finesse.

just imagining what her mother would say to her getting more piercings has a shiver running down adara’s spine. she has always did her mother’s bidding, never once disobeying her parents, but that really hasn’t stopped her thoughts from wandering towards the what ifs of her day dreams and curiosities. if anything, the slytherin hits the nail right on the head when she says that curiosity is a good thing. “that looks like a safe place to start.” she agrees quietly, choosing her words carefully and weighing their implications on her tongue before releasing them with finality. she bites her lip and watches the way chiara’s piercings glimmer in the light and adara finds herself wanting more and more to have something similar. “if you’re sure that i won’t be a bother then i would definitely like to go with you.” 

the last thing she expects is a conversation striking up, but that’s exactly what happens. one moment she’s ready to simply return to her bed and maybe take a nice power nap, and the next, her fellow sixth year slytherin is in front of her with a curious question. 

she nods her head with a slight smile on her face. anna didn’t think her name was very odd, but she could understand that it may sound new to people, especially with how diverse everybody’s backgrounds seemed to be. heck, some people at the school didn’t even have an english name. while chiara was not one of those, she could understand the curiosity.

“mhm! i just go by anna though because annabelle is a mouthful to say. honestly, i don’t even know how she found out because i don’t remember ever telling her, but if she saw any of my official papers i guess she could know?” only a few knew her full name, and so it remained a mystery as to how the other female ever found out, but there was always a way to things.

chiara hadn’t exactly expected to speak to the girl before her, nor start a conversation involving something of the past (and now no longer existing), but the name annabelle evoked more of a reaction than she would’ve liked. “i...” ( chiara thinks it’s too late to back out at this point, and thinks she should’ve kept her mouth shut. she should have because she hadn’t thought this far. ) “...know someone named annabelle, that’s all. or, well, used to.” 

telling a little white lie – could it even be called that? – wouldn’t hurt anyone. it was true, chiara did ‘know’ someone who went by the name of annabelle. “i just got caught by surprise,” she continues, a nod of her head following. “and found it pretty interesting one of my roommates has the same name. i thought you were just anna this entire time, you know?” she’s laughing it off, albeit very nervously, and looks to the said girl, hoping she’d stop her from talking.

chaeyeon was unable to grasp the idea of someone drowning their sorrows on the bathroom. perhaps, the sentiment behind driving someone to do such thing. then again, it wasn’t on her rightful spot to speak about such when she was prying a girl’s privacy by knocking on a stall. yet, there was part of relief that relinquished her thoughts once her demand was responded with a loud blow followed by a hoarse voice.

the female wondered how much the latter was crying.

her hands release the fist as her other hand grasps the emanating red from palm. as she stares at the stall, her head turns to the vicinity. seeing how empty it was, chaeyeon realized why it would be a good idea to be here instead of the common rooms where people actually could link your actions with a name. her feet going up and down within the spot before hearing a loud collision from the front.

“are you okay?” she inquires once again taking notice it was from the same stall she was waiting to open. her hand reaching for her wand, not before letting out a curt apology. her wand drifts to the lock as she takes a step back, “alohomora.” with the spell enchanted well, the door opens and chaeyeon is greeted by a starfallen girl whose energy seemed to not be found.

she places the wand back in her robes before extending her hand, “let me help.”

if she was sober, chiara would shake her head at how much of a fool she looked like in that very moment – crying her face off in a cubicle of myrtle’s bathroom, probably having outcried the crier of a ghost herself. unfortunately, a drunk mind does not allow her to mull over any kind of embarrassment she should be feeling because there were ‘bigger’ things to cry about... such as her not being able to stand up on her own two feet.

what she's hearing outside the door is heard as faint murmuring, before the door suddenly opens itself, and before the slytherin at this very moment is a seemingly concerned figure, a shade of blue as part of her uniform robes, and an extended hand out to her. chiara, who can only look at the girl in a dumbfounded manner, nods her head childishly and reaches out, fingers curling around the palm of the hand that wasn’t hers and pulls herself out.

“i’m s-sorry,” she stutters out in a slur, laughing either nervously or in a drunken stupor, chiara couldn’t tell. what follows is an “i’m okayyyyy”. the idea of ‘playing it cool’ on a false pretense seemed like a valid way to go about her business. (or so she thought.) “thank yo--” a hiccup cuts her words off. “...sarry. i’m okay now, thank you!” she’s sporting the best smile she can manage and her words say one thing...

