Yes or Yes? Pv Nicholas McCowan

It was a day like any other as far as Nicholas McCowan was concerned. Most of the last month had been spent with the Fall Ball committee, putting together plans for the upcoming event of the season. To say it was trying would be an understatement, having to deal with Carrington was painful enough, but the fact that Ranvier had also, somehow, been invited to the select group of students made it near unbearable. Were it not for the influence of the other students, he probably would have flamed out of the team many weeks prior. Yet, thus far, there had been no major hiccups. In fact, they had finally seen fit to announce the date of the festival itself. There was a sort of smug satisfaction that came with seeing the excitement bubble and knowing he had played some part in its development. Many of the students had taken to seeking out dates among their cohort, many of the upperclassmen committed to impressing their partners through the planning of intricate and elaborate outfits. In spite of his hesitation, he found himself growing rather proud of the event the committee were putting together.

But even with that feeling, he could not stomach the common room being abuzz with giggling and rumours about who was crushing on whom. So he’d seen fit to make himself scarce, wandering without purpose out of the fifth floor den and out into the campus. Perhaps he’d find an opportunity to grab some fresh air and think over some things. Not that there was really much to think over, he may have been involved in more than his fair share of arguments and fights, but for the most part he had gone out of the way to instigate them. For one of the scant few times in his short life, he was relatively sure of where he stood. At least in most matters.

As if summoned by some misbegotten devil, that very same matter that confused him so thoroughly appeared in the corridor. Aurora Ranvier was brunette, her pastel hair apparently reverted to its natural shade. He dared not look at her, for that normally tempted some form of response. It was without use, for she immediately called his name. Could he just ignore her hail? It would be so easy, he could just continue to walk. He could pay her no mind. Yet, he did not. She spoke with a sort of dejectedness that he had not ever expected to see from the girl who so often bounced off the walls as if possessed by a pixy. She was downcast.

He sucked at his teeth, pondering what exactly that could mean, entirely oblivious to the shaking of her hands and what could be meant by her assertion that they needed to talk. All he could gather was that she normally was overly excitable, and for once, she was not. Perhaps, he could still walk away, could still make himself scarce. Instead, he took the envelopes from her extended hands. Any possible reason as to why she had prepared letters for him was lost, and curiosity begged him to open them.

He was wordless as he did so, a sole eyebrow quirk serving as proof enough of his scepticism, her telltale signs of nervousness missed as he instead turned inward. Nicholas, like so often before, lost himself in his own thoughts.

Soon after, he lost himself in reading the letter.

The apology took him by surprise, and the sincerity of the words only added to that emotion. It was a side to the girl that he hadn’t seen before, perhaps a side that he had wilfully ignored in his anger. He had been relying upon the rage as a crutch, funnelling it in some sort of attempt to bolster himself and his own lack of confidence. Had it blinded him so thoroughly to what the girl was trying to say and to do? She had cast slugs at him and blamed him for all that had gone wrong, true, but she was also apologising for those actions. Could he forgive her for such? Should he forgive her? Where the letter had alleviated his confusion in some areas it only drastically added to it in others. She was asking him to the ball on a date, after she had kissed him. Was it her way of apologising for the way that she had treated him? For the sheer and utter confusion that she had heaped upon him waves? But why? It wasn’t as if she particularly liked him, was it a pity invite? He didn’t exactly love the idea of receiving pity from a girl who he associated more with rainbows and screaming than anything he held particular respect for. Yet, in spite of his assurances that he disliked the girl, in spite of her apology, in spite of the butterflies that rose throughout his stomach, he could not bring himself to actively hate her. Not anymore. His emotions were far more confused by that. Why was he blushing? What was the feeling in his chest that threatened to tear his heart in twain with how rapidly it beat.

His eyes rose from the letter, and instead turned to the fidgeting girl before him. He didn’t hate the idea of going to the ball with her on principle. She was cute. Not that it meant anything of course, it was just a factual observation. Besides, maybe it meant that they could bury the hatchet. Having to constantly look over his shoulder to see if the diminutive Ravenclaw was nearby was tiresome. Besides, it seemed their entire feud had been built upon her social awkwardness, she did not hold genuine hatred for the boy. Whatever emotion she may have felt, he did not know, but at least he knew it wasn’t loathing.

