Counting PV Selim Faust Finished

@Ruka Tân

___ ___ ___

Selim looked up from where he was reading in the abandoned classroom when he heard a crash outside. Blinking blandly, he got up, dusting off his robes and shutting the tome his brother had gifted him, sliding it into his bookbag.

His mind had been keeping him up with thoughts of what he had done six days ago, causing him to forgo sleep completely throughout the day and night, and he had felt too sick to the stomach to go to dinner that day, thanks to the memories.

So instead he took to the relaxing activity of reading.

Well... if reading about how it may be possible to syphon someone's life force to make you live longer could be considered relaxing, that is.

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he quietly walked tot he door, opening it as silently as he could and peering outside.

Upon seeing nothing nearby, he walked out of the abandoned room, closing the door behind him, and stepped into the corridor, glancing down either side, he turned walking int the direction he had heard the noise come from.

Instinctively, he kept to what shadows there were, walking on the stone floor with steps a tad quieter then normal. Eventually, he arrived on the scene, eyebrow raising as he took in the sight before him.

There on the ground, was a boy he recognized from the day he had gotten deathly ill... what was his name again...?

He had to scan his memories for a few moments to remember it; Ruka Tân.

Usually he didn't forget such info, especially if it was connected to a second year who seemed to almost worship his dormmate for Merlin-knows-what reason.

The upperclassmen seemed to have knocked down a full suit of armor, the sword of which lie dangerously close to him upon falling. Honestly, the scene didn't raise his respects for the Gryffindor in the slightest.

Walking over as the boy stared at the fallen pieces of armor, after verbally asking himself how he was going to fix such a thing, Selim stooped down, picking up the sword with the sound of steel dragging on stone.

He hefted the sharpened piece of iron into his hands, the thing being at least a quarter of his size, he inspected it, letting it glint in the torchlight.

"A longsword," He stated monotonously. Idly he tested it's weight, "Almost perfectly balanced, very lovely craftsmanship, but personally I prefer the daggers and the tanto." He mused out loud to himself, voice blank of any emotion.

Maneuvering it to rest the tip of the blade on the floor, he looked expressionlessly down at the boy on the ground. "Enjoying a stroll are we? I'd suggest not leaning on the stands of armor, but it seems you've already figured that out the hard way." His tone didn't hint to teasing nore mocking, more like cold observation.

The light in his eyes seemed to have dulled since the last time he and the Gryffindor met, for good reason. Selim had become more... lifeless, since what had happened between him and his dormmate... numb. Though instead of such a thing being brought on by another episode, or distrust... it seemed more like it was more like... a part of him?

Honestly, after what he had done, it wouldn't be unexpected... but Jack had gotten what he wanted, trust, even if it wasn't complete in the slightest.

His eyes strayed to the pieces of armor on the ground, then to the armor stand, "It would be best to just leave this to be cleaned by the house elves, unless you know the spell to fix this mess, that is."

He looked back at the boy, mind largely empty of any actual thought of him. He'd have probably just turn and walk back to his abandoned classroom dismissively had his etiquette training not kept him there.

Whatever, he didn't much care anymore, apathy was easier then caring, that much he knew.

@Selim Faust

For a long while Ruka just stared at the pieces of the suit of armour, wand uselessly in hand as he stood up to get a better view of the mess. Would a simple Reparo do the trick on something so heavy and big? Would he risk impaling himself with that sword should the spell fail?

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn‘t hear the approaching footsteps, and the presence of another person startled him so much in the moment that he actually stumbled backwards, only just catching himself from tumbling against the wall.

The boy who had joined him on the scene was simultaneously familiar and completely foreign to Ruka at the same time. Selim looked almost as terrible as he had the last time Ruka had seen him; his face still clearly spoke of sleep deprivation and his small frame didn‘t seem like it had been getting the right amount of food either. Where Ruka‘s mental and physical state had slightly improved over the past week, Selim‘s seemed to have stayed the same, if not worsened. 

