Ink, Interrupted PV Aleks fin

On Friday, Aleks had less to do than usual—or at least, that’s how it looked in the cognitive book he used to schedule procrastination and neglected notes. Homework would, as always, be pushed off until Sunday, when no one would be available to help him anymore except Aiden and the fantasy version of every professor. Unfortunately those ran on his own knowledge and were thus utterly useless. Anyway, on today’s agenda was something far more attention-demanding than magical plants or history: literature! The young Slytherin wasn’t some poetry-obsessed lunatic searching between the lines for the meaning of life and sighing dreamily at every passage, but like many teenagers, he was influenced by media. For a wizard, there was no internet—at least not in the Drašković household, where even the newspaper was shared with the neighbors just to catch a small glimpse of the world. There was logically only one remaining option to catch a glimpse of other people’s perspectives without going around interviewing strangers with a microphone and camera. That answer was stacked between floor-to-ceiling shelves, right here in the library, for every student to visit and drown inside. It reminded him of a public pool, if water was stories and the life guard was the librarian. With a rare, solemn expression Aleks grabbed the book he’d been looking for,Tom Sawyer, and added it to the stack in his arms. It landed on top where Little House on the Prairie was waiting with three others. The books were like geese before the slaughterhouse—at least, that’s how it felt to Aleks, knowing full well he wouldn’t appreciate their contents but instead tear through them for specific passages. All that remained was to first find a place where he could do exactly that. Tense, he moved between the shelves. Here and there, students sat hunched over homework or whispered diligently as they worked through some of their books. If he hadn’t been carrying something important, perhaps a flicker of guilt over his lack of study motivation might have surfaced. Instead, his fingers curled around one side of the stack, shifting the books slightly to make carrying them easier. He wanted to find a spot where it felt right to spend an unusually long time with books. For once, he preferred to sit somewhere hidden—someplace Aiden wouldn’t find him. He knew full well that his best friend would notice the strange, unsettling calm in Aleks’s eyes today, and the uncharacteristic way he‘ll focus on books. The moment this happened, he’d have to lay his cards on the table—and he didn’t feel ready for them to show. Luckily, had the most beautiful best friend anyone could ask for. Everyone seemed to like Aiden, at least if Aleks could trust his own eyes. However, right now it felt like a curse, that made him doubt the one he felt closest to would understand the sudden deep dive into literature. With every shelf he passed and every stranger he found sitting nearby, a prickling tension crept into his fingertips. Uneasy, he pressed the index into the slit of the book’s pages, already anticipating paper cuts as punishment. That was when a familiar profanity rumbled through a shelf and into his ears. Someone was loudly complaining about how boring everything was. Or at least it was loud enough for a library. A few seconds later came a sharp, “Shut the fuck up yourself!”—a phrase that sealed his suspicion with the name that rolled through Aleks’s mind: Gabriele. Realizing who it was brought an unbidden smile to Aleks’s face. He couldn’t stop it—Gabriele, that whirlwind of a dark-haired Italian, was simply too unusual not to spark a flicker of joy back to the surface! It landed straight on the corners of Alek‘s mouth, tucking on them. Something unnamed loosened in his chest, nudging him toward the shelf he’d heard the voice from. Curious, Aleks stepped closer, peered around the corner, and examined the result of his search. Gabriele was leaning back on one of the wooden chairs, dangerously tilted, with only his own balance keeping him from breaking his bones against the shelf behind him. The weak light of the late afternoon spilled across his curls, making his hair look just as untamed as Aleks remembered it. The demeanor of mischief and an unruly energy felt swimming in the air, lightening Alek's head. With the stack weighting down on his arms, he took the final step closer. A few strands of hair had fallen across his face—partly because he just couldn't be bothered to fix them nor keep his haircut in check. “Hey Gabriele... mind if I sit with you, or are you busy?” Aleks asked, tapping lightly on the stack in his arms. He didn’t want to seem nervous, but being turned away would probably be the worst thing that could happen right now. For a brief moment and to check on his chances, his eyes flicked to what lay on the table in front of Gabriele. The quill rested diagonally across the desk‘s surface and a blank sheet of parchment seemed to be waiting for it. As if the two items were cookie crumbles, left unnoticed by the cleaning personnel. Was he in the middle of homework...?