Nicholas returned his attention to the letters, namely that in the purple envelope. Where the first had been a touching bit of prose, the second was far more akin to what he had expected from the girl. Bright in colour, with playful references to her skills. Despite himself, he found himself smirking at her admission of her failure to prevent herself from screaming, and that smile only widened at seeing that she was working on it. Nicholas McCowan so often tried to put up a front, desperately tried to appear cooler than he was, but in spite of himself he was genuinely touched by the effort that she had put into the ball proposal. He would be a right proper git to throw it back into her face after she had so genuinely apologised and made overtures to end their feud. It seemed that she wanted to be friends after all. Considering the sheer number of fights he was getting into as of late, Carrington, Jupe, Pride, mayhaps a friend would be a welcome break from the chain of enemies he was building. Besides, she had listed that she dueled Carrington previously, and that was fine enough in his book. He hadn’t the pleasure of meeting Taylor Swift, but he supposed that she was likely one of Aurora’s friends, perhaps the one that prompted her to apologise.

Nicholas folded the letters neatly, returning them to the envelopes and placing them neatly in the back pocket of his jeans. For a moment too long, silence lingered, as he thought about what to say.

“I’m sorry too,” He finally said, “I shouldn’t have pushed you into the mud…”

Then, for seemingly the first time, he did not offer a glare to the girl. Truthfully, he did not know whether the chaotic mix of emotions meant, he didn’t understand why he was nervous nor why he was blushing. All he knew was that he was grinning, stupidly, the ever present frown on his face cracked by joy.

“You know what?” He started again, “Sounds like fun, I’d love to go to the ball as your date.”

Part of him wanted to hug her, but that would be inappropriate. After all, her letter had said that she wanted to go on a date as a friend, had it not? Instead, he extended his hand offering to clasp it in an entirely too-professional handshake.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t don’t like you,” He added, “Friends?”

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Aurora Ranvier
Action: You did want to go as friends, right?

Her hair is brown

Banner made by Winnie Harper

Mentioning None

Interacting with @Nicholas McCowan

Silence. The atmosphere was almost suffocating amidst the empty corridor. Some sounds from the paper, then back to the stiffening stillness. This was worse than being in a chamber with a cursed doll that thought Aurora was her beloved mother. Not even a second she dared to open her eyes. For all she knew, the disheveled boy could have left since the moment the letters came in contact with his fingers just like what happened in her dreams for three consecutive days prior to this moment. Ironic, isn’t it? Even in her dream Nicholas still doesn't want the rainbow and chocolate obsessed girl there.

Time usually moves too fast. It was an exception at that moment. The thought of him actually running away from the scene without even bothering to say a single word was enough to make her want to cry. However, She did realise that crying will not solve or change his final decision. That and her remaining pride subdue the yearning of both her eyes and feelings to just let it all out. Things don’t always go as originally planned, which was the reason why she mentally prepared herself for the worst that could happen. Being an overthinker used up most of her energy. Why stress about something that doesn't even happen? Just like her step father would say, ‘keep it positive’, maybe trying would not do any harm. She didn’t know what kind of childhood Nicholas was in, where he grew up, and his blood status. Never once someone’s bloodline became an important part of a person, though, something changed that. Somewhere around her first year, a lifetime opportunity was given to her to interact with a secluded pure blood, barely had contact with muggles or muggleborns, and did not even know what a pen is. What an interesting case that one was. Let’s think of it this way. The Gryffindor is a pureblood, the kind that thought muggles are prehistoric people who live from cave to cave and are unworthy to step on the earth. Let’s say, the one that invented letters was a muggle, therefore, no writing or reading for him. Thus, made him illiterate. That makes so much sense on why he still doesn't say anything, he must be bewildered by the beautiful shapes of the ink.

As impossible as it may seem, better be unable to read than be rejected out of disgust. Out of that many people in Hogwarts, why must it be him? The one who showed little to no interest towards her, the one who puts her secondary, or worse, not even in the priority list. It felt like hours since the letters had been handed, he still said nothing. Baseless hates that started the unintelligible feeling became the regrets she hoped to undo. Had she not put her hope beyond reach, it wouldn't be that painful when it fell to the ground. The absence of the sound may be her cue to leave and hide her face forever. Even the daily meditation couldn’t relieve the spiraling anxiety. This is stupid, make it stop.