At least he wasn‘t coughing up all his internal organs this time, so that could be counted as an improvement. 

Ruka watched through narrowed eyes as Selim picked up the sword with surprising expertise, and for a moment the young Gryffindor expected to be impaled with the sharp blade for no real reason other than that Selim had a sword and Ruka had probably made some very disturbing noise when he‘d made the suit of armour crash.

However, instead the Slytherin started talking about what kind of sword he was handling there, and how he preferred other weapons to it. Ruka didn‘t know much about Selim, but there was definitely something mildly concerning about an eleven year old boy who knew that much about swords and daggers.

Ruka opted not to say anything just yet, instead obsessively tapping two of his fingers against his thigh over and over again.

One, two, three

One, two, three

One, two, three

Selim made him nervous for reasons he couldn‘t really understand himself; reasons that went beyond the fact that the Slytherin seemed to be armed every time Ruka got to see him.

The words about how Ruka wasn‘t supposed to lean against the suits of armour were met with raised eyebrows and a lazy shrug from the young Gryffindor. „You don‘t say,“ he snarled, eyes flicking across the metal pieces scattered on the floor. This had definitely been a lesson learned.

Daringly Ruka stepped closer, bare toes almost touching the tip of the sword where Selim had rested it against the ground. „You look horrible,“ he pointed out, deciding  against any unnecessary pleasantries. „When‘s the last time you slept?“ He frowned, mustering the other boy for a moment. The bags under his eyes seemed even darker against his pale skin, and there was something in his gaze that was almost... frightening. 

Something cold and empty that hadn‘t been there that day at the lake.

Ruka tilted his head to the side thoughtfully, worrying his bottom lip for a moment. He ignored Selim‘s advice to leave the mess for the houseelves to clean up, instead reaching out to where the other boy was gripping the hilt of the sword. „Give me that?“ he asked, voice much steadier than he had thought it would be when faced with someone sleep deprived and apathetic holding a sword. „You make me nervous just by yourself already. When you‘re holding things with sharp edges it makes me feel like I‘m going to die in the very near future.“

@Ruka Tân

___ ___ ___

Selim eyed the Gryffindor's fingers as they tapped rhythmically against his thigh. Seemed like a tic, but he hadn't seen him do such a thing during their time in the lake or hospital wing, if he remembered correctly.

The boy's face had twisted into a snarl at his comment about not leaning on the armor stands, and he responded snappishly, Selim's visage hadn't even twitched at the scalding tone the upperclassmen used, instead staring down at him with the same cold expression.

The Gryffindor then stood up, walking towards him in a challenging fashion, and pointing out that he looked rather unsightly, before asking when the last time he had slept was. Selim stared at him stonily as he said this, and a few moments after, before answering in a cool voice.

"Yesterday, during History class." He didn't show any expression while saying that sentence, staring stonily down at the slightly shorter boy.

The Gryffindor then held out a hand, asking for the sword. "You make me nervous just by yourself already. When you‘re holding things with sharp edges it makes me feel like I‘m going to die in the very near future."

Looking at him blankly, Selim responded, "You think I'm going to stab you? Why would I do that, I have nothing to gain from killing you." He took a few steps back, sliding into a stance, and swinging the sword up so it rested lightly on the other boy's chest. "I could if I wanted to, I have the training needed to slit your throat right here and now..." He trailed the sword up so that it rested under the smaller boy's chin, holding it for a moment... then he pulled the blade back, standing up straighter in a relaxed pose, sword tip once more resting against the floor, "But don't want to. I don't just go around stabbing people, Gryffindor." He looked him up and down, before continuing, "Besides, I doubt you could even hold this, it's heavier then I make it seem."

His face had remained expressionless as he said all this, he didn't really care if the boy feared him, and he hadn't the faintest reason as to why he did. Selim hadn't shown any ill intent towards the boy beyond when the first met, and only Jack had caught onto it.

