✧･ﾟ: DEATHLY.* ;; hiatus

       ‘      …    young greengrass.    ’       is all blaise retorts as a response,   his expression unaffected and blank,   even as he sweeps his golden gaze down her attire.   blaise can never go anywhere without a robe or some coat.   he detests cold air   -   or even the potential of it.     ‘     it seems mother would want to spend time with her most recent fiancé,   and flying off anywhere at this point seems rather moot.    are you joining the few for the great feast?    ’     blaise may not seem approachable,   but he can at least be a gentleman.   and escorting a lady to the great hall when need be seems appropriate.   after all,   it isn’t like blaise has got particularly anywhere he’d needed to go,   nor people he’d needed to see.    it’s just one holiday,   and weeks of learning before he’s able to officially take his N.E.W.T.s once and for all.

__________ ♔     THOUGH  MANNERS  SEEM  OUT  OF  THE  QUESTION  WITH  THIS  ONE  IN  PARTICULAR,     SHE  DOES   HAPPEN  TO  APPRECIATE  THE  SUBTLE  HONESTY      with which he makes his statement known.     she is a   sick   girl     a  dying  girl       she does not have   TIME   for silly trifles.     a  quick tilt of the head to acknowledge what he has said,     sharp eyes measuring him     (    once  upon  a  time,     it would have been to see what    use   she could have found.      it   HARDLY   seems to matter much anymore.        this game called life has put her into a corner  &&  has most assuredly left her   sorely  beaten     )   ❛   ah,     your mother certainly has a way with men,     it would seem.       i’ve truly yet to decide whether i will be joining.      conversation may be hard to come by.     most of the classes didn’t return after     ...  ❜      after  the  war.