27 Feb 2020, 16:57
Forbidden Voices
@Lydia Cooper
[font=Segoe Print]Now that he was really giving things a good thought, Raf was really starting to regret signing up for hide and seek.
The young Gryffindor had developed a habit of making impressively stupid decisions during his eleven years of life. It was one of the defining things about him, he supposed, among his brashness, short fuse, and nasty impulses. Whatever was up in the sky that made him, he was sure, had to have been drunk out of their mind when they had created such a mess of attributes. Truly, the boy feared himself sometimes, his own instincts getting the better of him and making trouble among his peers more instances than he could begin to list. He could be dangerous sometimes.
If Raf searched the darkest depths of his brain, he could probably recall a time in ancient history in which he’d adored the art of hiding. Any child like him would have enjoyed such a game – he had been [and still was] a rather terrible child, after all, and terrible children loved terrible things. No, perhaps he shouldn’t say ‘terrible’ – hiding all in itself had never been a ‘terrible’ thing. His motives, on the other hand, had been a completely different story. If he’d ever stolen something, or punched the wrong person, or mouthed off just right, he’d always have his little escape plan up his sleeve. And the boy had long since learned that running got tiresome after a while. Raf wasn’t the kind of kid that ran, anyways. It was simply not worth the effort. No, there were much more effective ways to escape the enemy. He’d know – he’d learned every single one.
However, with growing realization, the boy was beginning to learn that those days had long since passed.
He must have been pretty delusional when signing up for such a game. It was as if, in the moment, he’d actually forgotten the fact that he was a full-grown eleven-year-old boy, too bulky and built to fit in the small places he used to hide. And, he wasn’t just any type of boy – no, he was, indeed, eighty pounds of smoking hot male. It would be practically impossible for anyone to not find him. He’d set himself up for failure. And, to add to his misery, he was beginning to feel like a loser, sitting in a dark room with nothing but a bag of potato chips, a pack of glowsticks, and his own wand, twenty-four centimeters of pristine walnut wood. A ruddy wonderful life it is, he thought wryly. Positively peachy.
But, no, the universe couldn’t even give him one inward remark – Of course he had jinxed himself. A creak sounded outside the door, loud and piercing in the thick, silent air. At the very sound of the noise, the Gryffindor’s muscles tensed, his eyes flying around the room in a quick moment. It only took him a moment to realize that no one had intruded. And a moment more to see that he had dropped his bag of chips, the contents scattering across his lap. Bloody figures.
“Dammit..” he muttered under his breath, pulling out a glowstick and deftly snapping it. Wedging it between his teeth, he allowed the light to paint his clothing for a quick moment, showing him the extent of the damage. It seemed as if his black hoodie had taken quite a hit, every fold and seam carrying a crumb of the greasy food. Taking the beanie off his head, he dabbed his face with an air of aggravation, putting it back on his head and strategizing the best way to remove the crumbs. [It was growing quite hot in the room, the door trapping all the heat in the room. It wouldn’t be long until he would be forced to move.] In one quick motion, an air of aggravation to his actions, he took his sleeve and began wiping the crumbs off his shirt, the crumbs tumbling onto the ground around them. In any other situation, he might have found an ounce of remorse. But not now.
His eyes flitting over to the door, ever ominous. He was sure if he were found in there, it would make for quite an interesting story. [/font]
[font=Segoe Print]Now that he was really giving things a good thought, Raf was really starting to regret signing up for hide and seek.
The young Gryffindor had developed a habit of making impressively stupid decisions during his eleven years of life. It was one of the defining things about him, he supposed, among his brashness, short fuse, and nasty impulses. Whatever was up in the sky that made him, he was sure, had to have been drunk out of their mind when they had created such a mess of attributes. Truly, the boy feared himself sometimes, his own instincts getting the better of him and making trouble among his peers more instances than he could begin to list. He could be dangerous sometimes.