Those feelings had long since dispersed, he didn't care anymore about whether or not the fox had feelings towards this upperclassmen, it was merely a fact he kept stored inside the archives of his mind, collecting dust until he was in a situation that needed it.

His dormmate was the only thing he 'cared' about now, as a business partner, as someone he needed to learn to trust, someone he shared a mutual contract with. That was the only person that he needed to keep interest in, lest he break the conditions that were made concrete a mere three days ago.

No one else in this cursed school mattered, he didn't care if they lived, or died, if some were evil or good, stable or unstable. He didn't care.

The only reason he would care is if they were his enemies.

@Selim Faust

Ruka eyed the Slytherin in front of him for any trace of emotion in those blank eyes, any movement that would betray his thoughts in any way, but Selim didn’t give anything away, remained cold as a statue, even when he answered Ruka’s question about when he had last slept.

The Gryffindor snorted ungracefully at the response; it was evasive and predictable in a way he hadn’t expected from this boy who seemed so smart and calculated at all times. “I wasn’t asking about table top naps,” he pointed out, eyes narrowed as he mustered Selim carefully. 
If yesterday during class had been the last time he had napped, then Ruka didn’t even want to imagine when he had last slept.

Not that Ruka could blame him in any way; he had gone through his fair share of weeks and months of not letting sleep take control of his brain before, but he remembered Jack’s concern for Selim’s sleeping pattern back at the Hospital Wing, and he couldn’t help but prod the subject a little bit anyway.

Mere curiosity.

For a second Ruka just stood and stared at the sword at his feet, barely blinking when it was lifted up to rest the tip against his chest instead.
The sensation he got was not the one he had expected upon being threatened by a sword; he’d expected fear to make him shiver, for his muscles to tense, his feet trying to run away with fright.
Instead he managed to keep up a bored expression as he let Selim trail the sword up to his neck, right up to under his chin. For a second he held his breath as the cold metal made contact with his skin, but his muscles relaxed again immediately. It came as a blunt shock to him, but he realised in that moment that even if Selim was going to slit his throat like he had threatened he’d be able to, Ruka couldn’t find it in himself to feel scared. 

On the contrary, his mind rested easy for a second as he considered everything to just stop with a well executed movement of Selim’s arm. All the pounding in his head, the racing thoughts, the nightmares of his dad, the constant struggle to force himself to take in some food, the one, two, three, all of it, was so close to being over.

Do it then, he almost wanted to say, arms moving out towards his sides in a faint shrug.

“I never said I thought you were going to stab me,” he pointed out as Selim eventually removed the sword, a dreadful sense of disappointment flooding his veins. “I said seeing you with a weapon makes me feel like I could die soon. Like it’s some kind of bad omen.” Technicalities were important, and Ruka wasn’t going to just let Selim turn his words in his mouth.

Yes, Selim made him feel uneasy and nervous, and yes, a part of him imagined that the Slytherin could potentially just snap and impale him with whatever edged blade he had on him, but he had never assumed it was Selim’s sole intention to stab him.

As the Slytherin had said himself; he had nothing to gain from that.

“I’m sure I could handle it for a few minutes,” he pointed out with a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I’d only drag it away from you, I wasn’t planning on swinging it at anybody.”

With a little sigh, Ruka put his wand back into his pocket, one hand still outstretched in expectation of being handed the sword. “And if you’re not going to stab me, then what’s the harm in giving me the sword? Might even cause you some vague amusement to watch me collapse under its weight, no?”

@Ruka Tân

___ ___ ___

The boy's eyes narrowed as he pointed out that naps apparently don't count as sleeping. Selim shrugged uncaringly in response. The boy then let a moment of silence stretch between them, staring at his feet. He didn't react when Selim brought the sword up against his chest, then neck. Selim coldly filed this as a lack of self-preservation. He almost seemed relaxed at the possibility of death. Again, Selim cooly calculated that perhaps this upperclassmen was suicidal? He wasn't entirely sure but the signs seemed to be there.

For a brief moment, he sympathised.