And finally, he spoke. No one saw that coming, not Aurora, of course. It was a plot twist. Lectures about how wrong her behaviour, dramatic letters ripping and aggressive stomping were what she had expected to come after the long pause between them. A good news, things were finally working out, unlike a couple of months ago when nothing did. The second the light came back to her vision, a rare view was the first thing she saw. The awkward, idiotic ear to ear smile that only happened once every blue moon. If only technology worked just fine in this ancient world, she would capture the moment. Imagine how many pictures she had of Nicholas. Maybe just don’t, I don’t want to creep you out. Remember when the girl said whatever she was feeling is stupid? She took that back, not stupid at all. Not only Aurora got a yes, the Gryffindor literally said that he’d love to be her date. Undeniably a big win. He may see her stunned at his words and looking as dumb as he was, but inside, she was dancing in triumph. This was what her inner self would say, ‘HECK YEAH! NICHOLAS IS MY DATE! NOW LET’S CELEBRATE IT WITH A NEVER ENDING HUG! WOOOOOHHHOOOOOOOOO’

“Y-you’d love to?” Just two blushing kids who once had a feud with each other. Funny how things could change rapidly in such a short amount of time. Stolen stares and sheepish laugh, it was her reflect that made her almost jump and hug the boy, but somehow she stopped and stiffly patted his upper arm. “-I w-wasn’t really expecting you to say yes, so- uh- th-thankyou” Now her hands were empty. They needed to do or hold something. So she just cracked her knuckles repeatedly, still smiling like an idiot. “S-so, are we going as a d-date? Or uh- or as a friend?” Something interesting must be somewhere on the ground because once again, it pulled her eyes down like a magnet. Her eyes are still intact, don’t worry. “I mean, would be great if as a date but I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything so it’s up to you, r-really.” Just say as a date Nick, or she would refuse to believe otherwise, so nothing could change that. With him as her ball date, it wouldn’t be hard to keep him from dangers that might come. The bunny monster from the underworld probably would be there, better stock her pepper spray from now on. Should she steal the shield and armour from the corridor and put it on Nicholas? Tonight should be used to scheme her armour heist. Anything to keep the boy safe. But for now, let’s admire the beauty of the grumpy boy. “Y-you should smile more. I-it looks good on you.”

Sta - 5 | Eva - 8 | Str - 5 Wis - 8 | Arc - 4 | Acc - 10 Terrible Presence Evasive Maneuvers

Outfit Reducio Brown sweater and black legging

His mind raced, the thoughts shot past with such speed and intensity that he could barely make any sense of them, a blur of colours and emotions that he didn’t even bother trying to comprehend. Usually, such confusion would bring him anger, frustration and rage at his inability to master his emotions, yet for once he chose to bask in the glow of the conflicting feelings. He was all of a sudden terrified, terrified of making himself look a fool or possibly terrified of what the feelings meant as a whole, but he was also excited, that was a sensation that he could not place the root to. Maybe it was just seeing her reaction to his answer. He’d grown so accustomed to seeing her become flustered as she yelled that he hadn’t even considered the possibility that her blush could be cute if it were put toward another emotion. She seemed genuinely embarrassed, stammering in her answers, and he couldn’t help but feel the same way. His own fiery blush extended further across his features, his heart beat threatened to rip the organ out of his chest, the whole situation was entirely foreign.

Then she continued to speak, and it was his turn to stutter. Did… did she just ask him out on a date? A date date? Wait, that meant that she hadn’t been asking him as a friend, she had just provided that there were two options, to go as a friend or to go as her date, and she was leaning toward the former, did that mean that she liked him? But she had cast slugs at him? Was that just some elaborate ploy to get him to notice her? Was that why she had kissed him? The questions poured constantly out into his mind, acting as bulls in the proverbial china shop, shattering the precious things he had once called his own thoughts.

He opened his mouth, yet no words came out. A nervous laugh followed and he realised how stupid he must have looked, how stupid he felt.

