Finished In Memoriam PV Viva

Speech: #008000

Worried she did something wrong.
@Matthew Campbell

Viva knew that this moment was magical. This was so different from anything she had ever experienced in her young life, she didn't know what was happening or what in Merlin's name she was feeling. All she knew was the faint buzzing in her ears and the warmth in her heart, and the strange sense of wonderment that had come over her as she watched Matthew. She blinked, once, twice. "Miraculous?" she murmured. What did that mean? She was just an ordinary girl, a stubborn, thoughtful, sometimes awkward girl who by no means thought of herself as miraculous. Tilting her head slightly, Viva's breath hitched in her throat as she stared back at him, completely enveloped in his gaze. Her hands trembled as she leaned forward, and she could barely hear anything except the buzzing in her ears. Mind racing, heart pounding, Viva had no idea what she was feeling.

Suddenly she froze as she detected Matthew's apparent distress. What had she done? Without removing her gaze, she carefully tried to discover the cause of this sudden panic. Her eyes widened as he crashed backwards, and she let out a gasp of surprise, jolting in shock. What was happening? Had she done something? Viva felt reality crash back down around her, and the magical moment was gone. Heart racing, she stared up at the boy, confused and a little afraid. He looked strange and wild, so different from a few mere minutes ago. Anguish filled her mind, and she suddenly had the urge to cry. He had seemed so happy... until he had seen her drawing. Did he not like it? Viva couldn't understand why a drawing might make one react in this way. She hadn't thought it that hideous. Was he terribly offended? Or was it nothing to do with the drawing at all, and to do with her? Had he realised that she was not worthy of his time?

Jumping to her feet as Matthew rubbed his hands on his trousers, Viva's eyes were large and scared. She reached out as he began to cough, worried, then pulled her hands back. Maybe he didn't want her to help him. "Sick?" she managed in a strange hoarse voice entirely unlike her own. "Go?" Her eyes widened even more, if that was possible. "What-" Reaching out with an arm that seemed to move of it's own accord, she lightly grabbed his wrist. "Don't go- I- I can help you- or at least I can try-" she stopped, studying his face. Was it an excuse? Did he really feel sick, or was he just trying to get away from her? Could he really not stand to be another moment in her company? Suddenly Viva was forced to question whether everything she had just experienced had been real. What was happening? Things were moving so fast and Viva couldn't keep up. She forgot that she was still desperately clutching his arm, and she could do nothing but stand and stare up at him in hurt and shock. She realised she had never been this close to a boy before, and she swallowed nervously. Viva was still studying his face, looking for any sign of what he might be feeling.

Speech: #008000

Trying to understand.
@Matthew Campbell

Viva blinked. And blinked again. What was Matthew saying? It was almost painful to listen to the lovely words spilling from his mouth, and yet she couldn't tear herself away from him. She stared up into his deep brown eyes. What did these words mean? No one had ever said anything like this to her before... what were these feelings? They were almost overwhelming her with how powerful they were. She felt like she wanted to burst into tears and laugh with joy at the same time. "Those are nice things to say," she murmured vaguely, feeling a little dizzy. Suddenly she remembered that he was supposedly sick... she looked down at her small hand, still grasped onto his wrist.

What feels like it's going too quickly? Viva blinked, confused at his next words. What was he talking about? She blinked as the golden light from the window continued streaming into the corridor, momentarily blinding her. It surrounded Matthew's head like a sort of peaceful halo. I must be going insane, she deduced. Why else would these strange thoughts be filling my head? She snapped back to the present and realised what he had just said. He had been lying. And who wanted to be alone when they were sad? Certainly not her. She loved to be comforted, not that she had had a lot of experience with being cared for. Viva looked worriedly at Matthew. She wanted to comfort him... but if that wasn't what he wanted... Again, self-doubt began to flood her mind. Does he really just want to be alone? Or does he just want to get away from me? Am I annoying him? Do I ask too many questions? Am I too silly and naive for him to be around me? Her brain registered that he had finished talking. She opened her mouth, hesitantly. "Yes, I understand," she said faintly, even though she definitely did not.

Was he about to cry? Oh no, she certainly couldn't handle that. When anyone started to cry at all, Viva was sure to start too. She had always hated how easily she cried about things. "Don't cry," she whispered. It didn't look like he was actually going to, but she said it anyway. She felt the sharp prick behind her eyes and blinked hastily. She sniffed. How ridiculous she was being. She looked down at his hand again as he held hers. She looked up, saw him smiling at her, and felt a throb of wonderful pain in her heart. A solitary tear ran down her cheek, and she found herself smiling back. "Happy birthday. You're a wonderful person, and a wonderful friend," she said softly. "I know that will never change." She leaned forward and hugged him tightly, only for a few seconds before she pulled away, turned around, and dashed down the corridor, away from the beautiful scene with the pencils and the portraits and the paper flowers and the perfect boy who stood in the middle of it all.

Only time had the power to tell what would come of his actions but whatever that clarity would reveal he hoped that at the very least it would feel better than this. Despite it being his own doing Matthew's feet had to grip desperately to the floor to prevent him from hurling himself down the corridor after her. Every interaction no matter how small he always seemed to ruin and unlike previous moments in the year it was clear that this one he had done entirely himself.

Recalling the solitary tear that struck the beautiful flushed cheeks of Viva's face he chastised himself both mentally and physically in kicking at his own shin that only furthered the dimming light of his mood. How could he have turned something so perfect into yet another moment of regret, after everything they talked about and every little intricacy in the way she so perfectly strived to help him feel better. Was he to be forever doomed to the feeling of isolation when he was at his lowest? The worst part in all of it was that it was the truth, Matthew's mind could try and interject that he should need companions in these moments but his heart sought to burrow away in his own company. It was a cruel reality.

Viva's words as always were the upmost example of care and empathy and yet he could feel the pain he had caused lacing the words. "Happy birthday"... "wonderful person"... "never change" and then to top it off a hug filled with all the pure joy that glistened out of every fibre of her being. Well Matthew couldn't help but feel it was not a happy moment, and that he was anything but wonderful so most definitely required change. Yet for the first time in his life a birthday had come around and he had smiled even if for a brief moment. Viva had given him that, it was a gift beyond wealth.

After moments spent conflicted in the hazing fog of his subconscious doubt Matthew decided that standing around in the corridors wasn't helping. He would head back to his dorm and escape the world as he so often did. That was when he picked up the drawings, his a clumsy mess yet it captured her kindness so perfectly in the sapphire gems of her eyes. Hers a most precious gift that somehow found the power to bore directly into his mind as if the picture of himself could really see. While the boy was in no state for apologies and even if he had been the words failed to form solid mass in his brain. But he could still do something.

Finding a member of Hufflepuff he had briefly interacted with during a history of magic class he handed him the picture of her rolled into a scroll with an origami rose taped to the edges to seal it. Whether she every received it he couldn't know. Yet if she had then when she unfurled the scroll inscribed under the image of her were three small words that alone held little importance but together could alter their relationship forever.

Sorry, Love Matthew