Interaction: @Gabriele Ricci-Armani ──────────── Speech:#84319f 19/9/2025 Blablala-Whale-Song-Singing-Dominance-Asserting

Date. 19/9/25 Dialogue. #1E361C Tag. @Aleks Drašković
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

His outburst attracted a crowd. Gabriele saw movement from the corner of his eye, internally rolling his eyes as he braced himself to get told off by the librarian, or another stuck up student without anything better to do. Maybe it would actually inspire him to put words to parchment though. But instead of writing that he'd been kicked out for screaming, he could simply say that english teachers fucking sucked, and discouraged studying outside of the classroom; The one time Gabriele was in the library willingly, he was being kicked out. For whatever reason that he was yet to come up with... It had to be something good. They would probably not believe their ears, coming from their youngest son.

It wasn't the librarian or a teacher, however. When the Italian glanced up through his messy curls, it was Aleks standing there, requesting to sit by him. Gabi's expression turned into a grimace of pure skepticism. His gaze cruised him, the tapping of his fingers, to all the empty tables in the library. If he simply needed a seat, there was plenty available. His eyes flicked back up to Aleks’s face, measuring, trying to figure out why he’d want to be near him.

Naturally, he was skeptical of anyone that wanted to be in his immediate surroundings out of own free will. Overhearing your own dad tell his friend that he 'loved him(Gabi), but didn't like him most the time' had been a tough pill to swallow at ten years old. Granted, not meant for Gabi's ears, but still. Absolutely brutal. Gabriele had stalked back to his room and cried for hours into his pillow, only to descend on family dinner with his usual shitty attitude, like he hadn't heard a word of the hate aimed against his character. Self-inflicted, undeniably. But it still fucking hurt. But at least he knew to expect the worst to avoid being disappointed.

Not to mention, Aleks was tall for his age and could probably be considered objectively attractive to most girls. A bit scruffy, sure, but Gabi didn’t have much room to talk. He wasn't insecure, obviously. From his experience, perfect, fucking-Antonio-attractive boys always had an entourage of fans wherever they went and endless options. So why was Aleks here?

Then again, Aleks had proved several times that he was the furthest thing from his family's expectations. Maybe it required an outsider - a rule-breaker that broke into his house- to genuinely appreciate everything that was Gabriele. He still wasn't sure Aleks was genuine, but at least he was kind of funny, from what he'd seen this far. The truth or dare had been one of his favorite events this far.

"I suppose you can..." Still not convinced, but willing to allow it — for now. His expression softened slightly as his gaze dragged over Aleks taking the seat across from him. "Were your other friends busy, or something?" That Gabriele might have been the first choice was too unbelievable to consider.