The moment passed in a millisecond, even as he dropped the sword's tip back to the ground.

At the next words from the boy, Selim blinked slightly, "You're comparing me to a bad omen?" He lifted up his free hand, looking at it in contemplation for a few moments, before briefly closing his eyes and letting it drop. Upon them opening again he stared steadily at the Gryffindor, "I suppose such a thing could be possible."

The boy then pointed out that he could hold it for a few moments, saying he'd only drag it away from him. “And if you’re not going to stab me, then what’s the harm in giving me the sword? Might even cause you some vague amusement to watch me collapse under its weight, no?”

Selim stared at him blankly, before stating one simple word, "Doubtful." He then looked down at the blade and back to his hand, absently rubbing his right arm with he free hand, trailing his fingers along where he knew scars to be. "I still see no point to handing it to you." So instead of doing that, he maneuvered around the boy, dropping the sword down beside the fallen chestplate of the armor. A loud clang emanated down the corridor, which he ignored. He then walked back to his previous spot, standing laxly, hands in his pockets as he gaze dully and the second-year. "Better?"

Looking around briefly, Selim spoke once more, voice as lifeless as his eyes. "I'll be going now. There's no point in talking to you, I just wanted to check to see what that sound was."

Without another word, he turned around beginning to simply walk away so he wouldn't have to deal with another human being. He didn't care as much to keep up conversations out of civility. If his etiquette teacher were here, he'd get hit with her evil ruler right on the head... but she wasn't, so what was the point of carrying out her teachings?

He just wanted to get back to reading.

@Selim Faust

For months Ruka had internally battled with an emotional turmoil he neither understood nor knew how to deal with. First there had been the anger, the need to blame someone for the state of things, his mother for leaving when he was only a baby, his father for being too stubborn to get the help he really needed, other people for not doing anything when they saw people in need.

Then there had come the emptiness, the withdrawal from other people, the lack of empathy towards his peers. It was when he had stopped eating, stopped caring what he wore and how it would present to anybody else. The only emotion he thought he really knew at that point was the irrational panic that had filled him at night when sleep was threatening to take him in and make him relive his father‘s death over and over again in his dreams.

He thought to recognise the emptiness in Selim‘s face and voice, in his body language even, but he wasn‘t sure where it came from. That day at the lake, and with Jack in the hospital wing, Selim had seemed withdrawn and frankly like someone he wouldn‘t necessarily want to share a breakfast muffin with, but this deep pit of apathy had not been that visible and Ruka couldn‘t help but wonder what had brought it on.

He hummed lightly when Selim agreed that it was possible that he could be a bad omen, and Ruka watched as the Slytherin looked at his own hand like there was a phantom action stitched on the palm of it.
The Gryffindor narrowed his eyes slightly, interest sparked by that little motion that maybe didn‘t have to mean anything but caught his attention either way.

Nerves tingling a little bit, Ruka didn‘t turn to watch Selim putting the sword away, instead tapped his fingers against his thigh again; one, two, three, one, two three. For all he knew Selim could attack him from the back, but he heard the clattering of metal on the floor a short moment later, and the insistent tapping of his fingers against the rough material of his trousers stopped with the sound.

„Good enough,“ he confirmed Selim‘s question, eyes watching as the other boy seemed to want to leave, his words bored and careless, clearly not even bothered to keep up a well-mannered appearance.

One, two, three

No, that wouldn‘t do.
Ruka took a few steps towards the Slytherin and reached out to hold him back by his arm, which, in hindsight, probably wasn‘t the best idea he‘d ever had.

He let go of Selim‘s arm almost instantly, but didn‘t step back from the other boy, fully prepared to be physically attacked for overstepping boundaries.

