No Invitation Pv. Prat Pass Finished

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Astro Tower

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Prat had a terrible habit of assuming time, much like all things would bend to his will. Classes, training, sports responsibilities; none of those felt like they could bind him or his time, not when the boy carried himself like someone who could make the hours stretch if he so desired.

Yet, this time, the boy had quite possibly managed to fail his time management. The hour had crept past him and only when Neoth yawned on Prat's bed, curling into the blanket placed there, did the realization of the clock's betrayal hit the viper.He cursed under his breath, tugging on something slightly more sharper than school robes; black trousers, a crisp light blue shirt and a white sleeveless jumper, draped enough to look effortless as he left the dorm without another thought on his mind. Well, except the few half-apologetic ones he had about making Siobhan wait once again.

But, at the same time, he couldn't picture her having anything better to do. She always waited, that was the way of things: she complained, she prodded, she scolded him for things but in the end she stayed nonetheless. He never worried if she'd actually leave, never even considered that possibility.

When he finally reached the tower, the evening sun had pained the stone walls in amber light. And there she was; back against the wall, knees pulled close, her cardigan wrapped tight around her. The girl was smiling, faintly but steady, like she was in on some joke he wasn't told about. For a fleeting moment, Prat thought maybe because she'd heard him coming, probably looking forward to see him. Then his arrogance wavered a little, was it something else entirely?

Nonetheless, the spark of arrogance and smugness caught over him once again. Was his face so pretty that she'd begun to smile by just his presence? That'd be nice. What he also noticed immediately what wasn't there. No Toaster. His frown was automatic, heavy. The little beast was half the reason he chased for these meetups, and Siobhan had the audacity to leave toaster behind. He was half expecting the cat to bound towards him as a proper greeting, Alas, that was yet to be.

Despite the slight tinge of disappointment, Prat schooled his features, smoothing them into his usual mask of arrogance and calm that were his staple before walking forward towards her. His shoes tapping lightly against the stone floor as he approached her, each step carrying his practiced air of control.

When he reached the gryffindor girl, he didn't bother with pleasantries. "What's got you smiling like that?" his voice was calm but edged with teasing, more demanding than genuine curiosity as his sharp eyes flicked to her face.

Without waiting for her reply, he lowered himself to sit beside her, back against the same wall as hers, close enough for their shoulders to brush. He leaned forward, slightly hands draped over his knees, exhaling through his nose as if he'd been the one waiting in her place.

"Right," he continued briskly, not giving her a chance to fill the silence first. "So I was thinking. Since you're a girl, and there's a ball coming up, and you're not terrible at all to look at, it makes sense for me and you to go together. Just like last time, what do you say?"

He said it with his usual brand of confidence, voice steady and smug, chin lifted just so rightfully. But in the flicker of the sunset, there was something else in his expression. A hint of excitement, poorly disguised beneath his arrogance, and a flash of embarrassment that he had to ask her at all instead of simply declaring it.

Prat turned his head towards her, studying her face for a reaction he half-expected and half-feared. He hated the very act of asking, it was foolish to give up control and choice to someone else entirely. He hated the idea of giving people an opportunity to say no, or choose for him.

But with Sio, things were different. He remembered the times they had spent together, their fruitless search for a "secret treasure", their retreat to this very tower during a previous ball when she needed to get out, the fireworks exploding overhead as the two chatted away at the summer carnival.

He thought of the ways she'd always complained about him, probably rolled her eyes and muttered things, yet, never stopped showing up whenever he asked on a whim.

Prat tapped his fingers against he knee once, quickly betraying the restless energy he couldn't entirely mask. Then he added, a little softer but still laced with his usual presumption:

"You'll say yes, obviously. Who else would you go with? Nobody else is as sharp looking as me out there in the castle."

The words were confident and smug, but his gaze lingered, searching her expressions for confirmation, agreement, for anything that might steady the peculiar twisting feeling in his chest that he refused to name.