The feeling of standing around nervously, hoping another soul might lend him their time, was one Aleks knew all too well. Although usually, it involved adults in stiff office attire, seated behind massive desks with wrinkled noses and dismissive stares—not a delicate young boy. And certainly not one whose curly hair looked like it was trying to swallow him whole. The brown eyes in question seemed occupied. Like chestnuts catching warm light, they rolled beneath thick lashes in a way that made them seem as though they were carefully weighing the situation. Aleks silently hoped the earthy color was a good sign. After all, where he came from, chestnuts were seen as a symbol of luck. His heart slowly sank into his shoes as each passing beat made the books feel heavier and him more out of place. The tension settled over his face like the stern expression of a dentist, just as the mask is pulled over their mouth and the narrowed eyes signal the drilling is about to start. His pulse began to race, pounding until it mimicked that shrill whine of the painful device. Seconds dragged by like hours before a nearly pleading expression started to sneak into his features. It took a firm grip on the stack of books to stop it. Aleks refused to beg. He feared that would only give Gabriele another reason to send him away, perhaps even to ‚fuck off‘. With shallow breaths, he waited for the last seconds to pass—then Gabriele’s gaze crossed his own. Their eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if Aleks’s face belonged in a museum display case. Not the kind people admired. It felt more like he had transformed into one of those dumb modern art pieces most folks walked past thinking: what a pointless mess. A Serbian souvenir or a the wrong printed issue of a dictionary. The day had not treated him kindly. Maybe it was the weather, or something in the air that refused to let go of its grip on his self esteem. Aleks swallowed softly—then came Gabriele‘s verdict and releases his lungs: "I suppose you can". He didn’t want to hear such a sound coming from his own mouth, but a relieved sigh slipped into his breath like an billboard stating: thank god, I thought you tell me to get lost. Guided by the permission, all the weight on his shoulders seemed to vanish into the abyss, where his confidence had a tea party today. They dropped with the rest of him as he gently set the stack of books on the table—quiet enough to be appropriate for a library. But without the leather and parchment in his hands, the boy was left rubbing his fingertips together. A small sting on one of them reminded him just how pathetically hard he’d pressed into the paper on the way here. At first, Aleks didn’t dare glance at Gabriele as he shuffled around the table like a tired dog and sank into the chair opposite. The cheeky air that usually hung around Gabriele like a favorite perfume or a soap used too often, felt strangled now. The Slytherin prayed it wasn’t because of his presence. Once seated, Aleks leaned back. The wooden chair pressed uncomfortably into his spine. Despite its rounded edges, the piece of furniture seemed intent on torturing him—like everything else lately, from skin to hair. The freckled boy drew in a breath through puffed cheeks and let it out quietly, trying to settle into the silence and make peace with the thought that maybe Gabriele didn’t actually mind him being here. Only for that frightening idea to be dragged onto the stage of his mental carousel—ushered in by nothing less than Gabriele’s voice and the question of whether his other friends were just busy. Aleks’s head shot up. His eyes widened for a moment before blinking rapidly back into their usual shape. “Well, uh…,” he began, trying to sort through his thoughts. He swallowed softly and attempted a smile. Unfortunately, it came out more embarrassed than intended. “No idea, I didn’t really want to run into anyone here right now—except…I mean, I guess you’re the exception. I was happy hearing your voice.” That actually summed it up quite well. An apologetic look flickered through Aleks’s blue eyes, as if he was trying to play off the more melancholic demeanor that haunted him this day. Of course the boy didn’t want to admit that Gabriele, in that moment, filled a particularly special role—like a strange gust of wind that messes up your hair but somehow lifts your spirits even on the worst of days. Aleks continued more quietly, “I was actually kind of happy to hear you were here. I thought maybe we could just sit together while you… do homework or whatever. But if you’d rather I leave, that’s totally fine.”, he lied. It would feel like being thrown naked into a zoo, smeared with BBQ sauce and placed beside the crocodiles. With a hint of a questionable expression Aleks‘s eyes traveled over Gabriele‘s fine cut features, hoping to find some inviting warmth in the soft lips or those high cheekbones. Was there a mole on the cheekbone's arch? Aleks fixed his eyes on the small dot. Slowly the smell of old parchment tried stir his brain into the right direction, the one where some peace of mind was lingering beneath Gabriele's presence and that tiny brown point.

Interaction: @Gabriele Ricci-Armani ──────────── Speech:#84319f 19/9/2025 Blablala-Whale-Song-Singing-Dominance-Asserting

Date. 19/9/25 Dialogue. #1E361C Tag. @Aleks Drašković
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Gabriele could count the amount of time someone had been happy to hear his voice on one hand. Among those was when he said his first words (though he couldn't remember that, of course), and all the other instances were when he was still in nappies. Now a days everyone rather have him shut the fuck up, knowing it was usually insults and taunts following anytime Gabi opened his mouth. Maybe Aleks didn't have that many friends then, except that one guy with the judgemental stare he'd seen him hang around. Typical Slytherins.

"Okay... Why?" Gabi asked, a little incredulous. He never really knew how to react to people being happy to see him. Compliments — whether genuine or not — always felt hard to believe when most people seemed pissed the moment he walked into a room. Sure, being a bitch was a conscious choice on his part, but still… it was weird hearing someone say they liked him, when that was so far out of the norm. "So, you are running away? Relatable. People suck." Most of them, anyway.