Finally, he managed to choke, “A date?”

His eyes widened, his blush deepened, his smile extended. Aurora Ranvier may have been mentally cheering, but Nicholas McCowan’s mind was an absolute mess. He couldn’t begin to guess at her thoughts, for he had no way of even understanding his own. He had thought he had hated her, any other emotion had been needlessly confusing, and now she was here to ask him on a date. He was at a loss as to how to react.

“I-” He started, “I-, uh, yeah?”

He’d spoken before he could even think. It was only after the last syllable had left his mouth did he realise what he’d said, what he’d agreed to. A date, a quite literal date, not just a burying of the hatchet but a bonafide romantic engagement. He’d never even thought about dating before that point, never even considered what girls were as creatures other than rather cute to look at, yet here he was, going to a ball, a real fancy occasion, with a girl who he liked.

A girl he liked?

That thought alone was enough to send his emotions into a further spiral. Was that what he had been so confused about up and until that point? Had he harboured a crush on her the entire time? He didn’t know… He couldn’t pretend to even start to know. In any event, all this constant thinking as to his mental status was distracting and confusing, and there was a very real girl in front of him who he had just agreed to go on a date with.

A girl who had just said he looked good when he smiled. Immediately, his mind whirled into a tempest of noise and embarrassment once more, his smile only increasing in width.

“Uh, thanks,” He responded sheepishly, “You look good too, your hair does.” He rubbed at the back of his head, awkwardly, “I mean it always does… no matter the colour.”

Jesus Christ, what was he saying? What was he doing?

“I mean you just always look good, I suppose,” He screamed at himself as he spoke, aghast at his complete lack of ability to filter his words.

Why did he hate her again? Oh, right, the confusion of feelings. That same confusion that had swung hard in the other direction. God, he didn’t understand Aurora Ranvier.

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Aurora Ranvier
Action: Enemies to Lovers, 40k, Slowburn

Her hair is brown

Banner made by Winnie Harper

Mentioning None

Interacting with @Nicholas McCowan

A date

She got a date

But what is a date? Hopefully it would be the opposite from the disastrous triple date. As a sucker for romcom movies, her expectations were a little too high. Here are some glimpses of what she wanted to happen. Nicholas would be there first, rejecting everyone that is begging to dance with him, but he is only waiting for a particular girl, and one girl only. Then it would be her cue to come in, with rosy cheeks and a nice dress. For whatever reasons, he looked up and in awe of her beauty. A pair of chocolate brown iris connected with the other brown eyes of Aurora’s, from across the room, grins are appearing in their eyes. Tachycardia would hit both of them as the Gryffindor says something along the lines of ‘you look beautiful’. Unknowingly getting closer to each other, slow dancing under the fairy lights, and maybe end the night with a kiss on the cheek because a kiss on the lip is disgusting. In her mind, It must be like making potion but with mouths. Even thinking about that made her gag. The answer to why anyone would do something like that would always remain a mystery. Perhaps they just don’t really care about hygiene. Coming from someone who accidentally brushed her teeth with a toilet toothbrush once, those who had their kisses should take it personally.

The next hypothetical scenario would be him waiting for her to come down the Ravenclaw tower while probably thinking to himself why did he agree to do this in the first place. But once Aurora appears on the top of the staircase, all of his doubts instantly vanish into thin air. Just for plot purposes, the girl would fall down the stairs in slow motion, and of course, being a gentleman, Nicholas would rush and catch her in bridal style. They would speak eye to eye, as the moment froze for at least one full day. A realisation of the position they are in, two flustered faces would follow afterwards. Long story short, both kids would live happily ever after in a cute pink cottage with their unicorn pets that they both love tremendously. She even got names for their future pets such as Pink Sushi, Watermelon Sunshine, and The Happy Version of Nicholas or Nicholas McMuffin the Second.