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⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Stats: sta 6 ⊹ eva 8 ⊹ str 7 ⊹ wis 7 ⊹ arc 7 ⊹ acc 7 | Time: A Sunny Afternoon | CC:#2E8B57
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As per usual, the sudden shock of a voice -namely Prat's in this manner- shocked her out of the reverb that she was fully encompassed in which as per usual again, sent her into a bit of a jolt as his shoulder brushed against hers and the breath he let out was filled with feigned annoyance. As if he hadn't been late again, making her wait for him despite his general lack of a care to meet her on time.

Arrogant bastard.

Siobhan's tongue was fully loaded with the usual snarky remark, prepared to ask him how he could have possibly forgotten to meet her when it was his plan in the first place to meet here. Just as it always was. Funny how that phrase seemed to be something of an indicator that whatever they were planning to do together, was going to happen one way or another. She had no say again -not that she really needed to since half the time she agreed to his ideas without much of a protest- but despite that usual gumption, Prat wasn't the guy to ask her things.

Just as it always was.

So when his voice cut her off from starting her typical tirade about his punctuality problem, telling her that "she was a girl" and all, followed by his weird intepretation of a compliment that "she wasn't terrible to look at," she felt her gut sink as he finally vocalized that he wanted her to go to the ball with him.

Siobhan couldn't lie and say that she hadn't thought he was going to ask her, but with the ball approaching within the next week or so, and how long it had taken someone to ask her, her thoughts had drifted to the consideration that Prat had asked someone else. Which was fine, she didn't go to the events with with the same person twice anyway. Though she often wondered if something or someone was making her ball dates disappear- since they never seemed to stick around for more than a month or so after an appearance with her.

Siobhan hadn't progressed to the level of insanity that most girls her age did when boys didn't talk to her again after seeing her. The jury was still out on wether it would happen, but for now she was still hopeful she might skip that phase all together.

Her fingers twisted around each other like coiling snakes as she tried to think about how to tell him she already had a date. Had this come up in normal conversation, she wouldn't have worried too much but since this was a sincere ask from Prat and not his usual "meet me here" demand, she felt more of a nauseous feeling of telling him no.

Clearly he had also been thinking to himself as he had vocalized something that sounded a little less like his usual demeanor despite his attempts to hide it, a trademarked Prat response that it was so obvious she would say yes because who would go with her? Who would she go with?

While she didn't say anything, and Prat hadn't outwardly said it exactly, the thought in her head that maybe one day nobody would go with her because she didn't look nice, or wasn't pleasing to be around stung a bit.

'Oh god the insanity might be kicking in.' she thought to herself as she gently scooped her hand through her hair and over her shoulder. It had grown longer again, she needed a trim... The nervous habit she had developed over the summer was back in full force as the potential rejection phrases swirled in her head, trying to find the kindest of ways to let Prat down without chasing him off.

She didn't want to hurt his feelings. She wasn't that kind of person. But she'd already promised her evening to Odilon and it would be unkinder to accept Prat's invitation and leave Odi hanging.

So she finally spoke.

"I- Well it's very kind of you to offer. I did enjoy our time together last ball... And during the Summer event... But I've already been asked. I have a date already." She spoke with a hushed but still vocal timbre.

The silence hung heavy between them as she waited for him to react. If she had to predict something? Prat would just walk away. He wasn't the kind of person that let things get to him in a way that was present to others. Unless it was something that he could use to lorde over others.

"But we can hang out after the ball. Or if you find another girl, you can bring her with you to hang out with me and my date." Siobhan said softly, resting her lithe hand against his shoulder, in an effort to comfort him. Her voice was, hopefully, soothing and sweeter than her normal voice towards him. The unfortunate feeling of guilt made her feel wrong for telling him no.

But she had made a promise to someone else, and after Odilon had saved her from drowning? It was the least she could do. Besides, Odi had come across as thinking she was pretty. Prat and Siobhan?

They were just friends. That was their whole relationship.

Right?

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| 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉: | 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: @Prat Pass|
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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Astro Tower

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Prat hadn't thought it to be a difficult endeavour. Asking Siobhan to the ball was supposed to be little more than a formality, a ticked box on his list of things to prepare before the inevitable night of posturing and spectacle. He hadn't bothered to think of a speech or come up with an actually clever phrasing for this invite. Why would he? In his mind, the answer had always been obvious to him and of course she'd say yes even if he didn't ask.