At the mention of his 'homework', Gabi glanced down at his empty parchment in front of him. Right... homework. The real reason he was here suddenly felt a bit cringe to admit. "It's not homework. I'm trying to write a letter to my parents, but I'm fucking stuck staring at this empty piece of shit parchment!" Pissed off all over again (not at Aleks), the hufflepuff grabbed the parchment, crumbled it lightly before tossing it across the table in unnecessary aggression. It landed anti-climatically on the table next to Aleks. Great. Not only did he suck at writing now, he was shit at throwing stuff, too. Gabi groaned again, burying his face in his hands.

After a few deep breaths — and forcing himself to think about something that made him happy, like his favorite Squishmallow (a unicorn, obviously) waiting for him in bed — Gabriele looked up at the boy in front of him with an eerily calm expression. Not at all in character for him. "You can sit here and stare at me if you want. But then you better help me write this shit, too." Gabriele hadn't expected company when he came here, but maybe Aleks could be to some help since he insisted.

"I want it to be a good reason to write. Without making it obvious that I'm just trying to talk to them, you know? I don't want them to think I miss them or anything." Though he definitely did. With a bit of a teasing smirk, Gabriele added: "Think you can handle that? Or are you just here for snack delivery and emotional support?"

He heard the question—to explain the why, and whether he was really running. All the while Aleks full attention remained fixed on the mole. That small brown dot stirred questions in him as well: where did Gabriele hide the others? Did he share them with his family? Or was this the only visible one? Aleks nearly forgot to answer! When he realized, he pulled his gaze away from the mole and Gabriele’s lips, attempting a small, apologetic smile. Embarrassment kissed his cheeks, coloring them red beneath the freckles. A little more quietly, Aleks tried to give answer to the questions, especially why Gabriele felt easier to be around right now. “I don’t know… you just seem really honest. And you’re not, well… difficult. It’s just very easy to be talk to you...” Even as the words slipped from his lips, they felt already wrong—like a poor translation of what he meant and felt. Suddenly, it all seemed childish. Not a good enough reason, not elegant or precise enough to explain an instinct that pressed upward in him like a shaken can of Coke ready to burst. The young Slytherin himself couldn't find the target to aim for, the one dart board that would tell him the reason he wanted Gabriele here, once hit in the middle. He was relieved the topic shifted right away—or at least that something new followed without trampling further on what he’d just explained. Slowly, the Slytherin sank downward, curling his back and draping one arm over the desk. Aleks began to slouch like someone who’d studied for two days straight for Potions and had forgotten his own name right before the exam. While not the most elegant posture, it made it easier to focus. The Serb observed as Gabriele looked down at his parchment. Taking the moment, Aleks laid his own warm hand across his face, dragging it from chin to nose to forehead and into his hair. He tried to chase the heat out of his cheeks and file away the mess that little brown dot had stirred inside him into the right mental boxes, all with a small rub. "It's not homework. I'm trying to write a letter to my parents, but I'm fucking stuck staring at this empty piece of shit parchment!" he heard Gabriele. Lowering his arm, Aleks only glanced at the paper when the boy’s hands crumpled it. From his angle, it indeed looked eerily blank. The warmth receded from Aleks’ high cheekbones, sinking back into his neck where it seemed content to settle for now beneath collarbone, freckle and moles. He returned his hand to the wooden tabletop and folding it partly over the other arm, covering the wrist. It surprised him a little to hear the Hufflepuff tried writing a letter homeward. After all,the school year had only just started. Gabriele threw the paper. Like the tantrum of a particularly offended chihuahua, his arm strength barely managed to lift the balled-up parchment through the air. It didn’t even reach the booksheves in the back. Instead, the crumpled knot of white landed with a soft plop