„How‘s Jack?“ he asked with narrowed eyes and seemingly out of the blue. He hadn‘t seen the other Slytherin around since the weekend, had received a letter telling him not to worry, that Jack simply wasn‘t feeling well. Ruka hadn‘t questioned why he hadn‘t gone to the Hospital Wing for whatever was plaguing him, but seeing Selim like this, he couldn‘t help but wonder if Jack‘s renewed disappearance had something to do with Selim‘s dwindling empathy levels. „Is he doing any better?“

He kept his question purposely vague, trying to gauge any information he could from Selim‘s reaction. He didn‘t expect there to be much, but maybe just a flicker of something at the mention of the person who seemed to care the most about Selim‘s physical and mental condition...

It was worth a try.

Jack surely wouldn‘t like seeing his dorm mate like this, and for all Ruka knew, Selim was avoiding the other Slytherin again, so he figured he was the next best thing to at least try and figure out why Selim had seemingly lost his interest in life even more than Ruka himself.

@Ruka Tân

___ ___ ___

Selim tensed as he felt a hand grabbing his, stopping his motion and freezing, the hand quickly let go, but he stayed facing the opposite direction. A brief moment of panic had flared through him with the physical contact, but it quickly disappeared, apathy returning like a persistent shadow.

"How‘s Jack?"

Those words made him pause, something briefly gripping his chest, making it the slightest bit harder to breath. Slowly, he stood up straight, eyes downcast, hair covering his face, back still facing the Gryffindor.

"Is he doing any better?"

Selim was silent for a long moment, memories churning through his mindscape, clouding him, as they had been for the last week. When he spoke, his voice was as toneless as ever, but seemed softer. Whether that gentleness was from guilt or care, the upperclassmen wouldn't know, it was an indiscernible emotion, muddled like murky waters. His few words would either puzzle the Gryffindor or ease him, Selim thought, calculating the possible reactions.

He spoke, simple words, yet full of unknown meanings, "He's healing."

Weather Ruka Tân would translate this to him healing from sickness, or something else entirely, was up to him. Selim wasn't one to give such information away with definite meaning.

After he had spoken, he was tempted to leave, but one question was niggleing at the back of his blurry mind. He contemplated asking it, wondering if it was worth the effort to sate his mild, muted curiosity, and decided that it was. He didn't have much better to do anyways, he was still only an eighth through the tome his elusive nii-san had sent him, and he had a good few months to get further through it until summer came. Then he would be forced to return to his clan, locked away behind hidden walls and a forest of trees, and trained until his body screamed for rest.

He turned around, once more facing the boy with his expressionless visage, "Tell me, Little Lion, why is it that you care for the fox? Do you love him? Worship him? Depend on him like a weak fawn depends on their mother to survive?" He tilted his head, expression still cold, and unforthcoming, "Can you truely not depend on yourself? Are you too broken to stand on your own two feet? Lack self-discipline to survive for those you care about?" His tone now held a hint of clinical intrigue. Eyes slightly narrowing, he went on, "Because what I know for sure, is that in the end, we have to depend on ourselves to survive. If you can't do that much, you'll wither away and die, alone, like a decaying rose."

His tone spoke that he truly believe these words, words pounded into his head by his father, his clansmen. At an early age he was taught this, right after his parents revealed through their actions that they care not for him beyond his destiny to continue the clan as its leader. A bleak idea of the future, making his perspective of the world dull, clinical as his voice.He became pragmatic, with no real reason given for him to continue living beyond the fact that if he ended himself, he would be useless, weak, as prey is to a predator.

He grew up on this belief, though focused his mind solely on surviving, that was truly his only goal, beyond his cold interests in merging the magic and muggle world.

This goal was hidden behind his self-made masks, as well the lack of feelings attached to it. All that was largely stripped away by what happened on March 1st, what was unknown, hidden behind doors. Now, part of his true state of mind was free for everyone to see, like an open wound is to air.

A piece of his actual self was being shown, and still, he couldn't find it in him to care.

His father would be proud. Finally, he was numb.

@Selim Faust

When Selim stopped, Ruka braced himself for a moment, expecting a push and shove to follow the fact that he had just grabbed the Slytherin’s arm to prevent him from leaving.

The physical impact, however, didn’t come.

