Moon's silent vigil
moon's silent vigil • backdated 28 sept 2024--
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| ---- | Carina fumbled through her drawer to find a dusty, emptied matchbox. All her matchboxes prepared by her mom are used and thrown. Twenty-eighth of September, one in the morning. Could she still walk down to mail a letter now? Owls are usually active at night, don't they? She paced around her bed, debating whether to risk herself wandering in the darkness or not getting sleep worrying for her matches. Lie down. Get back to bed. Hold the blanket over your head. Shut your eyes and go to sleep. A voice ranted again and again from the back of her head. Finally, she let her body fall back to the warm soft bed. 2am. She had her cold hand in the drawer again. "I need matches", she whined into the darkness. She then caught a peaceful snore made by her dorm mate just a few feet away. Hopeless and in need of a good deep sleep, she got up. Without further thought, she awkwardly reached for her coat and lamp before stepping out into the darkness. The corridor was colder than she had expected. She held her breath, clutching tight to her heavy coat, feeling her way through the cold stone walls. Carina had been in Hogwarts for almost a month now, and if she didn't know where to get matches, she would be dying of fear sooner or later in her bed. Every creak beneath her shoes made her heartbeat faster and faster. No wand, no light, and definitely no clue where she is. With the letter tucked in her coat pocket, she walked along the passageway. She knows where she is now, with a gentle stream of moonlight through the open stone arch, she remembers of the astronomy tower's balcony. Which also means the owlery is just a few flights of stairs away. Her steps were quickened, not towards the owlery but towards the wooden doors, leading out to open air. For minutes, she stood there in peace and alone, until she wasn't. |
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---thoughts • speech • [url=https://i.postimg.cc/pXsfZBRb/IMG-20250502-171605-729.jpg]outfit[/url] @Giovanni De'Luca
Last edited by Carina Kaede on 29 Jun 2025, 01:25, edited 1 time in total.
Moon's silent vigil
_GDL_ |
───────────────────────────────────────────────── Sleep had abandoned Giovanni hours ago. He lay in bed, the duvet covers thrown haphazardly over his knees, his curtains cracked open to reveal the sliver of moonlight that seemed to be his only company. His eyes, blue at first glance, more green upon inspection, were wide open in the dark, watching the serene way the moonlight sliced through the crack in his curtains and painted a silver line across the dormitory floor. A faint snore interrupted his trail of thought and he briefly stopped to envy his dormmates ignorance, wrapped in warmth and bliss at this hour, whilst he was cursed with frightful insomnia. It was these unusual hours where Giovanni's mind seeped into a sort of strange uncertainty, an unusual anxiety that plagued his bones and shifted his consciousness to dwell on matters his day self would shrug away with indifference. He let thoughts of his family drift across his mind, scowling into the darkness every now and then, pausing to turn onto his right side and shove a hand under his cheek to continue his brooding. A quick glance at his watch had him frowning once more, this time in exasperation. This lack of sleep would not only hinder his learning capacity the next day, but leave the imprint of dark shadows beneath his eyes, which combined with his usually impassive expression, risked giving him the unnerving appearance of a brooding spectre who might just bite your head off for fun. A flash of brilliance (not that he wasn't always brilliant) had him stealing a quick glance around the room before swinging his legs over the side of his bed and shoving his socked feet into his oxfords, snatching his cloak which was hanging by his bed stand. Retrieving his wand from under his pillow, Giovanni took careful quiet steps towards his dormitory door and stepped out, his silence broken only by the soft click of the door closing behind him. He moved quickly through the castle, and although you could never get him to admit it, his haste stemmed partially from slight fear of the castle's draughty corridors and the soft hush and whistle of the wind beating on the walls outside. He was heading for the Astronomy Tower. Giovanni liked to think of it as his secret refuge, he'd go there during the day time enough. He’d only been a handful of times at night, but that was usually before curfew and the few times he had lost track of time, neck aching from staring upwards at the scatter of stars in the sky, he’d returned to his common room rather hastily, unwilling to be caught up in a useless detention by patrolling prefects and tarnish his perfect record. Upon arrival the night air pressed in around him, crisp and cool and cutting through his thin shirt, welcoming