Their interactions had begun years before, when they were still both fresh and wide eyed. Jimin had struggled with charms and Chiara had been graceful enough to volunteer her help. A handful of library trips later and he was doing better in classes but a warmth had begun to heat up his chest, a bouquet of flowers had begun to take root. Their tendrils taking stem in his heart, entangling with the veins there and squeezing every time she so much as looked at him. The first time she smiled at him, he could swear that he felt buds growing in a place that he didn’t realize had been so empty and quiet before her. One thing had led to another and Jimin hadn’t realized anyone could make him feel the way she did.

Things were rocky now at best. And while Jimin knows how she might react, he also knows that there are factors that might change her mind or opinion about him and that tears him up inside. The uncertainty of it all, the fear she won’t see his sincerity. “I probably could have picked somewhere else. But I wanted some privacy away from our classmates.” A quiet place for her to turn him down, a chance to pick up the pieces of his pride and heart in private. The tiny insults that come with her words sting and he knows that he should probably back off now. But he refuses to give in, she’s right. He’s incredibly headstrong.

Jimin reaches out with his free hand and gently takes her wrist, drawing her hands out of her pockets. He knows that she can feel the chill on his skin, his fingers like small iceblocks. “I can only imagine what you’re going to say, but I can’t just assume without asking you.” He reaches into his other pocket with his free hand, his fingers gently encircling the sprig of fresh blooming lilacs. Jimin lifts it from the fabric slowly and presents it to her, shielding the flower from the harsh and frigid wind. He smiles softly, a twinge of sadness in the curve of his lips. “Will you go to the yule ball with me?” He twirls the flower in his fingers, his other hand clenching hers so softly, his hold loosening with every passing moment.

there’s a sort of apprehensiveness in the way chiara holds herself together in his presence, heaving out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in her chest. perhaps she was bracing herself for something she wasn’t aware of, a feeling of the unknown brewing in the pit of her stomach. an internal voice inside her says it’s something she shouldn’t be a part of, but she’s quick to push that away. perhaps it’s the choice of venue he chose to meet her affecting her stance and mood. after all, they were in the middle of a december winter. or perhaps it was her earlier errands, finding “the right dress” taking its dreadful toll on her.

or… perhaps it was the idea of being alone with him. the boy she once came to love so much. the first person she learned how to love, and loved with what she could give of her heart. the boy who made her laugh, made her cry, made her smile, made her feel like she wanted to die. she’d taken the fall, her hand in his, and two years of history, of arguments, of raw feelings, of tender moments, of apologies… that took its toll on her. if chiara could sum up jimin in a single word, she’d say he was unpredictable – and perhaps it was the unpredictability of future events beyond this moment was what had her feeling... uneasy.

at the sight of fresh blooming lilacs before her in his hand, she reacts accordingly with widened eyes, in pure surprise, her hand releasing the one she was holding as she lifts them to cover her nose and mouth. now, chiara was no herbologist, nor one to read into the meaning of flowers, but she had a memory on her to recall that lilacs once represented the emotions of a first love – which is exactly what jimin was to chiara, and vice versa. she’s a bundle of nerves and a clusterfuck of feelings, only just managing to register his question. “i…” ( a pause. a moment to contemplate. her better judgement says to decline, but her yearning heart does the talking instead. ) “y-yes… i mean, yeah. i’ll go with you.”

The resounding sound of heels against pavement brings him out of his reverie. Jimin pushes himself to stand up straight, still a little hesitant though. He wonders if he’s going to get his hopes up again only to be surprised by the appearance of another stranger. But it’s definitely Chiara, it’s her voice that pierces the silence that had fallen over the courtyard. It’s also the same voice that seemingly causes his heart rate to pick up. Despite all of that, he feels his lips quirk up into a small smile, only he only seems to wholly belong to her, Jimin forgets the cold that stabs at his limbs and instead ducks his head down, his blood seemingly fills the apples of his cheeks. It only seems to get hotter when her bare hand brushes against his skin before seemingly coming to a halt there. It burns and he bites down on his tongue for a moment, resisting the urge to groan at the lush feeling of heat.

Instead he expands his smile, his eyes falling into small crescents. “I haven’t been out here that long.” He whines hoping to cover up the lie he tells her, but it’s for her own good. He knows that hearing the truth would cause her to be angry at him, angry at his idiotic tendencies. Jimin still remembers the slight arguments they seemed to always fall into. He loses himself to his musings though as he watches her movements, the gloves, and the sound of her voice. He shakes his head and tugs at his bottom lip. “Ah Chi, please. You know I’m not that dumb.” His open palms falls to his side where he clenches them, testing his strength. “I actually called you out here with a purpose, I promise.“

despite feeling the need to be outright angry with him that he stood out in the cold in waiting for her, chiara’s insides feel as if they’re on fire with the way he’s smiling at her, and yet, he hadn’t said a word. the thought of him possibly becoming sick from the cold because of waiting for her clearly didn’t sit well, and she could only hope the hard stare, the furrowed eyebrows, the way her lips scrunch and how her arms fold up across her chest she’s directing at him exuded pure annoyance over his stubbornness. the latter had been one of many causes of arguments they shared in the past, but chiara didn’t come here to argue. she’s only worried, after all. she always was. she can only let out an elongated sigh, a stream of white smoke leaving her lips. 

