Closed New Conversations and Secrets Shared PV: Mikey Forville

Mikey sat down beside Nyx, his back resting lightly against the tree trunk. The bark was cool through his shirt, and the grass under them smelled fresh and earthy. It was a nice day with sunlight trickling through the leaves in gold patches. The kind of day when everything felt relaxed and calm to Mikey. He noticed the way Nyx's eyes seemed to drift for a second, like she was somewhere else. He didn’t ask. Whatever it was, it looked like the kind of thing that didn’t like being talked about.

Her question pulled him back, and he turned his head slightly to look at her. “Favorite part?” He echoed, giving himself time to think about the answer. “I think it’s the quiet places, actually,” he said after a moment, surprising even him a little. “Like, yeah, the classes are cool, but it’s the little spots that feel secret. The library corners and the alcoves no one uses.” He smiled a little, soft and sincere. “I like finding places where I can just be. And not have to explain why I need the quiet. It’s just not something I got back in Liverpool, you know.”

He thought about his parents' small apartment in the city. It was nice, and they all worked together to keep it clean, but it was in the center of town. Even with the windows closed, you could hear the hustle and bustle of the surrounding city. Trucks making deliveries, police sirens, and the general noise of too many people in too small of a place. He briefly wondered if she could relate but decided to save that question for another time.

Mikey picked a blade of grass, twisting it between his fingers. “What about you? You don’t strike me as someone who cares much about the obvious stuff. What’s your favorite part?” He tilted his head a little, genuinely curious.

☞ Speech
☞ Thoughts
☞ Narration

Current outfit:
☞ Hogwarts mandatory clothes.
☞ Black army-type boots, with silver accents
☞ Silver pirate rings with the usual skull and crossbones decor.
☞ Several choker's, ranging from silver to black along with my usual assortment of piercings.
☞ Black headphones with my magical radio in my pocket.

Current Hairstyle:
☞ Thick bun at the top of my head with thin black headband

I smiled at that.
I looked around. I spoke quietly, my voice little louder than the whisper of wind in the leaves of a tree.
"I like this out here. The outdoors. Not a lot of people are out here so it's quiet. I used to spend a lot of time outside back home. And I get what you mean. In the city there is no peace. Out here though, it's quiet in a good way."
I continued speaking, my voice just a little louder now.
"People think that the library is the best place to find peace.
They don't realize the peace out here though. There's a ... reassurance with this quiet. Like nature is listening to you and it knows your pain.
Like it feels it alongside you.
I find peace in that. In the feeling that you don't have to speak, you just have to listen.
When you talk to other people, they expect you to share everything, but here, you don't have to.
I wear a mask, one that says 'I don't care what you think of me,' but when I'm out here, It slips off. Like water on a flower.
I know, I'm poetic."
I said, joking. But he looked thoughtful. I felt like my words had truly gotten to hime, like he understood what I said. I waited for him to respond.

Mikey didn’t speak right away. He sat still, letting her words settle into the air between them like the leaves that occasionally drifted down from the branches above. Her voice had been soft, but it hadn’t needed to be louder. In the quiet peace of the courtyard, he could hear a pin drop. He kept twisting the blade of grass between his fingers. “I think…” he started, then paused, his voice low like hers had been. “I think that’s one of the most honest things I’ve heard since getting here.”

He glanced sideways at her, not with wide eyes or surprise but with something gentler. “It’s not poetic,” he said, offering the smallest smile. “It’s true. You said it like someone who’s actually listened to the quiet long enough to understand it.” Mikey leaned his head back against the tree and looked up through the canopy of shifting green and gold. “It’s funny. Everyone keeps rushing to be louder. Louder spells, louder outfits, louder personalities. But what you said?” He shook his head slowly, still looking up. “That kind of quiet? That’s the stuff I think people are scared to sit with.”

The breeze lifted a strand of Nyx’s hair and set it gently back down. Mikey said suddenly, quietly. “You don’t fill space just to fill it. You leave room for the world to speak back.” He looked over at her again, a little grin creeping onto his lips this time. “Also, if you were being poetic, it kind of suits you. So, no apologies.” The blade of grass that he had been twisting finally snapped in two and he shook free from his thoughts. “What’s it like, growing up in a magical family?” he asked hoping to learn more about his new friend.