goosebumps across the plane of his fair arms. The moonlight caught him in pieces, brushing across the sharp planes of his face, the gentle curve of lips, dark hair falling softly across his forehead, tousled from sleep but somehow perfect in the way it framed his face. Giovanni stepped towards the stone railing, unfastening his cloak and slipping it free, pooling the material over the crook of his arm and reaching into his pocket to withdraw a small leatherbound notebook. His eyes lifted to the sky. A hundred stars burned overhead, distant, indifferent, beautiful. Then behind him, the faintest sound. The almost-silent brush of another presence. Giovannis’s shoulders snapped tight and he straightened up too quickly, turning on his heel a fraction too fast so that the cloak slipped free from his arm just as his grip on the notebook gave way. It hit the stone floor with a dull echoing thud. He stilled, with his eyes narrowed and breath caught, heart kicking hard as he peered through the darkness. He wasn't alone. ───────────────────────────────────────────────── backdated thread | _GDL_ |
ooc pinterest . ency . playlist . owl |
*ੈ✩‧₊˚Star-pale, celestial, neither flesh nor blood.⋆⭒ ࣪ .⋆
|
Moon's silent vigil
moon's silent vigil • backdated 28 sept 2024--
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---thoughts • speech • [url=https://i.postimg.cc/pXsfZBRb/IMG-20250502-171605-729.jpg]outfit[/url] @Giovanni De'Luca
Moon's silent vigil
_GDL_ |
───────────────────────────────────────────────── Her voice hung between them like mist. Brittle, trembling, but most of all, too human for this hour. Giovanni didn't say anything momentarily, too startled by her presence. He stood motionless, a statue carved from midnight, the moonlight slashing across his face like a blade. He had hoped for silence tonight. Just a breath, a scrap of solitude between himself and the weight of everything else. But of course, of course, someone had found him. When she turned to go (foolishly, as if she hadn’t already shattered the moment by being here), he moved before thinking. His fingers reached out and curled around her arm, the soft fabric slippery under his fingers. “Wait-” he said sharply, on impulse, then immediately regretted it. He was already calculating the likelihood of being caught: a wandering professor on patrol, a prefect with too much self-righteousness, some ghost who’d report them out of boredom or spite. Being found here with someone else only made things worse. Giovanni’s mind raced through the possible implications while his eyes absentmindedly traced the way moonlight caught in the soft strands of her hair. The night blurred, his mind somewhere between the stars and the sharp shape of her shoulder, and he wondered if anyone had heard the dull thud of his notebook falling, or whether he was being paranoid. He was already regretting coming. Regretting staying. And now, regretting touching her. With a suddenness as sharp as it was impersonal, Giovanni let go, his arm falling to his side like it no longer belonged to him. He inwardly cursed himself. What a stupid thing to do. He couldn't just go around manhandling random students throughout the castle. If she could see his face, she might have noticed the way colour threatened the high arch of his cheekbone, but masked it with movement, adjusting the collar of his shirt, clearing his throat. “I don’t care why you’re here,” he said flatly, keeping his face angled away, voice clipped and cold as ever, “But if you get us caught-” He broke off, unsure of what to say. Should he spill a threat? No… she meant no harm, besides, he’d made more noise than her by dropping his book. Granted, that was because she startled him, but still... It was only the bitterness in him that wanted to rage at her. He was more like his mother than he thought. She spoke again. Her voice soft. Apologetic. “I won’t stay long. I just needed… a bit of air.” Giovanni watched her like one might observe a spider in a glass, with equal parts irritation and dispassionate curiosity. A girl, slight in frame, dark-haired, fair-skinned, someone he vaguely recognised from corridors but had never bothered to categorise. Her presence pressed against the quiet of the tower like smudged ink on a pristine page, making his head ache in a slow, simmering way. The kind that curled behind the eyes and left a metallic taste on the tongue. His gaze, sharp and unreadable, flickered to the letter poking out of her pocket then to her face, angelic in the pale light. What was she even doing with a letter at this hour? A gust of wind dragged through the tower, lifting the hem of his cloak and pulling at his dark hair like a restless hand. The cold struck a chill in him, simmering his anger, and he ran a hand through his hair, a habitual gesture, precise, smoothing the mess the wind had left behind, before continuing, tone flatter now, more composed. His eyes met hers then, not soft, not kind, but