❪ FUTILITY & FUCKUPS. ❫

MOVED. 

      she makes an faux offended face, then shakes the snow from his hair off his face. she laughs with him to, squeezing him tighter. “whatever. given the chance i think you would.” cathryn was almost tempted to shove a handful of snow down his jacket, but she refrained. she’ll save that for someone else. 

       “revenge for all the times i beat your ass at mario kart.” another laugh, and another kiss on his jawline. okay, maybe she’s trying to weasel her way out of this. “i happen to remember you putting your cold hands under my shirt all the time.” 

       “me? i would never.” she bats her eyelashes at him, feigning her innocence. the facade doesn’t last long however, before she breaks. the snow doesn’t bother her. it’s annoying sometimes and cold as fuck, but it’s better than being hot. some of her fondest memories were in the snow. but she does feel kind of bad, some people just aren’t cut out for snow. 

        her feet crunch in the snow, walking quickly to charlie and throwing her arms around him. cathryn’s like a walking furnace, guaranteed to keep you warm or your money back. “maybe it was cason, he’s sneaky like that. and he looks like me.” 

    ugh. thank god. he wraps his arms around her in turn and tugs her closer. it’s mind numbingly freezing out here. he doesn’t have any idea how she’s always so warm, but he’s definitely not complaining about it now. “stop trying to weasel your way out of this, you dirty little liar.” he shakes some of the snow out of his hair and laughs. 

@fxrger

      cathryn’s a good actor     a great one, really but it’s hard to keep a straight face at the look charlie’s giving her. it’s cute, how much he hates the snow. cathryn grew up with brutal winters, so she’s used to it. thrives in it, despite it not being her favorite weather. but it’s good for throwing snowballs, which is exactly why charlie’s shooting A Look. 

       “oh my god     did you see that dick just totally nail you? he’s gone now, but he totally did it. not me. i swear.” 

    he does not appreciate snow. he hates snow. he loathes winter. he wants to fly back home just to get away from it all. the snowball smacks him in the side of his head, wetting his hair and making him feel ten times as cold as he already does which he’s pretty sure it’s a recording breaking temperature. 

        “ravenclaws don’t do it for ya’? i think frank would find offence to that.” she scrunches her nose up at him, leaning against couch on the floor. she knows he’s just teasing her, like always. not that she’ll complain. not this time, but maybe later she will. 

         her own finger taps against his, brushing back her hair with the other hand. “exciting in what way? like, someone who could change their appearance in a blink of an eye? that’s kind of exciting. fuckin’ weird, but exciting.” for a bit of emphasis, she changes her hair from the blush tone to a white blonde, now hanging on her back with loose curls. “she’s kinda weird though. and not like, the cute quirky. just weird.”

    he huffs a laugh, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger, then lets it go, watching the curl bounce back into place. he’s a little bit jealous she can change her appearance on a whim. it’d be one hell of a cool ability to have. the things you could get away with would be insane.

        “he’s pretty close to one.” cathryn is never involved with the antics most of the time, but she watches from a distance. that’s probably weird, right? absolutely weird. ugh. 

         she turns to face him, she manages to stay in place, but her current hair turns to an all over rose pink shade. it happens when she gets nervous.( and it happens a lot. )  sometimes, sometimes, she really hates her added magical abilities. “       sylvia from charms i think. she’s cute.” she smiles, trying to play coy. “or troy from defense against the dark arts, i heard he likes you.” 

    he pretends to think about it for a moment, politely ignoring the colour of her hair changing. his finger tap, tap, taps against the armrest of the chair he’s leaning against, eyes looking up and away like he’s seriously contemplating her suggestions when he’s just subtly admiring her hair and how cute it is that it matches her blush. 

         there’s a snort at that, black painted fingernail scratching at her nose. hopefully he doesn’t see that faint pink blush running across her nose. “charm? that’s a word for it.” if you call being an ill tempered and borderline unstable person ‘charming’ then sure, yeah, she has charm out the ass. 

         “i think it’s gonna be pretty bad.       maybe. maybe i’ll go. if i can find a dress, or something.” she wants to stop herself from asking, but it slips from her mouth anyways. “are you going with anyone? besides adam.”