☞ Speech
☞ Thoughts
☞ Narration

Current outfit:
☞ Hogwarts mandatory clothes.
☞ Black army-type boots, with silver accents
☞ Silver pirate rings with the usual skull and crossbones decor.
☞ Several choker's, ranging from silver to black along with my usual assortment of piercings.
☞ Black headphones with my magical radio in my pocket.

Current Hairstyle:
☞ Thick bun at the top of my head with thin black headband

I winced, causing him to look both intrigued and confused.
"Ummm, well."
I was at a loss. I didn't know how to explain exactly to him what it was like in a magical family.
"The best that I can say is fun-ish. Stressful. Sometimes lonely."
He looked confused at what I said.
"It's not as if everything is bad. It's just that parents like mine expect certain things from you. No, actually not parents. Just my mother. She and I don't really have a good .... relationship so as to speak. But no yeah, it's fun. In the woods behind our manor there are unicorns. But I've only seen them once or twice. Another are a lot of magical plants as well. And there is this enormous library where I spent most of my time when I was at home."
I said all of this to try to get his attention away from what I said about my mother but I knew my new friend too well. He would probably ask me about it sooner or later.
He looked thoughtful. Maybe he didn't realize my slip up?
"There's this tree that's deep in the forest. It's a weeping willow. It's sort of my hiding place. I liked to read up there in the summer and winter."
I told him. I smiled a bit at the memory.
I decided to ask him something about his life.
"What about you? How's life in the city?"

Mikey caught the wince, saw the way her words knotted up before they came out, fun-ish, stressful, lonely, and did not interrupt. Did not push. Just listened. The way she danced around mentioning her mother didn't go unnoticed, but he did not press it. Rather, he let her do the rest. Unicorns among the trees, a great library, the weeping willow that had more the tone of a sanctuary than a tree. He could picture it too easily her with a book over her knees, wind in her hair, far up in a place where the world couldn't quite reach her.

"Sounds. really incredible," he said. "The willow especially. Like out of a book." He did not say you are like out of a book, but the inference lingered in the back of his mind. Mikey chuckled lightly, rubbing the back of his neck when she asked him about life in the city. “City life?” He leaned forward, resting his arms over his knees. “Loud. Really loud. You’d hate it,” he teased gently, flashing her a sideways look. “There’s always someone shouting, honking, rushing somewhere like the world’s ending. There’s not a lot of trees. Definitely no unicorns.” He paused, and his voice transitioned from teasing to softer. "We live in a small flat and our windows open onto this noisy street with a bakery on the ground floor. Which, actually, smells really nice at five o'clock in the morning, but… not that great if you're trying to sleep in."

He gazed down at the grass. "It's not bad, actually. But no hiding spots. No magic, no actual quiet. You sort of learn to block everything out or just go crazy." Mikey brushed a blade of grass off his pant leg. "So then I got here and finally realized I could just… sneak off down a corridor, or lean up against a tree without being pushed past by another stranger every five seconds?" He smiled slightly. "It was like it'd been years since I could get some air."

He leaned his head to one side again, toward her, eyes thoughtful. "Ever wish you could take that willow with you? I don't know. stick it in your trunk or something?" His smile returned, this time more muted. "I'd give up every corner of Liverpool for one tree that let me read in peace."

☞ Speech
☞ Thoughts
☞ Narration

Current outfit:
☞ Hogwarts mandatory clothes.
☞ Black army-type boots, with silver accents
☞ Silver pirate rings with the usual skull and crossbones decor.
☞ Several choker's, ranging from silver to black along with my usual assortment of piercings.
☞ Black headphones with my magical radio in my pocket.

Current Hairstyle:
☞ Thick bun at the top of my head with thin black headband

I listened to him talk about everything. About the noise, the need for peace. The relief that here, you could disappear and nobody would bother you or come find you.
I smiled when he asked if I ever wanted to bring my tree with me. I did. I watched him carefully when he said that he would give up every corner in Liverpool if he could only have one tree that would let him read in peace. I understood that need. The need for peace, for just one moment, one moment, where you weren't accosted by people, where you weren't surrounded by the masses. Where you could just be you. I spoke softly, not wanting to break whatever spell had been placed upon this moment.
"I get it. That need for peace. That want for a moment of silence. People just don't realize how precious it is until it's gone or someone asks for it. And not a lot of people could understand that. About wanting a quiet tree to read, to just be. Other people take it for granted because they don't know what it's like to not be able to hear your own thoughts. They're used to it, or they've just never had the need for it. Sometimes though, it's nice to be able to stop, take a breath, and look around. Besides, you're right, I wouldn't like the city at all."
I finished with a bit of light teasing. But I knew that he could tell that my words were genuine. I looked up into the tree while I waited for him to talk. Or not. Whatever it was that he felt comfortable with, I was there for him.

