Fall In Line

“It is quite the comedy, actually.” Zach said, raising his brows and allowing his previous smile to settle into a straight expression. “And based on a true story, as all the best comedies are.”

“Sounds hilarious.” She replied rather sarcastically with a straight face. “I’ll take your word for it,” Clara replied somewhat bored by the conversation with the wizard. “It actually sounds like a muggle film I’ve heard of I don’t suppose it was the same thing?” Now she was just trying to antagonise the male.  

Hearing the familiar voice, Evan looked up from his place across the room. Hearing the next words move fill the otherwise silent room, Evan raised a brow and turned to face her direction. “You should go thank my mother, if that’s why you’re here.” The wizard said simply. “I hope her style wasn’t too old fashioned for you. I wouldn’t have put my name to anything she bought though, if I had the choice.” He shrugged. “Except the roses – they’re just our calling card.”

The brunette gritted her teeth as she tried to keep the smile on her face. She’d already guessed the gifts weren’t from the male but she just wished he wasn’t so blunt about it. “I’ve already thanked her but it seemed improper not to thank you too.” More like her parents and his own parents insisted she spoke to the male too. “They were beautiful, not something I’d personally wear but beautiful nonetheless.” She insisted, forcing a smile to her face. “Well, I didn’t think you would put your name to anything addressed to me.” 

Clara found herself standing outside of the male’s room trying to build up the courage to push the door open after being forced there by her parents. Mrs. Rosier had already let her into the house and had been pleased to see her, greeting her with a wide smile and a tight hug both of which made the brunette feel awkward. Taking a deep breath to pull herself together the witch gave a light knock on the door before pushing it open as instructed by the male’s mother. “Evan?” She called out as she stepped into the room nervously. The young slytherin hadn’t gotten to know the male properly, the only conversations they’d had were forced pleasantries much like the one they were about to have. “I just wanted to thank you for the beautiful gifts and the poem.”  

Drink to me only with thine eyes And I will pledge with mine. Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I’ll not look for wine.

The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove’s nectar sup, I would not change for thine.

I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much hon’ring thee As giving it a hope that there It could not withered be;

But thou thereon did’st only breathe, And sent’st it back to me, Since when it grows and smells, I swear Not of itself, but thee.

Happy Valentine’s Day. 

E. R.

Accompanying Gifts:

“You say that like it’s my problem? C’mon Clara, if they don’t like it then they should have stayed out of my way in the first place.” Wyatt gave the girl a shrug of his shoulders as he smirked. “Well you could definitely try but we both know what would happen if you did.”

“Not everyone knows you can be a grouch, maybe they didn’t know.” She replied even though she knew it was a losing argument. “And what would that be my friend?”  

“So, then I asked who the fuck he thought he was talking to, and the bastard didn’t even have the decency to reply.” Zachariah sighed, meeting the other’s gaze as the corners of his lips curled up. “Of course, that might have been because he was flat out on the ground.” A light laugh left his lips and noticing the lack of laughter from the other, he clarified: “Dead. He was dead.” The blond said simply with another shrug. 

Clara looked at the male completely baffled by his story, or more importantly how he found the tale funny. “Was that supposed to be funny?” She asked raising a brow. If anything the story had just left the female with questions, and a lot of them though she was undecided whether she’d present them to the male.

“I don’t see why I can’t? What are they going to do, tattle on me?”

Clara hesitated as she tried to think of an answer. “Well they can’t help the way they look, can they? I mean, you could at least pick a better reason to terrorise them.” She tried to reason with the male. “Wyatt, you’re such an ass. I might curse you for them.” The witch replied with an amused smirking pulling at her lips.

A slight smile crossed the male’s lips as he watched the wound heal, leaving only a slight sprinkling of dried blood in its wake. He then shoved his wand back in his jacket pocket, gaze moving back to fall on her face. “Just be more careful next time, okay. I can’t deal with you impaling yourself on something.” Jay laughed lightly, offering her yet another smile.

“I’ll try.” She replied, heat rising to her cheeks out of embarrassment of her own clumsiness. “Though now that I know you’re good at healing if I do ever get impaled it’s you I’ll be coming to.” She warned him with a smirk.

The male then rolled his eyes and dug a hand into his pocket, retrieving his wand. “Broken glass? So you saw a shard of glass and thought it would be a smart idea to go near it?” He laughed lightly, shaking his head at her as he murmured a healing charm beneath his breath. 

Clara gave a light laugh. “Okay, so maybe it wasn’t one of my better ideas but I was trying to figure out what had broken it and then I caught my arm on it.” She explained shaking her head at her own stupidity. Her nose wrinkled slightly as the male cast a healing charm on her arm. “Thanks Jay.” She replied with a smile as she looked down at her now healed arm.

“Don’t be ridiculous Clara, it’s not just a scratch and it’s definitely not fine. What happened? How in the hell did you do this?” Jay asked, his tone panicky as he moved closer to her, his hand reaching out for her arm.

“Jay, relax! Honestly, it’s fine. It’s just a cut, okay?” She told him rolling her eyes as he picked her arm up. She got that he was just concerned but she felt like he was getting worked up over nothing. “I caught it on some broken glass.” 

“You have a face that makes me wish punching people wasn’t frowned upon in our society.”

Clara found herself rolling her eyes at the male. “Leave them alone Wyatt, you can’t just go around terrorising people just because you don’t like the way they look.”

“You keep storing up all that anger and grief. Eventually it spills over. Or you drown in it.”