No, the Slytherin boy simply stopped in his tracks, back towards the Gryffindor like he couldn’t even be bothered to look back anymore. Ruka wondered whether that came from how little Selim cared, or if he simply didn’t want Ruka to see his face as he answered.

Either way, when the Slytherin answered there was a slight change in his voice, something that suggested that he wasn’t completely done experiencing emotions just yet. His words were softer somehow, his back straightened like he needed to regain a somewhat built together appearance to be able to deliver his answer. 

He’s healing.

It was an odd choice of words to talk about someone who assumably was recovering from a flu of sorts, and Ruka tilted his head to the side curiously as he kept an eye on the tight set of Selim’s shoulders.

Healing was typically something Ruka associated with injuries - His burns took a long time to heal, the cuts on the soles of his feet usually took a few weeks to heal - whereas he would have used the word recover when talking about an ailment like the one Jack had suggested to have in his letter. 
Selim could have said Jack was recovering, was getting better, was not snotting all over the rest of their dorm anymore, but he had said healing, and it raised a red flag in his head that made him grab his wand where it rested in the pocket of his trousers.

While Selim’s back was still turned, Ruka carefully pulled it out and tapped it against his knee three times.

One, two, three

He knew it was irrational, knew that his wand was no use to him right this instance, but something about having it at the ready made his nerves calm down a bit, his thoughts a little less rapid.

“Hospital Wing would have probably helped him along with the process,” he said vaguely, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth to gnaw on it for a little while. Worry filled him where emptiness had resided before, but he refused to let it show on his face.

Whatever Jack was healing from, he clearly hadn’t wanted Ruka to worry about it, and Selim didn’t seem like he really wanted to dig deeper into the subject either, so it had to be something bigger than just a nasty flu.

Had it been any other person, Ruka would have asked what they had meant, whether Jack was hurt, whether something bad had happened, but with Selim...
He didn’t know how to talk to the other Slytherin without feeling like he was stepping further into a nest of poisonous snakes with every passing word.

Should Selim have anything to say about his observation of Jack not having sought out the help of the nurses, Ruka would gladly try to dig deeper, but for now he thought it better not to pry even further into the subject.

Instead, he focused on the fact that the other boy had finally turned to face him again, expression still void of any emotion, and his words biting at Ruka like tiny snakes with sharp fangs. 

He felt the tension growing in his jaw, his grip tightening on his wand. One look down showed the tip of his wand sparking out small flames that immediately turned to smoke in mid air - possibly the result of the pent up energy that came with Selim’s words.

One, two, three

One, two, three

His left hand tapped his thigh repeatedly as he listened, face flushing in an embarrassed red.

Selim was relentless in his accusations of why Ruka would possibly care about Jack, ranging from love and worship to Ruka’s own inability to survive without someone else to keep him on his feet. 

For a second Ruka was shell shocked, eyes wide as he stared at Selim, wand still tightly clutched in his hand. He hadn’t realised that he’d taken a step towards the other boy, his own mind overpowering him with the need to make the other boy stop talking.

It was the same feeling that had made him raise his wand at the kid in the abandoned bathrooms, had made him put a hex on the kid and then leave without sticking around for the consequences.
This time he hadn’t lifted his wand, wasn’t about to make Selim stop talking by using magic, wouldn’t stoop that low again, but his teeth were clenched and his free hand was balled into a fist by his side.

“Funny, I was wondering the same thing about you,” he said through gritted teeth, eyeing Selim suspiciously. “Seems to me like you need him around just to eat and sleep every once in a while. Or is that just part of your contract?” He straightened his shoulders a little, tilting his chin up a bit to be at least kind of eye-to-eye with the other boy. “You do him a favour here and there and he sings you a lullaby when you have nightmares?”

He flinched from his own words for a moment, face paling a little as he realised that it wasn’t his place to call Selim out on his obvious sleeping problems. Back at the Hospital Wing it had sounded like a serious issue that nobody should be allowed to throw into the Slytherin’s face like this.