Mikey turned his head just slightly, watching Nyx as she spoke. Her voice was quiet, but her words deep and meaningful. There was something rare in the way she said things and it struck him all over again how much that meant. Not many people did that. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Exactly.” His fingers brushed the grass again, this time slower, like he didn’t want to break the moment. He could still hear the hum of faraway voices from other students across the lawn, but out here under the branches, it felt more real. Like the noise had the decency to quiet down around them.

“You ever get the feeling,” he said after pausing for a second. “Like the world is always asking something from you?” He wasn’t complaining, just stating it. Like something he hadn’t known how to say until now. “Like, no matter where you are or who you’re with, there’s always some version of you that’s expected. Like you're supposed to smile this way, or talk that way, or not be too much of anything?” He glanced over not meeting her eyes, but not hiding either. “I like that here, in places like this, none of that really matters. No one's watching to see if you’ve got the right face on you know.”

He tugged a twig from the grass and started bending it between his fingers, not bothering to do anything with it. Then, with a glance sideways and just a little more brightness in his tone, he added, “Also, I’m like… ninety percent sure you’re secretly a poet. Which is fine. Just, give me a heads up if you are going to start speaking in riddles. I need time to mentally prepare.” He nudged her shoulder gently, then let the silence settle again. After a short pause he added. "So what's next on the tour?"

☞ Speech
☞ Thoughts
☞ Narration

Current outfit:
☞ Hogwarts mandatory clothes.
☞ Black army-type boots, with silver accents
☞ Silver pirate rings with the usual skull and crossbones decor.
☞ Several choker's, ranging from silver to black along with my usual assortment of piercings.
☞ Black headphones with my magical radio in my pocket.

Current Hairstyle:
☞ Thick bun at the top of my head with thin black headband

I listened to what he said about the world always asking something of you. It was true, but it wasn't just the world.
I told him, after hearing what he was saying,
"Exactly. Like, no matter how hard you try, somehow, someway, you just don't fit someone's expectations. I... My mother isn't... She doesn't try to understand, like you do. She just sees me and doesn't like what she sees."
He looked slightly confused by what I said, so I tried to clarify.
"She wanted a little pink princess. A girl who liked things like, I don't know, talking about clothes, shoes, shopping, who disliked being outside. Who didn't like and complained about schoolwork and such. I am her complete and total opposite. It doesn't help that I look nothing like her either. I take after my father. Pale, tall, and dark. She's like the sun and I'm the moon. But here, I don't have to deal with her judgmental stares, or her voice, or anything about her. I can be free."
I finished slightly breathless.
He was watching me closely. It felt like he was looking into my soul and was seeing into my very being. Then he made some joke about my being poet and my dark thoughts dissipated.
I laughed a bit at that and said, "I might be a poet sure, but I won't start speaking in riddles. As for the next location, where do you want to go? We have all afternoon after all."

Mikey listened without interrupting, his eyes fixed not on Nyx’s face, but on the way her fingers moved slightly in the grass. That kind of vulnerability saying things most people wouldn't admit even to themselves deserved silence. She didn’t sugarcoat it, didn’t pretty it up for him. She just said it. When she finished a soft breeze moved through the branches again, and Mikey let it pass over them before answering. “I think,” he said slowly, “that the moon’s got a lot more going for it than the sun ever did.”

He paused and then added with a quiet smile, “Moonlight’s calm. It doesn’t try to blind you, doesn’t shout to be seen. It’s just Steady, Subtle and Honest." His hand brushed a loose patch of moss at the tree’s roots as if grounding himself. “If you ask me,” he said more gently now, “you’re doing a much better job of being you than she probably ever did trying to turn you into someone else.” He didn’t need to say more.

Mikey stood and held out his hand toward her, not making a big deal of it, just offering it because it felt natural. “Then maybe we sneak into the greenhouse and see if any of the plants are blooming. I heard some will glow if you're quiet enough.”

His grin turned a bit mischievous. “Unless, of course, you’d rather go somewhere like the Great Hall. You could teach me all about shopping and shoes and why princess tiaras are itchy.” He raised his brows playfully and grinned. “You know, for educational purposes.” But his eyes told the real story he was glad she was here, glad they were in this moment, and more than anything glad she was his friend.