That was exactly what happened inside the brain of Aurora Ranvier. On the outside, it seemed like nothing could ever wipe the smile that the boy caused. It would be impossible to notice her making a ‘yes’ gesture and shriek a little as he agreed to be her date for the night. “I-I’ll tr-try my best to not annoy you too much, o-or maybe at all! Y-yeah.” And for the first time in forever, someone other than her mother complimented her appearance. She was not prepared for the outcome. God I want to pass out. Uncontrollable awkward laughter could be heard despite the absence of the joke, along with her weird body movements as if she really needed to pee. “T-thankyou”

Every single event she attended, the girl was dateless. But that did not mean she didn’t silently observe the others who arrived as a couple, whether it was genuinely platonic or not. Most of them wore outfits with a similar vibe. A question wouldn’t hurt, although she was almost ninety percent sure that the boy would just wear any fabric on his body the night before. Honestly, it would not be a surprise if he shows up at the ball in his pajamas. “Do you have any plan on what you will w-wear? I t-think I have some plaid pattern dresses in my trunk, s-so if you want to use flannels I think I c-could match you if you’d l-like that.” Was it too much? Getting on his good side was hard. Aurora was literally terrified that he would treat her like he did before. So she always tried to be in her best self, at least whenever he was around. A tiring job, could be mentally and physically draining, but it was something that she needed to do in order to prevent him slamming the door on her face. “S-sorry I’m just very nervous, I ne-never done this before.”

Sta - 5 | Eva - 8 | Str - 5 Wis - 8 | Arc - 4 | Acc - 10 Terrible Presence Evasive Maneuvers

Outfit Reducio Brown sweater and black legging

The girl moved and shifted awkwardly, equally odd laughter joining the sort of shuffling dance and her stuttering speech. Even Nicholas, as absolutely daft as he was in reading body language, could garner that she was excited and more than a little awkward. Pieces of the puzzle continued to slowly shift together in his mind’s eye, the reason as to why she had accosted him with spells and shouts, before kissing him. Simply put, she was about as ungraceful and unrefined a girl that he had ever met, her earlier interactions, her near-certain attempts to force him to hate her had actually been rather inept attempts to get to know him. Were he more confident, perhaps he would have even hazarded a guess that she had some form of crush on him, but that hardly seemed right. He was about as average as one could get, firmly unassuming in his endeavours both academic and not. Still her stuttering and excitement were positively infectious, and his toothy grin stretched so wide that it threatened to rip apart his furiously blushing cheeks.

Nicholas’s head was awash with all sorts of confusing thoughts, not the least of which was a formless, immaterial sense of joy. So quickly had his foul mood been cast asunder, the veritable assault of emotions had stampeded over his former hatred of the girl, the relative speed of the situation having trampled all in its path. Everytime he could come close to formulating a proper thought, he was almost instantly overthrown by the sight of the girl smiling, or the sound of her voice as she stuttered out a question. His attempts to rationalise what was going on and how he had so quickly been captured in her web would vanish from sight once more as he fought with the pink fog that filled every inch of his conscious mind.

Instead, he spent the entirety of his cerebral capacity trying to navigate his way through the conversation. Desperately, he attempted to answer her questions in a way that did not betray to her that he was an absolute idiot who had no clue what was going on and had no concept of how to speak to a girl.

Nowhere was that more evident than in the fact that he had not even begun to consider matching outfits for the ball. Truthfully, he hadn’t put much thought into outfits at all. He had been intending to just find the nicest pair of clothes that he could wear comfortably, and that were relatively clean. That would probably mean another pair of jeans and perhaps a shirt with at least two buttons. But, Aurora was a girl, and that meant that she thought about things like fashion, and looking good, and probably smelling good. Had she smelt good when he had pulled her into a bear hug? His already vibrant cheeks grew even redder at the thought and he hastily focused instead on the question that had been posed.

“Oh, oh yeah,” He blurted, “Yeah, matching sounds good. I hadn’t put much thought into it, into what to wear I mean. I suppose, yeah, matching would be good. Flannels, too, or plaid, yeah, that’s on theme, isn’t it?” The words were rambling, and flowed out of his mouth accompanied by his accent at its absolute thickest, the broad Ulster brogue threatening to overpower his tongue as his brain took a backseat, “I suppose, if you have a dress in mind, then I can find something that matches? I’m sure I have at least something, maybe, that will look good enough to go with you, I mean for me to wear while I go with you.”