She always did, this time would be no different either.

Or so he thought as he broke the proposal to her.

Her words dropped like stones into water, each syllable sinking deeper into him than the last, much like arrows shot off a bow.

"I- Well it’s very kind of you to offer. I did enjoy our time together last ball… and during the Summer event… but I’ve already been asked. I have a date already."

The smug certainty that had carried him all the way up to the Astronomy Tower froze instantly, shattered clean through by that single sentence. For a moment, his chest felt hollow, his thoughts scrambled. The corners of his mouth twitched, he couldn't decide whether to sneer to laugh at the absurdity of it all. His expression stiffened, disappointment flickering across his features before he caught himself and slipped back into neutrality.

"I see," he said flatly to her, the words now felt heavier, with a sharp-edge attached to them. Far too thin to mask the sting.

In her attempt at consolation, she hadn't realized what she had done. Or maybe she did. Her hand settled lightly against is shoulder, a pathetic attempt at comforting the boy. It only made it worse. In Prat's mind, it wasn't a balm but a twist of knife she'd just plunged into him. He didn't want pity; not from her, not from anyone.

He turned his head slightly, regarding her with narrowed eyes. He would not let her see more than what he allowed. Disappointment, jealousy, that crawling feeling of rejection; all of them were already clawing at him, but he swallowed them down, burying them beneath layers of his self instilled indifference.

Her follow-up however, was worse. Much worse.

"But we can hang out after the ball. Or if you find another girl, you can bring her with you to hang out with me and my date."

The audacity. Prat had almost laughed, though there was nothing humorous about it. Bring another girl there and then what? sit there like some afterthought beside her and her discount date? The very suggestion was quite insulting with all things considered fair. Torture wrapped in casual sweetness. Did she fail to understand the weight of her words? Or was she just oblivious and stupid, genuinely believing she was somehow softening the blow for him?

"Yeah," he finally replied, tone stipped of warmth, sharp with that careless clarity he wore when he wished to keep others at a distance. "We can do that. I'll see you after the ball then. Or maybe at the ball, with your.........date." The pause before the last word was deliberate, barbed.

Prat leaned back against the wall, eyes fixed somewhere beyond the fading light through the tower window. Neutral expression, steady voice but inside? He was simmering with tinge of jealousy.

Who was it? That was the question that begun to quietly gnaw at him already. Who had dared to step in, to take what he had staked out for himself, before he had even considered it a contest? What did the date have that Prat seemingly lacked?

Jealousy burned underneath his skin, hot and unfamiliar. The boy had rarely allowed himself to feel such feelings openly. But within him now it laid bare, curling like smoke in the back of his skull, occasionally whispering vicious thoughts. Whoever the boy was, Prat could already picture the smug look on the person. The image made his jaw clench and his fingers curl a little. He imagined ways of erasing them from the equation altogether, quietly and cleanly. It wouldn't even take much of a push to have some hapless student go tumbling down the metaphorical or literal stairs.

He breathed out through his nose, steadying himself. Petty violence wasn't the answer, not yet. First, he needed to know his mark, to see, to measure. To trace their path. And once he had the name, face and the vulnerabilities, he'd decide to act.

Instead, he let his eyes flick towards her silhouette once again, expressions unreadable, though his voice was clipped when he spoke. "So. Who's the guy?" A casual question on the surface, but his gaze betrayed the demand beneath it.

If she answered, fine. If she didn’t, he would find out another way. He always did.

The silence that hung between them pressed heavier with each passing heartbeat. She had already spoken her piece, her guilt wrapped in sweetness, her hand on his shoulder as if that could erase the sting. But there was no erasing it.

His voice, when it came out once again, was now quieter, calmer, lower. "Enjoy your ball, Sio. Truly hope it's worth it."

He stood, brushing invisible dust from his trousers, pulling himself back into polished, controlled demeanor. If he lingered any more, the mask might crack. Better to leave her with ambiguity, to let her wonder and assume the measure of his genuine disappointment and cold dismissal.