on the adjacent table, right beside Aleks. Maybe he would have laughed, if the topic was not this emotionally charged. Gabriele collapsed, hiding his face behind palm and fingers. Aleks didn’t respond at first—he just drowned in his thoughts instead. A quiet, unfeigned pensiveness settled in his gaze. His blue irises dropped down to watch the feather quill lying abandoned on the table, as if it too was about to give up as much as its owner. He wanted to help Gabriele but in truth, he had never written a letter to his mother either. With his luck, the school owl would never find their apartment—or worse, she’d leave the envelope on the kitchen counter, lost in the pile of bills and cigarette ashes. Suddenly, gut of the corner of his eye, Gabriele shifted. Aleks looked up. The boy with chestnut-tinted eyes unexpectedly appeared calm. A faint shiver of surprise crawled across the back of Aleks’ neck, raising the brown hairs there like startled birds. Even on his forearms, a soft bloom of goosebumps prickled to life—as if he were mutating into a plucked chicken halfway through a teen drama. "You can sit here and stare at me if you want. But then you better help me write this shit, too." “I didn’t mean to–…”, Aleks was interrupted, Gabriele’s voice cut in. The Hufflepuff, with a face far too interesting for someone Aleks barely knew, said he wanted a good reason to write to his family. Something that wouldn’t give away that he missed them. That truth didn’t exactly surprise Aleks—what struck him more was the way it dissolved the tension in his shoulders. He hadn’t expected someone like Gabriele to suffer from something as quietly gutting as homesickness. Especially not him, who seemed to carry Pride as a second name and Confidence in every hair on his body, including peach fuzz! With an authentically Gabriele-like smirk, filled of tease and charismatic attitude, he went on to ask whether Aleks actually thought he could manage that—come up with something decent—or if he was just here for "snack delivery and emotional support?” The question tugged faintly at Aleks’ mouth. Though his eyes darted for a second to the stack of books he’d dragged along, his arm shifted to the side and gently pushed the materials away. Gabriele’s dilemma felt far more pressing than any journey into the media studies of unloved children. Aleks rested his elbow on the table and propped his chin lazily against his hand. Feigning more contemplation than he truly felt, he tried to approach the rather serious situation with a shade of ease—like he wasn’t a toppled fence in the eye of the tornado. "You could say the food here is so awful they need to send you a home-cooked meal to brag to the elves with—then you'd get something made by them. Or maybe your shirt’s torn and you need a replacement, something old to ruin during Magical Creatures, preferably something too big and comfortable. That way, they might send you something of their own." He offered two rather pragmatic ways of bringing a piece of his family, particularly parents to Hogwarts. Then, he nearly began to pout in thoughts. His lips were pressing together as Aleks glanced briefly toward the window. More ideas were thrown into the air: “Or you could just say a bunch of kids in your dorm are sticking family photos to their bedposts, and you don’t want to look like the weirdo without any—ask them to send a few pictures... You could also tell them something random, like how your roommates’ socks have all mysteriously vanished and now you’re wondering if anything’s gone missing back home too. Or how everyone’s doing, now that it’s starting to rain so much…? Then an idea dawned on him—perhaps a little reckless, a little inelegant. To keep himself from dismissing it outright as idiotic, he turned back to Gabriele and grinned more crookedly than before. The thought arrived hand in hand with a rumor he’d heard from Aiden, a flicker of mischief flashing behind Aleks’s eyes, knocking out every contemplative thought like they were losers who deserved to be shoved into a locker. His imagination did its part, making a curious glimmer appear beneath the blue of his eyes. “Or,” he began, “you could tell them you dressed up as a girl and tried to kiss another student—got in loads of trouble for it... Then maybe they’ll send you a Howler, and you’ll actually get to hear your parents yelling at you~” He wished he had seen that one live and in color!