   “you make it sound like he’s my boyfriend.” which, to be fair, is an easy mistake to make, but adam’s straight as an arrow. ( though he indulges charlie’s ridiculous behaviour to an almost absurd extent. ) “but no, i don’t have a date if that’s what you mean.” noticing the blush running cutely across her cheeks, he leans closer a little, a little grin fixed in place. 

         she wrinkles her nose a bit, catching her mistake. to be fair, she doesn’t talk to a lot of people and maybe says two sentences a day. so it’s not unusual for her to be kind well, awkward. she finally looks up, giving charlie a shrug. 

          “i don’t think it’ll be fun for me.” it’ll be loads of fun for the rest, but not her, she’s convinced of that. “i don’t think the ball will be much different without me.” 

    “how’re you gonna know if you don’t go?” it’s a genuine question. charlie’s more of a don’t knock it ‘til you try it kind of guy. ( and that philosophy has gotten him into a ton of stupid situations over the years and almost religiously hungover on weekends. ) 

       cathryn has a stash in her bunk of different treats. midnight snacks. she gets hungry a lot. you know, when she does eat. she’s keeping her eyes on the book on the floor, pretending to study. pretending to write sometimes. 

        “uh…piper isn’t going. i think. a few other people that i know of.” a simple, nonchalant shrug with another scribble. “me. i’m not going.” 

    his question was intended to be rhetorical since it seems like everyone is going to the ball so he laughs a little as she starts her answer and it’s literal. it tapers off quickly, though, and a frown replaces the amusement on his expression when she admits to not going herself. 

@fxrger

         the common room is relatively quiet. for now. most students are still at dinner but cathryn ate and left pretty quickly. she wanted to be alone, but there’s worse company than charlie. ( though, she thinks charlie is the best company. ) the yule ball is looming and she’s trying not to talk about it, but the question comes out anyways. “so      are you going to the yule ball?”

    he sort of slept through half of dinner and woke up too groggy to bother going down to the great hall. if he gets hungry later he figures he’ll just sneak into kitchen since it’s just down the hall. no biggie. 

if you wanna do some character building hmu

      she nods against his chest, biting her lip to keep a response at bay. it’s instinct to retort back, to say that she isn’t a good person. she doesn’t deserve praise. another thing she’ll have to work on, among an entire list of things. she has to believe charlie isn’t saying that because he thinks it’d make her feel better, she believes he means it. 

       cathryn’s lived many places over the years. she’s never stayed in one place for long, a habit of being homeless. of life getting in the way. settling down wasn’t really an option for her, until recently. until charlie. it feels like she’s known him forever ( almost three years now. something like that. it’s weird to think about. ) like he’s her best friend along with being her boyfriend. witches around her would often talk about soulmates and she never thought much of it, but maybe there’s some truth to that. she really believes she found a soulmate in charlie. 

        and it’s scary. terrifying. she knows she could be happy with charlie, she was happy with charlie. probably the happiest she’s been in a while. and happiness is frightening. when she gets happy, something takes it from her. at least with the break up, she controlled that. and it was stupid. an act of a fucking child. but she’s here not, that has to count for something right? 

       she won’t ask for forgiveness. she’ll never expect that. she looks up at him, eyes red but a smile present. “i want to try, to.” and she means it. with everything. “i got scared, because i knew i could be happy with you. which sounds, completely fucked up but i    i’m just so used to the anger and all my fuckin’ baggage that i just don’t know who i am without it. it’s fucked up, but i want to try. i want to change.” her hand comes to wipe her eyes, makeup ruined from it all. “i love you. i don’t want to be without you.” 

    that doesn’t make a lick of sense to him. it isn’t that it sounds fucked up ( alright, no, it does sound a little fucked up ) but he simply can’t wrap his mind around the logic that something like that would entail. he knows now it’s probably because of all the mental baggage that she hauls around in her figurative backpack, and sure, he struggles with his own bullshit but he can’t imagine struggling with something like that. 

    ( he was so naive to think that a week in a treatment program would fix anything. ) 

    but that doesn’t make it any less difficult to understand. he sighs, not out of any sense of frustration with her, but with himself for being so thick-headed about this. even if they do try it’s not going to be easy, and he knows it’ll be hard, but he still loves her. and if she still loves him? why wouldn’t they make another effort to fix this? right? all his nervous thoughts slowly creep up, and it’s a physical effort to ignore them for the time being. 

    he shakes his head. “that’s... gonna take a while for me to understand, but i love you, too.” and he’s relieved to be able to say that to her again. his hand comes up to brush against her cheek, wiping away some of the smeared makeup before settling against her skin. after a moment his hand drops and his fingers interlace with hers. the hallway is no place to have this conversation.