, though worry lingered in her dark eyes. Aurora seemed not to notice as she gazed off out of the window in the Library, quill poised above the parchment as if in a still frame. Her lips were pursed in thought, though Ariane doubted it concerned her Muggle Studies essay. There was only half a sentence scrawled in Aurora’s neatest handwriting. Aurora didn’t usually make an effort when it concerned legibility; her defining style was difficult to make out, all the words joined together in a mass of swirls and squiggles because she was too lazy to lift her pen from the page. One would have thought that Aurora’s handwriting belonged to an adult’s. Ariane too. Her Potions essay was half a parchment in length, her smart, comprehensible and professional lettering always a thing to admire. Ariane’s eyes flittered from her homework to Aurora’s, watching silently as a drop of black ink was absorbed into the paper, blossoming like a disease as the blot increased in size. Aurora finally noticed as she visibly jumped in surprise, cursing as she grabbed her wand and eradicated the evidence of her loss of concentration.
Ariane decided to take action. “What’s going on?” She ground out bluntly, keeping her voice down due to being in the Library. Aurora looked up in astonishment, eyes wide as though caught in the middle of a guilty act. Meanwhile, the inkblot was gradually fading away. Any indication of it had been obliterated. Aurora’s nervous eyes glanced down at the paper, avoiding Ariane’s intense gaze as she pretended to twiddle with her wand and quill. Finally, Aurora laid the two items side by side next to her barely started essay, and looked up defiantly at her cousin.
“Shall I try and deny it?” Aurora’s lips quirked at the corners, the only indication of her amusement. The rest of her body language, Ariane noted inwardly, screamed her true feelings. The purposefully steady eyes which twitched every few seconds, wanting to dart to the corners of her sockets; the gradual tensing and fidgeting of her hands on the table; and the way she shifted against her chair despite it being suitably comfortable. Aurora had always been good at hiding things from others… she was the master of disguise and pretence. Hence why Ariane was her best friend; she was the only one who could read Aurora’s every move, sense her every emotion. To Ariane, Aurora was as open as an open book could be.
Ariane let silence settle again, her eyes observing Aurora’s every minute movement before answering. “You already know the answer to that.” She stated flatly.
Aurora let out a characteristic bark of humoured laughter. It ceased quickly, but a grateful smile still clung to the corners of her lips. “You’re so… you, Ari.”
Ariane was glad to see her best friend had eased up somewhat. “I’d say the same about you, Aurora.” She deadpanned sarcastically in return, twirling a lock of black behind her ear.
“Hm.” Aurora nodded slowly in agreement, before her eyes levelled in seriousness with Ariane’s again. “I’m sorry.” Aurora finally sighed, propping her head in her hands against the table. The parchment, along with the forgotten quill and wand, inched away. “I’m… just thinking.” Aurora trailed of feebly. She rolled her eyes at her own behaviour, before scowling. “I. Am. Pathetic.”
Ariane smirked. “You’re not.” Aurora sent her a mock scathing look. “Okay. Yes, if I were you, I’d feel pathetic. But that’s just me.” Ariane shrugged carelessly, before fidgeting with her quill, her own essay’s progress having been halted for now. Ariane’s voice suddenly lost its casual quality, becoming cold and firm. “It’s Daniel, isn’t it?” She stated rather than asked with a flinty gaze at her cousin.
Aurora squirmed internally before Ariane’s stare, before submitting to it. “Yes.” She sighed yet again. “What else? I mean, who else?” Aurora’s sorrowful eyes fell to her one line of writing. “You’d think once you say no, it’d be over. You’d give it all up and things would return to normal. I always think things will go back to how it used to be. But somehow, that’s never the case, Ari. Somehow, he’s on my mind even more. I’ll never get rid of him until someone else comes along and helps me knock him out of my head.” Aurora’s teeth ground in frustration. Then she deflated again, annoyance diminishing into misery. “Daniel is meant to be left behind, forgotten baggage. I was so sure once I got away from him that I’d be fine. My head told me that. So why does my heart have to have a say in this?”
Ariane decided to take action. “What’s going on?” She ground out bluntly, keeping her voice down due to being in the Library. Aurora looked up in astonishment, eyes wide as though caught in the middle of a guilty act. Meanwhile, the inkblot was gradually fading away. Any indication of it had been obliterated. Aurora’s nervous eyes glanced down at the paper, avoiding Ariane’s intense gaze as she pretended to twiddle with her wand and quill. Finally, Aurora laid the two items side by side next to her barely started essay, and looked up defiantly at her cousin.
“Shall I try and deny it?” Aurora’s lips quirked at the corners, the only indication of her amusement. The rest of her body language, Ariane noted inwardly, screamed her true feelings. The purposefully steady eyes which twitched every few seconds, wanting to dart to the corners of her sockets; the gradual tensing and fidgeting of her hands on the table; and the way she shifted against her chair despite it being suitably comfortable. Aurora had always been good at hiding things from others… she was the master of disguise and pretence. Hence why Ariane was her best friend; she was the only one who could read Aurora’s every move, sense her every emotion. To Ariane, Aurora was as open as an open book could be.
Ariane let silence settle again, her eyes observing Aurora’s every minute movement before answering. “You already know the answer to that.” She stated flatly.
Aurora let out a characteristic bark of humoured laughter. It ceased quickly, but a grateful smile still clung to the corners of her lips. “You’re so… you, Ari.”
Ariane was glad to see her best friend had eased up somewhat. “I’d say the same about you, Aurora.” She deadpanned sarcastically in return, twirling a lock of black behind her ear.
“Hm.” Aurora nodded slowly in agreement, before her eyes levelled in seriousness with Ariane’s again. “I’m sorry.” Aurora finally sighed, propping her head in her hands against the table. The parchment, along with the forgotten quill and wand, inched away. “I’m… just thinking.” Aurora trailed of feebly. She rolled her eyes at her own behaviour, before scowling. “I. Am. Pathetic.”
Ariane smirked. “You’re not.” Aurora sent her a mock scathing look. “Okay. Yes, if I were you, I’d feel pathetic. But that’s just me.” Ariane shrugged carelessly, before fidgeting with her quill, her own essay’s progress having been halted for now. Ariane’s voice suddenly lost its casual quality, becoming cold and firm. “It’s Daniel, isn’t it?” She stated rather than asked with a flinty gaze at her cousin.
Aurora squirmed internally before Ariane’s stare, before submitting to it. “Yes.” She sighed yet again. “What else? I mean, who else?” Aurora’s sorrowful eyes fell to her one line of writing. “You’d think once you say no, it’d be over. You’d give it all up and things would return to normal. I always think things will go back to how it used to be. But somehow, that’s never the case, Ari. Somehow, he’s on my mind even more. I’ll never get rid of him until someone else comes along and helps me knock him out of my head.” Aurora’s teeth ground in frustration. Then she deflated again, annoyance diminishing into misery. “Daniel is meant to be left behind, forgotten baggage. I was so sure once I got away from him that I’d be fine. My head told me that. So why does my heart have to have a say in this?”