Nicholas may not have been the most socially apt, but he was normally at least somewhat skilled at putting words together, or at least choosing words that made him seem to have at least a modicum of intelligence. That talent had been entirely shattered.

At least she too seemed to be out of her depth, her apology had served as proof enough of that. They were both amateurs then, entirely new to this whole ‘planning a date with someone who up until that point you had entirely convinced yourself that you loathed’ thing. Why did it have to be so difficult? So confusing?

“Me neither,” He offered as some form of comfort, “I don’t even know where to start, or what to do, or what we’re supposed to do…” He trailed off.

He sheepishly ran a hand through his long brown hair, catching a knot or two as he did so. He would probably need to actually make sure that the matted mess that adorned the top of his head actually looked presentable now that he had a date. A date.

“Um,” He said, rather weakly, “I really have no idea what to do. I suppose I’ll come and walk you from the Ravenclaw Tower? Then, uh, I guess we go to the ball. Do we hold hands or something?”

The last question left his mouth unbidden, and he was entirely unaware that he had spoken it aloud. As far as Nicholas was concerned it was one of many questions that danced around his skull, bouncing off the walls in a sort of confusing crescendo as the boy tried to comprehend exactly what was being asked.

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Aurora Ranvier
Action: howmst do I date?

Her hair is brown

Banner made by Winnie Harper

Mentioning None

Interacting with @Nicholas McCowan

Nicholas was definitely better than he thought himself. Yes, he wasn't the best spell caster, but his worth was more than that. Sitting on the highest shelf was him, no matter how bad his fashion choice was, nothing could ever make Aurora's eyes wander. At least not until her obsession finally died down which won't likely happen anytime soon. “You can wear anything! Really! I mean, it’s you who I want to go with, not your outfit, so it doesn’t matter what you will wear.” Before the harvest theme was decided for the ball, she was planning to wear something more related to her lost culture, the one that her mother handmade just for her, with that golden and black beads all over, along with the flowing batik pattern skirt. It was the most beautiful thing she had, but probably wouldn't fit the theme nor her flannel suggestion. "I have a red plaid dress, I could wear that, w-would that be fine?"

Truly a gentleman, that boy. Too bad she wasn't ready to spend that long journey to get into the tower with him, not when he would witness how much time she needed to get into the common room just because of the obnoxiously hard riddles. For her own sake, she frantically shook her head. “N-no no you don’t have to!” They weren't there yet. Though everyone would see it crystal clear that Aurora wasn't that bright, it had to be done to protect her remaining pride.

"Do we hold hands or something?"

YES OMG YES! “Y-you want to hold hands?” Blame the excitement, because right after he asked that question, Aurora held out one of her hands, hoping that her romance dream would come sooner than expected. “I guess, s-s-su-sure.” It was a bit of a misunderstanding, the hand holding would come into fruition during the ball. Technically, their relationship was still a couple of friends that will be on a date once. It's a one time only date, even though she secretly hoped it would be a forever kind of date. Once she was finally able to process the full question, it was clear that Aurora is indeed a human form of embarrassment. “Oh wait you mean not now, sorry.”

Another new goal for her bucket list, touch and style Nicholas' curly hair. The fact that he caught a knot or two went unnoticed as she was way too focused on imagining the softness, bounciness, and fluffiness if she would have the life opportunity to run it through her own fingers. It fell into places, framed his face, and moved in perfect motions. Well, not ten out of ten like her own locks because perfection was only hers to claim, but one level below her still a good rating. What is it like to be the chosen one? the one that could play hair salon with him? If a three wishes genie would come out of nowhere, that would be one of the wishes. Man bun would look amazing on him, or not. Perhaps braid, or just let it the way it usually was. Just a little amount of curl defining cream, and he will be good to go. If a patronus could take any form, it would be Nicholas McCowan's exquisite hair.

"Okay, so.." Being an inexperienced twelve year old, dating was an unknown knowledge. Just a couple of minutes before, apologetic words were thrown at the boy, and now, she was about to do the exact same thing. The height difference made Aurora jump in order to give him a big fat mwah on the cheek.