He took a step back again, fingers tapping his thigh in slow-motion.

One...

Two...

Three...

He took a deep breath, shaking his head at himself. Where had all that defensiveness come from? Was it because Selim had suggested he worship Jack? Because he had assumed Ruka wasn’t able to fend for himself?

“I don’t need Jack to survive, I’ve done that all by myself for long enough,” he finally said in a half-answer to Selim’s original question. “Maybe I just keep him around for entertainment, what is it to you, anyway?” An ugly feeling reared inside him again, pushing him to get one more stab at this boy who was showing far too little emotion for a conversation this loaded. “Jealous you have to share his attention with me now?” He let out a hollow laugh as he averted his gaze, looking down at his wand still tightly clutched in his right hand.

His heart was racing in his chest, his breath rattled lightly. For a second he wanted to apologise, but he doubted Selim really cared for an apology.

Hell, Ruka doubted Selim really cared about anything he had just said in the first place, but he felt a twinge of guilt inside him anyway. Jack clearly cared about this boy, one way or another, and for Ruka to try and antagonise him like that was most likely not in the other Slytherin’s interest.

“I can depend on myself to survive,” he said once his breathing had calmed down again. “But I find surviving a whole lot more worthwhile with someone else around to survive for. Don’t you?”

@Ruka Tân

___ ___ ___

He didn't respond to the upperclassmen's comment about the hospital wing. Not about to dig deeper into that putred nest of maggots that was the situation he and the fox had gone through. Besides, there wasn't much to say to such an offhand statement. He didn't much care that the lion was worried about his dormmate.

When he turned around he saw the Gryffindor had taken his wand out. He stared at it silently for a moment, before looking back up at the boy.

During his questions, he watched as the boy got angrier, taking a step towards him as if about to fight him, he didn't react, face blank, still cold, still unfeeling. Upon finishing, the small second-year answered rather heatedly, and Selim noted that he had probably hit a sore spot.

He was learning what made this Lion tick.

The other's questions were, in Selim's opinion, full of pettiness, and reminded him of his dormmate, Averill. Seems this particular Gryffindor was no better at keeping emotions relatively in check then the other ones he'd met.

Not surprising. Lashing out verbally against an underclassmen would probably be considered pathetic, if anyone were watching.

After a small moment of silence, he rebutted the smaller boy's facts with the same cold, apathetic tone. "I can sleep on my own, admittedly not as well as normal 11-year-olds probably should, but still enough to keep me more energized. Currently a recent event has disrupted my normal sleep pattern, and the last time you saw me lacking in sleep was because of personal issues, likewise it was the reason I wasn't eating." He watched the little lion with cold eyes, "I actually have regular eating habits outside of situations where I'm sick, unlike you do currently."He blinked laxly. "I do not need 'lullabies' to sleep, I sleep just fine during the day without any obnoxious tunes niggling at my ears, even if classes are sometimes stupidly loud."

"Your really shouldn't make assumptions of me after only meeting me three times, Little Lion. I suggest you think before you speak."

The boy then stepped back, fingers still tap, tap, tapping, a discordant tune, probably reflecting some feelings left unknown to the boy himself.

The boy then actually, answered his questions.

“I don’t need Jack to survive, I’ve done that all by myself for long enough. Maybe I just keep him around for entertainment, what is it to you, anyway?” The boy's tone was almost as expressionless as his own, as if echoing him, but his next words revealed what the Gryffindor was actually feeling. “Jealous you have to share his attention with me now?”

He seemed to calm, as if about to ask some impactful question, “I can depend on myself to survive, but I find surviving a whole lot more worthwhile with someone else around to survive for. Don’t you?”

Selim blinked. Voice so clear yet quiet, as it always was, he responded with the same emotionless, numb, cold, hollow voice. "If anyone is jealous, it's you Little Lion." He fixed him with his dimmed amber gaze, "Your previous reactions were hinting towards it, and what you just said solidified it."