strikingly clear. Green, not blue in this light, pale, cutting, and oddly still, like glass before it shatters. He took a step back from her. “No- don’t. Apologise, I mean.” He found he meant it. After all, she didn't have anything to apologise for. Giovanni couldn't just go around claiming parts of the castle for himself. Even if it was mildly irritating that she'd had to turn up at the same place as him. He watched as she picked something from the floor, tracking her movements, registering the dark cascade of hair and the face hidden by shadows, considering how, if she were to step into the light, she would be considered quite pretty by most. He rarely took the opportunity to scrutinise his peers. It was a second before Giovanni realised it was his book she was holding, and he tore his eyes from her to reach for it, still limp in her hand, fingers curling around its edge. In the same moment, as he stepped forward hurriedly, the dark sweep of his cloak , a furious swish, caught the base of the telescope that stood in its perch by the window. It tipped, toppled. And then came the sound. A terrible clatter of brass against stone, sharp and metallic as it skidded violently across the floor, spinning once, no, twice, before crashing against the leg of the bench with a loud, final clang that echoed off the tower walls like a gunshot in the silence. A stream of colourful swear words streamed through Giovanni’s mind while he froze, squeezing his eyes shut in a grimace. ───────────────────────────────────────────────── notes: eek | _GDL_ |
Last edited by Giovanni De'Luca on 1 Aug 2025, 17:10, edited 1 time in total.
ooc pinterest . ency . playlist . owl |
*ੈ✩‧₊˚Star-pale, celestial, neither flesh nor blood.⋆⭒ ࣪ .⋆
|
Moon's silent vigil
moon's silent vigil • backdated 28 sept 2024--
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| ---- | The crash still rang in Carina's ears, even as silence fell like snow around them. The next second she knew, she was behind the curtain, pressed into the fabric, faded with age and dust clinging to the folds. She hadn't quite meant to move, but the tug had been instinctive, firm, and now the nerves on her arm are still recovering from numbness. She barely moved, careful not to brush against the boy's shoulder again, she could feel the tension radiating off him like heat. Her breath slowed steadily while her gaze fixed on a crack in the stone wall. Carina inhaled deeply, letting it stay in her lungs for seconds. There was something in the air that reminded her of apples. A memory stirred. She felt like she was there, the warmth of the kitchen light. into the hall, the sound of crickets from the woods, the thud of her socked feet on the floorboards. Elise had been stirring the sugar and cinnamon, with no apron, pot bubbling on the stove. Pastry sitting on the counter waiting to be filled with apples. The sugar had caramelized in the pot, giving the whole house a rich, golden scent. It was relieving, because she knew, even though full from dinner, she'll have something to ease her cravings later at night. Climbing up to the counter had slowly become a habit to her, too big for it but doing it anyway, bare legs swinging. Elise or her mother would have smiled and handed her a piece of fruit, soft and warm from the pan. With sticky sweetness on her fingers. No one ever raised voices in their house. Even silence had felt safe. It was strange, hiding out with a boy she barely knew, someone who held himself like he expected the world to betray him, and thinking of pastry and apples. The boy hadn't spoken since the crash. She hadn't expected him too. His presence was a closed book, his body language a wall of silence, shoulders hunched, gaze averted. But Carina didn't find it unpleasant. Just different. She didn't need people to talk to understand them. Sometimes just silence said enough. She felt at peace, knowing that his expectations for her won't be to talk, unlike the rest of the world. Her fingers brushed the hem of her sleeve. It still smelt faintly of the laundry soap from home. There was a loose thread there she'd been meaning trim. Glancing, she was careful not to be obvious. In the faint light, his face was unreadable, but she noticed how still his hands were, how tightly he held his jaw, like he'd learned to keep himself tight. When she tried shifting, her shoulder touched his arm. She doubted if they were in the same year. She didn't apologise. She didn't pull away either. Instead, she tucked her hands into her dress and wondered why she wasn't afraid. Carina didn't say she's used to baking at night. Or that she loved the aroma of caramelized apple that made the house warm. Or that she missed the late night treats. But maybe, if he looked closely, he could feel it. |
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---thoughts • speech • [url=https://i.postimg.cc/pXsfZBRb/IMG-20250502-171605-729.jpg]outfit[/url] • comments: Phew~ @Giovanni De'Luca