Interaction: @Gabriele Ricci-Armani ──────────── Speech:#84319f 19/9/2025 Blablala-Whale-Song-Singing-Dominance-Asserting

Date. 19/9/25 Dialogue. #1E361C Tag. @Aleks Drašković
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Gabriele lingered on Aleks explaination: Gabi wasn't difficult. Literally everyone else who knew him would disagree. If he’d said that anywhere near his parents, his dads would’ve stopped whatever they were doing to stare at the boy in union with that look of disgust they'd perfected; Their faces mirroring each other’s disbelief, like Aleks had just said pineapple belonged on pizza. Even Gabriele thought Aleks had to be a little delusional for saying that about his character. Either that, or he was lying straight to both their faces.

While Aleks might actually believe it, Gabriele did not. Yet, he didn't correct him. Simply just moved on with a shake of his head. Whatever you say... Maybe some part of him wished that it would be the case... sometime. But not today.

Just for a second, a worried look had flashed over the Italian's face that he'd made a huge mistake by telling the Slytherin anything, before it quickly was replaced by a glare in warning. He better shut the fuck up and not make it a thing; As soon as he'd opened up to Aleks, he already regretted it. Gabriele had watched his reaction like a hawk; The brief look of surprise flickered in Aleks eyes. Just enough for Gabi to notice, even if the other boy didn't mean for him to see it. He had, and he felt stupid for even allowing him to sit by his table if he was going to make fun of him for missing his parents. Which - by the way - he didn't miss them. At least that's what he had told him.

The important thing wasn't if it was true or not, but that no one believed he was a pussy ass bitch for not being able to handle living away from home. The lonliness that came with starting a new school where he knew no one, thinking you have friends only to find them gone just as quickly. That was the experience all of the students here had to face - yet, why did it feel like he was struggling more than everyone else?

Bracing himself for whatever teasing would come next, he was pleasantly surprised that when Aleks opened his mouth next time, it was to give him some genuine ideas of what to write. No teasing words or taunts. Just suggestions. Some of them were more stupid than others, but it was effort, nevertheless.

Gabriele made a disgusted grimace. He didn't want a meal in the post. There was no way that it wouldn't be gross by the time it arrived, if the delivery owl hadn't picked it open and eaten it all by that time. Asking for clothes wasn't the worst suggestion in theory, but Aleks clearly hadn't seen his dads wardrobes. Neither of them wore baggy clothes in general. He couldn't even remember seeing them in something so casual as a hoodie - if they even owned one. Ever. Gabriele always got shit on if he showed up to an outing wearing 'ugly' clothes. Ugly in this case was what most would consider comfortable.

"Pfft. If I want to wear a male corset to class, sure," he scoffed, rolling his eyes—though he casually hid a small smile behind his fingers, resting his chin in his palm - listening to what else Aleks had to offer. The family photos was the most plausible option this far. Gabriele clocked the sudden shift in Aleks blue eyes, as if he just had a change of mind. Something troublesome, no doubt. But he didn't see it coming until Aleks recalled the rumors about the bathroom incident.

Gabriele furrowed his brows and leaned back. "How did you- " Gabi began in defensiveness, but stopped himself when he realized he hadn't exactly been keeping it a secret. Not to mention the three other people present at the time. The rumor must have spread like wild fire by now. That Aleks would be in the middle of gossip was no surprise. "Nevermind..." He slumped back, narrowing his eyes at the boy in front of him. Then, with a cocky smirk: "I didn't even get in trouble for that. I guess I'm too pretty even when I fake being a girl."

Even if he did tell his parents that, they'd wonder if he was hiding something from them. The last thing he needed was for them to start to question his sexuality. He was straight. Obviously. Gabriele’s face twisted slightly, a flustered flush creeping up his pale cheeks — like he was in the middle of an argument with his parents where he had to defend his pride, except it was all happening in his head. He glanced at Aleks and that shit-eating smirk, feeling his stomach churn uncomfortably. Definitely.