His eyes became half lidded, "You're envious of our seemingly close relationship. You've become selfish when it comes to him, wanting him all for yourself, all his attention affection- and honestly? I don't care, i'm not fighting for his affection, he's merely a business partner to me, and nothing more." His gaze narrowed slightly, becoming a tad sharper, calculating, lacking of any trace of empathy, "But you have to realize, you've become needy. Your state speaks it loud and clear. Perhaps that locket that I helped him make helps, but obviously, it's not quite enough." Head tilting ever-so-slightly to the side, he went on, stabbing, testing his vague theories, seeing how the Gryffindor will react with clinical observation, "It's never quite enough, is it? You crave it, like a drug, and perhaps there's good reason for it."

"Our pasts shape who we are, and from what I've seen, your's might be similar to my own... but you've coped in a different way then I have." He shook his head softly, "Now you have a gap that can't be filled, perhaps. A void devouring every hint of affection and approval before you can fully appreciate what you had felt." He looked at him, gaze still steady, and unwavering. "The difference between you and I, is that i've decided to accept that feeling. Apathy is better then being hurt by caring. A care destined to be ripped away, violently... at least that's my perspective."

his gaze became dull once more, "So cling to your thirst for affection, if you truly think it'll work out in the end, but don't drag me into your greed with petty words and verbalized delusions."

He turned away from the boy once more, growing bored of the discussion, "As for whether or not I think surviving is more worthwhile to do for someone?" He snorted, though there was no emotion behind it, "I wouldn't know the feeling, but through the life lessons I've learned, such a thing is naive." He cast his chilling gaze back to the lion, "Because once they die, once they leave for one reason or another, you then have nothing to live for. That is why I refuse to survive for someone else other then myself."

"Your own actions have solidified this. Just look at what happened to you when the fox tried to cut himself off from you. You broke, I don't know what you expected, building yourself up on an unsteady foundation." He turned around again, gesturing to the Gryffindor, a dagger now in his hand, which hung lax at his side, ready to strike should the second-year attack.

"Yet here you are doing the same thing, trying to build up off one person, the same person, despite what happened the last time you did."

He walked forwards, knife still at his side, "You seem to think that he'll always come back.... but tell me, what if Jack dies?" He cocked his head, "Death is unexpected, unpredictable, and always a threat no matter how much you forget about it. Disease, War, Famin, Murder, Natural Disaster, and so many other things that can kill an eleven-year-old easily. Magic can't completely prevent this all, it can even be turned against you if in the wrong hands. So tell me, what would you do, if he died?" He spread his arms, "Would you turn to someone else to depend on? Let yourself wither away in grief and shock? Go into a blind rage full of panic and terror? Simply end it all yourself?"

He let his arms drop, looking at the Gryffindor with a glint of something in his slitted yellow eyes. "Tell me, I'm genuinely curious."

He stepped back a bit, as if allowing the Lion time to think, to mull over whatever would be brought up by his insistent questions. He also kept an eye on the wand, wondering if the other child would simply lash out and make him suffer under some kind of spell. He hoped if it came to this that he could react in time, but he had grown sluggish ever since March 1st.

He wanted to know, wanted to find out, exactly how at least semi-normal preteens were supposed to act, how far they could stretch their minds at their young age. He wanted to find out... just how much he had been messed up throughout his nonexistent childhood.

Because unlike the fox seemed to think, everything his own family did seemed almost entirely normal to him. His view only shifted when he came to Hogwarts and saw just how kids his age were supposed to act.

Along with this, Selim just wanted to see what made this upperclassmen think the way he did. His way of testing this being rather brutish, but he didn't much care to put effort into subtle tactics to figure out what made Ruka Tân tick.

He stared at him, gaze empty, flickering lightly with clinical intrigue. Despite his non-threatening posture, blank face, and expressionless words, he knew that humans just tended to attack when forced to become doubtful of their own beliefs.

He watched, mind churning as if awakened by this new challenge.