BURKE, t.
six days. his reactions had been varied, but guilt stood out, every waking second, every single one of his nightmares - theo felt guilty for being a part of her current pain OR for being a member of the group that murdered her father, which made her spiral into this worthless rebel leader position OR for his own spiraling after the news, his treasonous hidden tears. how dare he question those who’ve taken care of him? how dare he bite the hand that feeds and feeds without asking anything but loyalty back? his FRIENDS? the noise was too loud, and theodore had spent nearly a week trying to drown it out, passing out in the common room couch most nights, high out of his mind, drunk beyond belief. or he’d ran around with other members of the revolution, changing the world one fight at a time, attempting to get a reaction out of those lily potter loved - what was the point of winning if you couldn’t throw a party? he looked worse. worn out. like someone who woke up in war for the first time. there was a sick look to him, even in his grins when someone on the other side threatened him back, and a vague scent of liquor, probably spilled and dried over his uniform.
the potions classroom was his favourite place to smoke, always had been. the cabinets filled with ingredients he should have learned the names of in second year reeked in their own magical way, so all scents disappeared among the rest in there, and smoke, if visible from the outside, wasn’t highly suspected - probably some student burning the contents of his cauldron during class. theo split from some students at the end of the corridor, his smile disappearing the moment they were out of sigh; he was, at last, alone. with his back leaning against the wooden door, the boy searched for the joint in his pocket, mouthing a silent ’shit’ once he realised he’d probably left it on his bedside table. with a properly audible sigh, he waited for a group of hufflepuff girls to fully walk past and then opened the door, sliding himself in before being noticed and closing it back. when he turned around, his mouth opened but nothing was said, as audrey had already welcomed him in.
he should leave. theo always fled at the chance of being in any close courters with his ex-girlfriend, even in large groups. so why were his feet stuck? “ sorry. ” sorry? what the hell am i sorry for? theodore always had the same word saved just for her, no matter the reasoning behind it. after all, he could never be sorry enough for all the hurt he’d caused her, so might as well keep it going, apologise for his existence near her. it did make a certain sense, whenever he forced himself to not acknowledge how it likely wasn’t all HIS fault. there was, however, an undeniable pattern in his life that lead guilt back to him, over and over.
the classroom had a smell to it, not yet overpowered by the herbs in the cabinets. something vile and vulnerable, coming from near that desk she sat in. theo took note of that, of her lonely stance, of the look he’d seen in her eyes, the state of her. emotional intelligence, they’d called it, whenever some well-meaning professor tried to soothe his failing grade. empathy, perhaps? or perhaps they were both living through times few would understand, stuck in a sinking lifeboat. “ i won’t bother you. ” at last stepping away from the door, theo grabbed a loose cigarette and lighter from his pocket and sat on the stone floor, a few meters away from her near the blackboard, letting the smokey silence set in the classroom. don’t say anything. “ so, ” fucking idiot. but he couldn’t shut up himself, never had. “ are you okay? ” did he care? a bit, perhaps.
audrey was thinking --- considering where she was going to put her light out. the smoke trailed in patterns throughout the classroom and the tobacco hissed as she took another drag and something in her wondered what it would be like to put it out right beneath her pretty little tennis skirt, to burn a mark into her perfect flesh. she’d never done that before. marked her skin. she wouldn’t even allow a drop of ink to stain her fingertips. audrey selwyn was perfect, you see, and her pretty little flesh did well to stay untouched. how could her mother wish to ruin that? a twisting, slithering snake on the inside of her forearm was but a mark she wished not to see. it would ruin her image. (in more ways than one.) audrey adored the way her skin gleamed in the sun, when men such as theo would run their fingers across it and shower her in compliments. she’d never liked a man’s touch, but she liked when their tongues spoke words that mirrored the kisses they pressed against her perfect skin. she adored to be adored, in some sense of the word. could anyone love someone who had been tainted?
she thought, perhaps, as she inhaled another puff of that intoxicating smoke, that she could be alone with her thoughts. they were private thoughts, after all --- what use would theodore be to any coherent thought? she’d thought, perhaps, when her pretty little mouth had snapped at his presence that he would leave, but it seemed the boy she’d known her whole life had grown a stronger backbone in the time since they had last spoken. with her mind still running, he attempted to speak, theodore burke never knew when to shut up, and her eyes were trailing back to narrow on his. he should leave while he still had the chance. she was worried, you see, of the burn that was building beneath her eyes. he should leave before she really snapped, because theodore burke had never seen audrey cry and she had no intention of him seeing it now.
“don’t ask questions you already know the answer to, theo,” audrey replied, her words cool and calm with all the sting she reserved for people such as himself. “it’s unbecoming.” shifting herself so she was seated on the table, audrey crossed one leg over the other and adjusted the hem of her skirt as it slipped up her thigh. her elbow was perched on her knee, cigarette dangling between two fingers, and her eyes had returned to the front of the classroom, wishing not to give him any reason to watch as water began to pool in the corners of her eyes.