it’s not even noon, but taeyeon feels as if she’s dying of exhaustion already. had it not been for the class she promised hagrid she would fill in for, the girl would already be napping in her room and hopefully not waking up for a couple of years. caffeine certainly was not helping ( she’s already on her fourth cup ) and neither was the sharp pinches exerted on her wrists in attempt to keep her eyes open. so taeyeon turns to her last resort, opening the locked drawer on her desk.

cautious eyes glance around quickly before sliding the drawer open. a satisfied sigh passes her berry stained lips when her line of vision became full of her childhood and yes, current forever hero. taeyeon reaches out her fingers tentatively to his face only to pull them back sharply when she hears someone at the door. the professor slams the drawer full of her beloved newt scamander posters shut loudly, hoping it wasn’t too late. “uh, can i h-help you?” she curses herself mentally for acting so suspiciously flustered, fingers fidgeting as a grimace formed on her visage.

chiara doesn’t have a clue as to why she has to play messenger, but she’s found herself into a situation she unfortunately couldn’t get out of fast enough – they’re a school of magic, there were surely ways of passing on a message. and what’s surprising on her end is the fact she’s actually on her way to deliver. what is she getting out of going to see a professor she hasn’t spoken to, nor takes a class for? nothing. nothing at all. she’s had to ask around where the professor’s office was, quite literally pulling on the sleeves on students to do so, before she finally gets an answer from a hufflepuff, and with a quick “thank you!” thrown over her shoulder, she’s headed into the direction pointed out to her.

A gust of wind sweeps through the nooks and crannies of the giant castle, screeching past window panes and circling around stone pillars. It carries with it an icy sting, flakes of snow twining in and out of its current. His frame sways against the blistering wind as his nerves grow, a bundle of energy that seems to slowly expand in his chest threatening to choke him. Falling against the arching support of a frigid stone pillar, Jimin exhales and his breath grows into a large white cloud before slowly fading before his eyes. Waiting for over an hour, leaves his hands bitter with the chill, a slight stinging sensation as he plays with his wand, turning it over and over in his hands. 

This morning in a brief bout of courage, he had taken quill to page in a small brown journal he had safely tucked away in his trunk. The message had been short, sweet, and scrawled in his messy writing on the parchment. Meet me in the small courtyard? He had been sure in his plans, movements, confidence. But now he was faltering, slowly finding himself wondering if he should have went about this entire adventure differently. 

Somewhere a clock begins to ring, counting up and announcing the hour in a loud and jarring explosion of sound through the castle. Jimin tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth, a clear sign of his thoughts and nature. He runs his hand over the pocket of his jacket, reassuring himself that the thin, delicate treasure is well hidden and protected. 

she falls, face first, onto her pillow, a long winded groan heard not long after as she settles into the comforts of her own bed, legs dangling off the edge. chiara had been dragged out for the morning to try on dresses for the upcoming ball on a certain roommate’s insistence, despite her own insistence that she wasn’t going. the slytherin wasn’t that interested in the whole idea of attending, and had planned on sleeping, but there were people who planned otherwise. hooray.

spotting a glow from underneath her pillow, she can only recognise that as a written message from jimin, to which she pulls out a leather bound journal, a black cover and the edges of her pages in a golden yellow. once opening, the pages redirect to the newest message, and as she reads it, she closes it abruptly with a groan, tucking it back into her pillow. she wondered why he didn’t use his phone, with the ban of electronic devices being lifted, but had no time to dwell.

chiara eventually pushes herself up, the click-clack of her boots heard along the flooring as she throws her long coat back on, before leaving the confines of her bedroom, through the common room and into the corridors. on arrival into the courtyard, once spotting him, the slytherin doesn’t expect him to look so... cold. a frown settles on her features as she strolls towards him, a “hey” being called out as a thick puff of smoke escapes her lips.

jeonghan impatiently tapped his quill on the wooden desk, although it didn’t feel the same as when he held a pen between his fingers. often he wondered why wizarding schools refused to adopt muggle practices that would make life much easier. quills were a lot of work, and jeonghan dreaded the idea of having to pluck these from an oblivious, innocent gryphon (or a magical creature of the similar sort). these were no ordinary feathers. his mind easily wandered to vast topics that did not involve the reason he dragged lovely chiara out into the transfiguration wing. oh, the wonders of laziness.

