Top Hat, White Tie and Tails pv: Adeline Spinks

Of course, Sinclair heard the pitter patter of someone's feet heading towards where she sat by the lake. The footsteps were not heavy, so she deduced it was possibly a girl. She shut her eyes briefly and pressed her forehead into her palm, as if she could will the universe to make the person decide to direct their curiosity elsewhere. The forest nearby and the autumn ball's creatures and participants hummed with magic and the unknown. As much as she tried to get used to it, her intuition prickled her skin and made her too aware of her surroundings, causing a need to step away to deal with whatever sorrows that had been amplified by it all.

The pitter patter stopped much too close to her, and dread twisted in her gut as she heard her name. Noise and adrenaline from her previous little outburst still buzzed in her head as she imagined the tea saucer sinking down into the murky lake. Sinclair peered from under her hand towards that familiar voice, and sat up in a forced nonchalant manner once she realised who it was, her fingers loosely laced together. Knowing that she was in good company, her demeanour seemed to ease just a little, though she still seemed distant. A short, polite smile was forced as a greeting. She briefly noted Adeline's sailor dress, her mildly flushed face and breathlessness—the aftermath of a jog. Sinclair turned her head away once more, blankly gazing back towards the lake and the shimmering candle lights of the Lost Pearl.

"Hmm," a small noise of acknowledgement. "My mother put this together for me," Sinclair stated simply.

Observing Adeline's playful interaction with her hat, Sinclair absentmindedly caught the sailor hat tossed toward her lap. She raised a brow subtly, the corner of her lips lifting in a brief amusement at the Ravenclaw's charming pose. Her thumb brushed against the fabric of the sailor hat, pausing when her top hat was returned to her. Sinclair handed Addie's hat back to her, adjusted her top hat by the brim, and let it sit on her head tilted instead. If she had a cigarette between her fingers, she would've looked like Marlene Dietrich in her androgynous phase.

She watched Addie sit beside her, though gazed back out at the lake towards the ship and the quivering lights reflected on the lake. The Gryffindor, guarded and deflective, gently knitted her brow in denial seemingly confused at the question, "I'm not sure what you're hinting at... I just wanted to step away from... all that," she sighed towards the end and lazily gestured towards the distant ship, "I could ask you the same, since you jogged over to me." She was unaware that anyone had seen her toss the saucer, and assumed it was something between her and herself. She'd rather keep it that way. Her sharp gaze, slightly softened by weariness, warily settled on Addie's friendly face as if analysing her intent.

The Gryffindor wasn't so sure if she had indeed been spotted with her saucer, but it was possible enough that she began to feel a little defensive and ashamed of it. Sinclair nonetheless hid it behind blank, calculative eyes as she considered Addie's words.
We aren't really friends. Addie's words echoed in her head. It was true, and a part of Sinclair told her to keep her distance and not have high expectations, while another part felt just a little hopeful. She was young, and despite preferring solitude most of the time, the kid didn't want total social isolation. At home, she'd spend time with her parents and the farm animals, but at Hogwarts...? Despite being surrounded by people, she did not seem to have much luck finding a place of belonging. She felt as if no one knew her.

Perhaps it was in the way that her tailcoat and white tie hugged her body and the faint rumble of music in the air that made her feel particularly sentimental tonight. Her mind flit off to her mother's old 30s musical films and she could not help but imagine dancing with a friend in her outfit, despite not quite being in the mood to dance at all. It was romanticization, a fantasy of joy and synchronisation that only made reality more obvious. Her fingers pinched the cloth of her trousers, fidgeting with the fabric.
She could tell that Addie was making an effort to check in on her, and while she wasn't sure why the girl would care, she did indeed feel off this night. Another time and she may have clammed up immediately.
"I'm not sure I'm waiting for anything," Sinclair seemed a little lost in thought. Her voice lowered with a hint of desolation, "...She's never going to come." The words left her with a certain firmness, as if hearing them aloud would convince herself to let go.

She. The Gryffindor's gut twisted at the question. Hearing someone else mention the topic that had been gnawing at her for months solidified it and grounded it in reality—no longer a mere obsession in her own mind. There was then a warm pressure on her shoulder and Sinclair subtly tensed up, hairs standing on the back of her neck. She grew awfully still, like a cat thinking it would not be seen if it just stopped moving. Sinclair couldn't remember the last time she were touched with care. Perhaps at home, during early summer? Either way, it caught her completely off guard. Despite preferring solitude, the absence of that hand left her body feeling too cold. She did not understand it.

Sinclair exhaled silently, caught between answering or not, trying to form words. She definitely was not in the mood for a duel, and she did not want to yet again give up her spot—a spot that she came to first. For a few moments, silence fell between them.

"I'm...not sure it is worth mentioning," she muttered dismissively. It was silly. Juvenile. They were feelings that did not matter, not compared to the two open caskets and the suffocating heat that summer. "...Just...a childish one-sided friendship," a short pause, "It'd be easier to feel nothing at all." Guarded, the kid leaned her elbows against her knees.

I'm probably half way there anyways. She thought bitterly, eyes blankly staring out into the rippling lake. Speaking about herself, about her own mind and troubles did not seem like something she was used to, nor anything she was comfortable with. Behind the blank, unfeeling stare, the girl mentally prepared herself to be abandoned again once her schoolmate had lost interest in her.