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⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Stats: sta 6 ⊹ eva 8 ⊹ str 7 ⊹ wis 7 ⊹ arc 7 ⊹ acc 7 | Time: A Sunny Afternoon | CC:#2E8B57
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Prat's demeanor sent a sour feeling into the air as he spoke to her. His voice sent shivers down her spine in a way that made her shrink back slightly from wanting to apologize to him. It was unnatural to hear him speak this way to her, without an air of smugness and superiority. She could hear a slight twinge of wavering confidence in his tone in every word he spoke to her. Clipped short sentances, almost as if it was a bother to even dignify her response to him with a response.

Had she actually broken through that set of walls that he kept up and around himself?

"Prat wait-" She tried to reason with him but it seemed that he was pulling away from her faster than an out of control fishing line. His walls were higher, despite having come down slightly and his entire body felt as though it was filling with cement underneath her hand.

She was slightly annoyed with his behavior and demeanor now. Who was he to feel upset like this because she had been asked by another boy? Someone who didn't ask her as an after thought or formality but rather because they were genuinely interested in her or thought she was pretty? With Prat, he only ever sought her out it seemed, just to make sure that she would still follow him to wherever he wanted for whatever activity it was.

But she was going to be a bigger person and try to apologize once again. As she opened her mouth, a gruff and angry tone hit her with a "So. Who's the guy?" from Prat. She looked at his face- or the parts of it that she could make out, and saw the tremble in his features. Fluctuations in his muscles as he tried to control his temper and his expressions in front of her.

It looked like it was physically painful for him to do so.

"His name is Odilon Wilde. He's a Gryffindor in our year. Are you- Are you mad at me?" Siobhan vocalized in a timid but almost perplexed tone as she kept looking at him. Something in her was feeding into the idea that if she didn't keep looking at him that he would disappear from her completely and come back as something unrecognizable.

But the words he spoke next seemed to confirm her question as he quietly and with a scarily calm manner, said "Enjoy your ball, Sio. Truly hope it's worth it." before she felt the weight of his shoulder disappear from hers and her hand fell back towards her lap. She stood up almost immediatley and reached her hand out for him.

"What's that supposed to me- Hey! I'm talking to you! Don't just walk away from me like- like I'm not trying to apologize!" Siobhan demanded of him as her fingers brushed the back of his arm but just slightly too far out of reach. The annoyance in her stomach rose higher, sour and curdeled like milk left in the sun.

"You follow this pattern every time Prat. Just expecting me to be available and at your beck and call whenever you feel the boredom arises. I'm sorry that I said no, but someone else thought to ask me because they wanted to and didn't demand that I go with them places." Siobhan spat as she stood her ground with her hands on her hips.

Sheer audacity, was the best way that she could describe the actions he was acting with towards her. This technical tantrum he was throwing was something she wanted no part of. It wasn't her fault that he always waited until the last minute to ask her for things.

But Siobhan still felt bad. Clearly this news had upset him, even if he didn't want her to think it did. His actions, and his voice, the way that he so coldly got up- it was evident towards her and it stung. A rational part of her mind tried to remind her that it was not her own pride and feelings that had been hurt, and for her to feel so upset and angered by his response was unjust and mean. The more irrational part however, just wanted to feel better about the fact that her decision was just that; her decision.

"Run away I guess. I thought maybe you finally had the ability to show some sort of emotion that wasn't cocky confidence." She fussed as she let her arms fold into a defensive cross across her body. The ball hadn't even started and she wasn't about to let someone like him sour the experience of her first date ever with his emotions and his inconsistency in being a normal expressive human.

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| 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉: | 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: @Prat Pass|
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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Astro Tower

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Prat could fell the words catch in his throat as soon as they left hers. Her answer wasn't one he had calculated, and now the boy was left standing there like a fool, a court jester in the court of clowns.

The sharp, cold mask and it's associated tone came back onto him almost by instinct, his voice clipped, cut short, as if he couldn't bother to waste syllables on the poor woman standing before him. It wasn't weakness or heartbreak, it was merely another moment of control.

He had no will to dignify her with the satisfaction of peering into what laid behind the walls he had managed to put up.

"Prat, wait—" she called after the viper, voice softening, almost trembling with what might have been regret settling in her bones.

"I don't believe there's any reason to." His reply was curt, even as his jaw tightened. They boy's walls rose higher than they had ever been with her, a defensive stance to shield from what had always been an unfamiliar feeling so far.