upon hearing her words, jeonghan’s head automatically craned to the direction of the girl, contents of her cup untouched. his eyebrows raised, skeptical. with the way she said it, jeonghan would have thought that she found out his ulterior motive for the tea. which, in this case, she definitely did. but jeonghan tried to act subtle, casually responded with a crack of a smile. “but, mon chou, it’s fucking oolong tea. no one puts milk and sugar in fucking oolong.”

with a casual hand, he pushed her cup closer to her, urging her. “just gulp it down in one go. come on. depechez vous. i’m a professional.” an elbow on the table, jeonghan cupped his cheek in his palm, eyes on the girl. he smiled widely, tried not to act any more suspicious than he probably was. the faster she cooperated, the faster jeonghan would do the same. then again, with this little game he could tell she was about to play, study time would be stalled for a little while longer.

“i can always brew you another cup,” he added. “white or rooibos?”

the look chiara spots on the boy opposite her seems rather unchanged in facade as he responds, an abrupt snort coming out of her as a result – unladylike, yes, but not a single fuck was given. unfortunately, she couldn’t laugh as loud as she wanted to, and resorts to calming down, an amused grin on her face. “then you can tell how fucking often i drink tea, innit? i’ve been in england for so bloody long, i’m only used to the thing in the bag.”

though only to appease him, does she lift the cup to her lips, intending on downing it all, but she can only get through a mouthful, her eyes starting to squint and her mouth scrunching up. “yeah, nah, i-- look, i’m not trying to diss your tea brewing skills, this is just not my kind of tea.” silence washes over them, teeth raking over her lower lip idly, and it isn’t until he offers to make another cup, does she speak. “whichever’s the good shit, i don’t mind.” 

reaching for her own journal of notes she’d placed to her side, reddish-brown in colour and untying it by its leather strap and pulling, a thin stack of parchment with her scribbles are seen tucked away in a pocket to the side, while pages much neater in appearance, with legible handwriting and neatly drawn diagrams in coloured ink, are bound to the middle, arranged accordingly by lesson on its respective date.

the night sky illuminated with starlight is said to have been inspiration for the best of minds, and kris finds himself falling into the clutches of its spell far too often. when sleep just won’t come and phobetor claws at the backs of his eyes he seeks solace in nyx herself, choosing to blanket himself in her darkness and find safety between the cusps of her stars.

sneaking out has become easier as the years have gone by, or those who patrol the grounds at night have simply stopped caring about the idle and lost sheep like himself. winter cloak drawn close around his throat he steps out into the brisk midnight air of the courtyard and draws in a deep lungful of frigid air. his breath escapes his lips in a light plume of smoke and disappears into the darkness.

a twig snaps and his head whips around instinctively.

cautiously, and with hesitance interlaced into every pull of his muscles, he slips his fingers into his pocket to wrap around his wand. he takes a step back until he’s grazing the castle walls and holds a breath as it draws closer; if it’s a teacher, he can’t risk being seen outside after curfew. his legs are tense, ready to book it if needs be.

tonight is another night in which slumber does not meet chiara halfway. her body feels exhausted but her mind is on a different wavelength, thoughts racing relentlessly in her head, leaving her unable to close her eyes. and so, she’s making her way through the commons and out of the slytherin dungeons, navigating her way out of the castle as if it were second nature. 

gloved hands tighten the coat around her, the soft pitter-patter of her footsteps heard along the pavement as she leaves a corridor and enters a side of the courtyard – until she stops dead in her tracks, her shoe getting caught in a stray branch. she winces, beginning to look from left to right around if anyone had heard that, a quiet “shit!” escaping her lips in worry.

in a haste move, she’s racing into the nearest corridor, ducking into the shadows as she braces herself against the wall in the event someone – or anyone – would’ve seen her. she would watch and wait, until the coast seemed clear. well aware she was not meant to be outside the dormitories this late at night, she wasn’t intent on being caught by anyone on patrol duty. 

that is, until she finds herself backed up against something – no, someone – and she’s almost about to scream, drawing her wand out almost on instinct to cast a spell, but she’s too overwhelmed and only a bright yellow light flashes instead, much like lumos. having caught a glimpse of his face and how much taller he was, she blinks. she's seen him before.

the tips of her ears feel hot against the sides of her head as the embarrassment of being acknowledged washes over her. she really hadn’t planned for her comment to stem into an actual conversation but now her curiosity is more than piqued and it seems like the slytherin is very much willing to provide her with answers. “i’ve been pondering it.” she answers honestly albeit a little shyly. her answer comes as a surprise even to her own ears for it really isn’t something she has ever said out loud. “both my ears are pierced but i think they’re kind of boring? i was thinking of starting with just one ear first…”