The comment about a male corset had been dismissed as nothing more than a made-up remark—like telling someone to go to hell when Aleks didn’t even believe in such a heated place. Where, in this case, was one supposed to go? At twelve, he was already convinced: if there was a being responsible for all things wicked, it wouldn’t be lurking between fire and breasts—it’d be seated front row, watching humans undo themselves with popcorn in hand, sunglasses and a date by its side! As for Gabriele’s parents, Aleks didn’t know them. The only Ricci-Armani he'd ever heard of was Phil… something… In Aleks’s mind, that man existed as a vague LGBTQ influencer with ties to the adult section of various magazines. His mother once had a glossy issue with that name on the cover and promptly told him to mind his own business—only adults should look at ‚content like that‘. Aleks had counted one and one together, concluding that man must be promiscuous. If Gabriele knew him? For now, he didn’t pursue the topic any further, though his thoughts lingered a few seconds longer on the last idea, wondering if there were any others he’d missed to mention. The grin never left his face, not even when Gabriele leaned back into the chair with that sweet look of furrowed brows. For a brief moment, fantasy bled into reality. Aleks imagined Gabriele’s hair longer—curled and framing those high cheekbones, casting a deeper warmth into his dark eyes. A faint wrinkle tugged at Aleks’s brow. The image was vivid, yet somehow less appealing than the boy sitting here without that theatrical female disguise. "Nevermind..." Gabriele replied with a grin, the words cutting back into the moment like a hand sweeping away dust,"I guess I'm too pretty even when I fake being a girl." The slight tension in his grin-flecked, contemplative expression began to ease as Aleks leaned back in his chair. The wooden edge yet again pressing harshly into his back, but not for a second did he let his attention stray from the Hufflepuff, nor from the grin that flared back to life. Thoughtfully, Aleks chewed on whatever confusing emotion this stirred in him, only to flick it aside, deciding not to bother about it for now. Honesty was rarely a mistake, he reasoned. At least this way, the Slytherin wouldn’t have to remember a lie for later. “Yes, you are.” The Serbian boy tilted his head slightly and let the grin melt into something looser. An honest, easy smile replaced it. Truthfully, Aleks wasn’t even flustered about agreeing out loud. It felt self-evident, like saying dogs bark, or that Solomon Lear, for all his fearless nature, still managed to unnerve him. Gabriele had elegant features—small, delicate, and yet strikingly expressive. There wasn’t much else to call him but pretty. Or maybe wild and chaotic? Which, at least in Aleks’s understanding, was just another kind of beautiful. For a second a surprising heat crawled beneath his freckles, flushing his ears. At least the muffled library air didn not feel as dusty anymore. But the earlier topic still pressed on his heart. Aleks furrowed his brows suddenly and shifted the subject back—casually toward the corset again and the mystery surrounding Gabriele‘s family name. “Do you actually know a Philbert Ricci-Armani? Or… Flipper… Phil… Philip..? My mum once told me some stuff about that guy…” The names tumbled out in several attempts to recollect the written text on that magazine cover. A hint of curiosity wandered along with his question, unraveling in a tiny smile toward the end. It would be awfully exciting to hear Gabriele has an uncle who makes Alek‘s mother press a magazine against her chest and hiss at him for talking to her during her reading time. The guy must really be a player! Aleks could imagine that Flipper to have five wives and husbands on every hand.

Interaction: @Gabriele Ricci-Armani ──────────── Speech:#84319f 19/9/2025 Blablala-Whale-Song-Singing-Dominance-Asserting

Date. 19/9/25 Dialogue. #1E361C Tag. @Aleks Drašković
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

Being told he was pretty by a guy wasn’t even close to the weirdest thing he’d heard today. Actually, it wasn’t weird at all. His dads were gay, and all of his brothers were into guys — one way or another (yeah, apparently it was a gay family. Except for him!). So really, there was no reason to be weird about Aleks’ compliment. The only thing that actually was weird, was that it was aimed at Gabi of all people.

Sure, he was good-ish looking, he supposed, but hardly at the same level as any of his brothers. Especially not Antonio... Who got compared as a (not quite as hot and popular) younger version of their hotshot dad, all the time. Meanwhile, if Gabriele was compared to anyone, it was more so his other, poor as fuck dad. Poor before marriage, that was. His brothers were also older than him, but that wasn't the point! The point was: Gabi was not the best option. And that wasn’t even insecurity talking. Hell, most days he barely cared about how he looked. It was just… fact. There's no way he could take anything this guy was saying seriously.

Then Aleks changed the topic to his dad. Or well, at first he had no idea who Philbert was supposed to be. Was Flipper even a name? With every new 'name', if you even could call it that, Gabriele looked more and more confused and skeptical. 'Phil' - while still wildly wrong- was close enough that he made the connection. Okay, that was actually the weirdest thing he'd heard today.

"Phil? Who the fuck is that- OH, you mean Philippe? FI-LIPP?" Gabriele leaned forward, emphasising on the correct - french - pronounciation of the name. Don't ask why they used the french version when they were Italian. Supposed it just sounded prettier. You know, because shit like that matters to his family. All about appearances...

"I hope that was just an accident," Gabi said with an impish smirk. "He would have been pissed if he heard you call him Philbert. Or Flipper." A mis-pronounciation wasn't that important. To most people it wouldn't be, unless you were his petty dads. Gabriele didn't really care that Aleks was misinformed and said it wrong. It had sounded genuinely like an accident, and it was pretty funny. But at the end of the day, he was protective over his family. More than he'd ever admit.