Accuracy roll
(If needed, feel free to auto dodge or auto success or roll if you want)
7 + 10 = 17

Whether it would land perfectly or not, the redness on her face would intensify, followed by mutters of sorry. "OKAY! SORRY! THANKS FOR AGREEING TO GO WITH ME! BYE! SEE YOU LATER!" The next thing she would do is run like her life depends on it while making a weird little high pitched sound.

Sta - 5 | Eva - 8 | Str - 5 Wis - 8 | Arc - 4 | Acc - 10 Terrible Presence Evasive Maneuvers

Outfit Reducio Brown sweater and black legging

Nicholas nodded, the movement was stiff, awkward, and entirely betrayed his feelings. He was so ridiculously out of his depth that he could not even begin to fathom how he was supposed to come up for air. It was a near miracle that he hadn’t drowned in the veritable pool of confusing thoughts and emotions that surrounded his inevitable date with Aurora Ranvier. Not an hour earlier, he had been convinced that he hated the girl, and now he found his legs turning to jelly at the prospect of escorting her to the ball. Even something as stupid, really, as wearing coordinating outfits caused his heart to skip a beat. Nicholas’s affection for flannel hadn’t truly been born out of a desire to look fashionable, he had never put much stock in the look of the fabric nor in how his seemingly trademarked shirts had come to define him to many of his peers, rather he had always dressed for comfort. And, he supposed a part of him knew, in some childish rebellion against the upper-class crust that seemed to cling to wizarding society like a disease. Now, a girl was offering to match her own sense of fashion to his own. A girl whose existence was confusing enough for Nicholas to comprehend in its own right, let alone her desire to act like a couple with him.

“Y-yeah,” He stuttered, catching himself quickly on the missed syllable, “That would be great.” Thankfully, Nicholas owned about three different shirts patterned in red plaid, the nicest one of which could surely be put to the test.

“And don’t worry, it’s the least I can do,” He rubbed the back of his head once more, playing with the tangle of knots that had matted at his neck.

Although, playing with his locks was forced to take a backseat at the girl’s response to his question with regard to holding hands. Instinctively, the boy found himself taking a half step back, her enthusiasm overwhelming, before he mentally forced himself to halt, to freeze in place. His hand stuck in mid-motion, a couple of strands of dark hair entwined around his fingers, his heel raised ever so slightly off the floor. It would be entirely inappropriate to seem offended by the idea of holding hands straight away, wouldn’t it? It would, right? That just wasn’t done. The embarrassment that expressed itself upon the girl would find itself its counterpart upon the boy.

Nicholas hastily tried to correct himself, words flowing before he could properly think about what he was saying. Months of attempting to harness some form of filter had garnered entirely lacklustre results, it would seem, for the boy positively fumbled as the stream of consciousness left his mouth, “Oh, no, I mean, we can now, if you want to. I wasn’t really thinking. Wait, you mean you want to? I- yeah, ok, yeah.” He tugged at his hair, the pain drawing his consciousness back to the present, “Yeah, ok.”

Thoughts as to touching his hair seemed to become the common thread between the thought process of the two twelve year olds. Granted, Nicholas’s idea of touching to idly fiddle with his ever-expanding curls without much thought nor notice, and the concept of brushing it or braiding it were so foreign to him that the words may as well have been written in Sanskrit. Equally foreign was the kiss that would come. Perhaps, his experience with receiving a kiss on the cheek from the girl should have forewarned him to its coming, but, alas, it seemed the boy had not learned from past experience.

Before he could react, the girl was upon him, literally jumping to kiss his cheek. For a second or two, he simply froze once more, the engine that was his mind short-circuiting at the sensation. He stayed there, frozen in place, as his energetic date, date, apologised for the action and then took off into the proverbial sunset.

It was only after her peculiar high-pitched sound had faded into the distance that the reality of the situation settled upon Nicholas. He had been kissed again. He had a date. He may, perhaps, have a crush on Aurora Ranvier.

The boy’s face deepened to an even darker shade of red, such a colouration that had up and until that point been a physical impossibility.

Oh.

Oh no.

Stats: STA: 12 | EVA: 6 | STR: 8 | WIS: 6 | ARC: 4 | ACC: 6
Abilities: Foulplay | Statistically Relevant
Tags: @Aurora Ranvier
Auto-success on the kiss
FIN