What was left for her to reason with, anyway? She had made her choices and he wasn't mad at her for making them. Only, she had taken what was his formality, his offer, an assumption of her continued presence and shattered it. Consolation mattered very little at the place they stood. The moment in the pages of time was already long gone.

But then, the words tumbled out of him before he could pace himself, curiosity always got the best of the cat. A challenge in voice and a hidden venomous tone in the question, "So, Who's the guy?"

He didn't even understand why he asked. Maybe it was pride, or perhaps cruelty. To see her pick and judge him in comparison. Or maybe it was the desperate need to see the form and shape of the knife she had so calmly slid into his chest.

"His name is Odilon Wilde. He’s a Gryffindor in our year. Are you—are you mad at me?"

Prat knew who Odilon Wilde was. Of course he did. You could say most names in Hogwarts and chances were, Prat would know. He didn't particularly dislike the gryffindork boy either, Odlion wasn't an irritating nobody who hung around others for scraps. No, he was quite fine as long as the boy remained in his own lane.

But Odilon was attempting to be a replacement for him, which, considering all things was quiet laughable in Prat's mind. Sad, even Pathetic. The boy could try all he liked, he'd never come close.

He looked at Sio with a strain in his voice, features twisting in ways he'd hated to be displayed. Disappointment, pity and finally the familiar comfort of detachment.
"No, I'm not mad. Why the fuck would I be mad? I'm not mad at you, not at all."

The words were hollow, performative, they stopped sounding like him a while ago.

And then came the knife he had decided to turn on himself, speaking in a voice that was perhaps too calm and too quiet for the setting they were present in.

"Enjoy your ball, Sio. Truly hope it's worth it."

The weight of his shoulders left hers and her hand slipped back into her lap like the past few moments had been spent within the reaches of a ghost, barely grasping her hand. He walked, each step a deliberate movement, each step meant to carry him farther from the conversation lest he let himself bleed too much.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Her voice rang sharper now, like nails on a chalkboard, laced with that stubborn spark she always seemed to hold. She even reached for him, brushing his arm before he managed to maneuver it outside her grasp; the audacity. "Don't just walk away from me like—like I'm not trying to apologize!"

That stopped him, for a breath, but it did make him cease. He turned towards her, voice still flat,
"You can keep your apology. I did not ask for them, nor will they change a damn thing once your decision has been made."

He might have stopped if it wasn't for her, who didn't stop at all. Her voice rose, following him like an eldritch creature hellbent on not letting the boy depart: "You follow this pattern every time, Prat. Just expecting me to be available and at your beck and call whenever you feel the boredom arises. I'm sorry that I said no, but someone else thought to ask me because they wanted to and didn't demand that I go with them places."

That was enough to make something snap, something small that he had been doing his best to block off. He whirled, frustration breaking through his mask, voice raised in ways he rarely let.

"If you hated me calling you for things that much, maybe you shouldn't have come the first time! I don't call you whenever boredom arises. I have a thousand different things I could be doing. You think you were doing me a favour all this time? I was making a conscious choice." His laugh was bitter, sharp. "Whoever you found for the ball; good for you two."

"Now, you won't have to be bothered about my patterns, I won't call out to you, Ever. Enjoy your stupid ball date"

"and don't come after me on the stairs, you could fall."

Even in the rage and hurt, he couldn't like the idea of her tumbling down the stairs, ridiculous at it was, he'd have hated for her demise to come from poorly operated staircase. He still did care enough to warn her.

Prat kept moving until her voice lashed again, cutting through the silent atmosphere that had fallen momentarily. "Run away, I guess. I thought maybe you finally had the ability to show some sort of emotion that wasn’t cocky confidence."

That one made him stop. Slowly, he turned back, eyes cold. Voice coming out in low, sharp bites, but as much insightful as always. "I'm not running away. I'm leaving an unpleasant conversation that will benefit neither of us any further. AND—" he words spiked sharper, pride flaring even as his chest ached as the altercation. "You wish you had even half my confidence, we both know you could certainly use it."