Jesus, though. If Philippe had heard that, he would’ve lost his goddamn mind. Not the best first impression to make on someone who took himself more seriously than Kim Jong-un. But it would’ve been hilarious to see his reaction—if Gabi weren’t the one who’d end up dead. He'd never dare insult his dads appearance or name. His sexual history and all the bar fights he got into was a completely different story, however. But that was just facts you could read about in any old tabloid. If you REALLY wanted to know.

"Your mom talked about my dad? So, she was a fangirl or what? My honest condolences," for having a pathetic mom. Naturally, he assumed he knew everything, so this would hardly come to a surprise: "That must have been horrible. To hear about what a slut he was back in the day. Well, imagine being his son." Gabriele gave him a knowing look. Like:You think you've got it bad? Think about me?! Jokes on him, he actively went out of his way to find out the dirtiest secrets, just so he could blast it at family dinner and ruin the mood.

Far from the first fangirl he'd hear about, but definitely not the last. How people had the energy to obsess over celebrities - who was gay, to boot - was beyond him.

The smile burried itself deeper into his features. The corners of his mouth pressed into his cheeks as Gabriele’s answer confirmed he actually knew the man. Naturally, excitement rushed through Aleks’s body. He practically grinned back in response to Gabriele’s impish expression. The Slytherin leaned forward again—at least far enough to place one hand eagerly on the table and run his fingers across the wooden table. The texture felt rough beneath his skin, like too many students have wasted their time studying here. The boy in front of him looked downright charming when his face twisted into a mischievous smirk. "He would have been pissed if he heard you call him Philbert. Or Flipper," the Italian responded. Aleks slightly tilted his head. A few of the longer strands of his brown hair fell across his forehead, curling off to the left. As usual, they behaved as if determined to steal the last trace of presentability from his appearance and replace it with untamed wilderness. However at this moment, the Slytherin didn’t mind it. He was far too focused on hearing more of Gabriele‘s thoughts. Internally, he was already painting out a vivid image of the possible connection—maybe this Philippe was an uncle, or a husband who married into the family of a second cousin? Aleks wondered if he might be the black sheep of the Armani family—clad in nothing but underwear, glitter and sweat. Idea after idea tore through the boy’s head, fighting like gladiators for the throne of his favorites list. Still, he felt the urge to answer. Thus Aleks shrugged a little awkwardly with one shoulder, the smile still lingering on his face. “Yeah, it was,” he confirmed—it had indeed been an accident. He’d never intentionally insult the potential relative of a fellow student. While the boy might not have been the most polite individual, he certainly wasn’t deliberately mean! If anything, it seemed like politeness chose to dance in wide circles around him, laughing at every social misstep he made along the way. In response, Gabriele added, "Your mom talked about my dad? So, she was a fangirl or what? My honest condolences." As well as that it must’ve been awful hearing about such a scandalous life — but not nearly as bad as being the son of that man. It would have been the queen of all understatements to claim Aleks’s blood didn’t freeze at that remark! A wave of cold swept over him. He stiffly blinked for a moment or two, uncertain if his entire system hadn’t just pulled the rug out from under his feet. The information processed like a living turkey on the stove. It struck, flailed, and fought against every last brain cell Aleks still had left for self-defense! Gabriele was Philippe’s son? As if the other boy had been reading his thoughts the entire time—sitting there front row with popcorn—Aleks’s cheeks slowly began to glow. The color fled from his lips and settled on his ears instead. Pale and flushed all at once, he sank lower into his seat. “Oh,” the downfall started, “I didn’t know that..”. Aleks felt like he’d betrayed Gabriele! As if he’d flipped him off and eaten his homework like some miserable Serbian dog that nobody loved enough to adopt from the shelter. Whatever posture remained, it collapsed and withered from his shoulders under the weight of shame and guilt. Meanwhile a near-silent, apology seeking expression flickered across his face. The smile was completely gone, having vanished in the last seconds. “Sorry,” he added to his explanation.Only for the memory to hit him, of the magazine and the vase in the garden. He swallowed instantly. “For the vase too. The one in the garden. I hope it wasn’t expensive?”

Interaction: @Gabriele Ricci-Armani ──────────── Speech:#84319f 19/9/2025 Blablala-Whale-Song-Singing-Dominance-Asserting