#mmharam

@mmharam: “what is it? you look like you have something to request.”

she’s bold. or, maybe, just foolish. foolishly in love is correct. though, ryeon supposes the surge of courage has to come from somewhere. the most obvious being a sly peek of something more. tease of light seeping through the cracks of what was formerly assumed to be an iron fortress. and that, itself, was enough to keep her going.

giddy. greedily. in her approach to lee haram. drinks in the sun in his eyes, warmth peering through the windows, dancing off his skin. marveling, at least, for the briefest of moments, in that his lips part, speaks, directs at her. attention she soaks up far too eagerly. 

ah, you’re so obvious, ah ryeon.

“oh?” ruby lips part, puckering slightly in thought. or surprise. or whatever. that’s the default with her anyway 😗. it diffuses rather quickly, parts way for a hint of teeth, winning smile and all. visibly pleased and she’s sure he knows it. good. 

“i was gonna go pick up some new books and i was wondering if you wanted to come with...” trails off for a quiet beat, having forgotten the points she’d formerly gone over in her head to convince him to come with. what was it? food? sights? grand ol’ time together with her on a date? oh, stop looking at his lips, you. “th—the um, book, we talked about last time. the—uh—the philosophy of the mundane: why the muggles prefer not to know.” ryeon grins. 

cont from here. / written for: @mmharam

it’s not her fault. admittedly, about 64% of things claimed not to be her fault tend to be. but this is one of those scenarios where it genuinely isn’t. at least. not to serin. it wasn’t as if she went looking for trouble, though that was the norm—it certainly won’t ever be this kind of trouble. cornish pixies? practically devil’s spawn. 

but there’s nothing to be done about it if the professor wants her to take them elsewhere to rid of. it had only been nothing else but her own misfortune that one of them figured out how to open the cage. 

from there? a series of shrieks and crashes before she nose dives for her dropped wand. finishes it off with a quick immobulus! to freeze them in their tracks. easy peasy. but—remaining problem? a shift of her right leg brings a hiss to her lips. great.

luckily?ish? introducing today’s(?) white knight(?): lee haram.

but not really. she’s frowns at the chiding, mouth twisted with indignation that doesn’t reach her tongue when he moves instead. blinks in surprise at the sudden change in character. was he having an off day? “u-uh, thanks...”  it didn’t work. she knows it all too well, can tell just as easily from the swish of his wand to the continuous throb in her ankle (though slightly dulled). haram’s not a healer. serin is also nowhere near in the right to complain in this position.

instead she shifts to her feet, disregarding the way her knees shake when she slows to straighten, jaw slightly clenched. “i think it’ll be okay...” spoken true (to blind faith), but she doesn’t dare move it. “i’m supposed to set these free off campus so...” serin gestures vaguely to the pixies, frozen in midair. can’t exactly afford a trip to the infirmary can she? 

but she’ll chance haram’s sudden spur of goodness, hoping maybe he’ll find some pity in her. her fingers reach out to press into his elbow, nudging lightly, cheeks flush with an embarrassed, sheepish pink. 

"you have time, right ‘rams?” 

written for @mmharam

it isn’t often she runs into lee haram. sure. they’re friends (arguably. as in, who’s going to say no if she insists?). but there isn’t a single law in the world that required friends to constantly be in contact. else, she would’ve been jailed for slipping off the face of the earth last year. not the point. the point stands that there is no need out there to constantly be in contact. 

or, in haram’s case, the need to be particularly friendly. serin doesn’t mind. seldom minds. she’s busy herself. has friends herself. and, end of the day, would be used to being by her lonesome.

but what she’s come to learn about him is not equal to what she’s willing to accept. maybe in passing, where greetings are brief and sweet, acknowledgment of each other’s existence. not here or now. where she spots him, crouched in front of the student council office. curiouser and curiouser. 

up to no good, she presumes.

a rare case of mischievousness strikes here. fills her chest with a giddy glee as she makes her way over, footsteps deliberately light and slow to catch him off guard. serin doesn’t even dare breath till she’s behind him, resting one hand on his shoulder and the other on his head (immediately ruffling).