The moment his words left him mouth, he regretted them. He saw them land, the edge of them hitting harder than he meant, even if unintentionally. His lips pressed tighter, flare in his chest souring into a heavier weight. He exhaled sharply, huffing out air like it might burn the words away from her memory.

"....I didn't mean it like that" His tone softened, though it still carried that rough edge, like he was dragging the apology out of himself unwillingly. "I didn't. I just—" He broke off, teeth grinding. There was no salvaging this situation.

"Forget it. Just forget it."

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⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Stats: sta 6 ⊹ eva 8 ⊹ str 7 ⊹ wis 7 ⊹ arc 7 ⊹ acc 7 | Time: A Sunny Afternoon | CC:#2E8B57
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It was like she'd been slapped.

It wasn't as though it was unexpected, especially from someone like him, but the words he spat at her with a vile and betrayed tone of voice stung her as though he had just backhanded her across the face with something heavy. There was a momentary silence as her brained whirred with a thousand different speeds trying to grasp what it was that he had just told her.

'You wish you had half even my confidence, and we both know you could certainly use it.'

His words stung harder because he knew about her insecurities with herself. There was so much she had confided to him, with the guise that he was her friend and somewhere deep within him, he actually cared about her. That to use her feelings, her difficulties and her emotions against her by placing emphasis on the word 'you', it was as if he had been waiting for her to do something or say something for him to churn this statement out and force her to confront it.

She was for once, truly and most decidedly, lost for words.

Her mouth closed, her shoulder fell into a gentle stance, though by no means was her body in a gentle disposition, and her eyes looked ahead at him. If one had been looking at Siobhan from the sidelines, they would have seen whatever color and light had been left in the scarred irises of her skull float away with every passing second between the two. One could watch the hollowness sink into her body, effectively shrinking her from the point of view of others in a metaphorical sense.

Siobhan was pretty sure the only thing she could hear at the moment was the rining of some distant bell. There was a disorted noise coming from the direction that Prat had been in but she could not for the life of her make out the words.

The only words of his that she could hear anymore was just the last sentence that he had thrown in her face which hurt.

She felt numb, hollow, and empty. A fragment of herself as Prat berated her for her decisions, her apology that he refused to accept, and the fact that she had no confidence in herself or her actions. Siobhan felt a slight shake in her fingers that traveled to her wrists as she stood there and absorbed what he had said to her.

It felt like an eternity before Prat spoke again, attempting to backtrack what he had thrown at her in a moment of anger. She took a shaky breath, and started to walk past him, feeling around for the door that led out of the Astronomy Tower. Once she found the handle, her fingers had slipped off of the knob once before she was able to open the door. The darkness of the stair had never seemed darker as she stared down the descent of the tower.

The spiral made her sick to her stomach, but nothing had made her feel sicker than Prat telling her that she had no confidence. She knew that- but it didn't mean he needed to say it.

All of the moments between them started to seem superficial. The shared excitement, the heartfelt discussion of their shared insecurities, the moment between them at the fireworks. The fact that he'd held her hands throughout most of their hangouts felts sticky with lies- her handsfelt as though they had been burned when she thought about the way his hands had felt in hers and how somehow they just fit and it felt nice.

But it all felt fake now. She wished she'd never accepted any of his demands and just ignored him like he had spat at her. Maybe itwould hurt so much when he yelled at her like this.

A pathetic hiccup escaped her throat as she strived to keep it together. Siobhan was not going to cry over this boy behind her. He wasn't worth it, and according to what he had just said to her- she wasn't worth much to him.

Hot angry tears had finally started to fall down her face and she used the edge of her sweater to wipe them away from her eyes as she sniffled and tried to stop her emotions from getting the better of her. Everything hurt, but Prat didn't deserver any more of her tears. With a bit of a struggle, she pulled herself together enough to speak at him.

If he wanted her to forget... then she would.

"Sure- I forgot why I came here anyway." she murmured as her shoulders shook with a sob she couldn't control and she stumbled down the stairs as fast as she could away from Prat.

Away from this horrible moment.

If she didn't see him for a while she wouldn't care. The stairs echoed with her desperate steps as she ran away from him as best she could without her sight.

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| 𝑰𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉: | 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: @Prat Pass|
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