If Raf searched the darkest depths of his brain, he could probably recall a time in ancient history in which he’d adored the art of hiding. Any child like him would have enjoyed such a game – he had been [and still was] a rather terrible child, after all, and terrible children loved terrible things. No, perhaps he shouldn’t say ‘terrible’ – hiding all in itself had never been a ‘terrible’ thing. His motives, on the other hand, had been a completely different story. If he’d ever stolen something, or punched the wrong person, or mouthed off just right, he’d always have his little escape plan up his sleeve. And the boy had long since learned that running got tiresome after a while. Raf wasn’t the kind of kid that ran, anyways. It was simply not worth the effort. No, there were much more effective ways to escape the enemy. He’d know – he’d learned every single one.
However, with growing realization, the boy was beginning to learn that those days had long since passed.
He must have been pretty delusional when signing up for such a game. It was as if, in the moment, he’d actually forgotten the fact that he was a full-grown eleven-year-old boy, too bulky and built to fit in the small places he used to hide. And, he wasn’t just any type of boy – no, he was, indeed, eighty pounds of smoking hot male. It would be practically impossible for anyone to not find him. He’d set himself up for failure. And, to add to his misery, he was beginning to feel like a loser, sitting in a dark room with nothing but a bag of potato chips, a pack of glowsticks, and his own wand, twenty-four centimeters of pristine walnut wood. A ruddy wonderful life it is, he thought wryly. Positively peachy.
But, no, the universe couldn’t even give him one inward remark – Of course he had jinxed himself. A creak sounded outside the door, loud and piercing in the thick, silent air. At the very sound of the noise, the Gryffindor’s muscles tensed, his eyes flying around the room in a quick moment. It only took him a moment to realize that no one had intruded. And a moment more to see that he had dropped his bag of chips, the contents scattering across his lap. Bloody figures.
“Dammit..” he muttered under his breath, pulling out a glowstick and deftly snapping it. Wedging it between his teeth, he allowed the light to paint his clothing for a quick moment, showing him the extent of the damage. It seemed as if his black hoodie had taken quite a hit, every fold and seam carrying a crumb of the greasy food. Taking the beanie off his head, he dabbed his face with an air of aggravation, putting it back on his head and strategizing the best way to remove the crumbs. [It was growing quite hot in the room, the door trapping all the heat in the room. It wouldn’t be long until he would be forced to move.] In one quick motion, an air of aggravation to his actions, he took his sleeve and began wiping the crumbs off his shirt, the crumbs tumbling onto the ground around them. In any other situation, he might have found an ounce of remorse. But not now.
His eyes flitting over to the door, ever ominous. He was sure if he were found in there, it would make for quite an interesting story. [/font]
Kara Capricorn has permission to post in this thread.
Last edited by Rafael Waincroft on 28 Feb 2020, 04:03, edited 1 time in total.
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
27 Feb 2020, 21:15
Forbidden Voices
Since her arrival at Hogwarts, Lydia had been in an almost constant state of awe towards everything. She had also always tried her best to study as much as she could and obtain good grades, so she rarely had moments in which she could just relax.
Back in Brighton, whenever she needed to relax and leave all the stress and worries outside of her world, she would go for a walk along the beach with her beloved iPod and a pair of headphones in her ears.
Since she was little, music had always been with her, no matter what situation she was in. Her parents had always encouraged her passion for it, making sure that she could study the piano and the guitar for as long as she wanted (they did this because they knew that sometimes she would lose interest in things rather quickly). A couple of years earlier she even thought about taking singing lessons, but the she abandoned the idea to instead follow a cooking course, which she ended up doing for a good eight months.
Lately the red headed girl had been craving a good pair of headphones and some music so that she could chill a little bit, since the stress that she was putting over herself was starting to be a little bit overwhelming, but unfortunately no electronic devices worked at Hogwarts.
So when she heard that the school had a rehearsal room, Lydia almost couldn't contain her joy; even without her beloved iPod, she would have finally been able to listen to some music, even if that meant that she would have needed to play it.
That day in particular, she had decided to take some time for herself and relax, instead of passing hours on her books and notes.
It did take her some time to find the rehearsal room, since she had never been to the fourth floor, and she even walked past it a couple of times, before realising that the closed door was indeed the one of the room she was looking for.
Feeling a little bit anxious, Lydia pushed the heavy door and walked inside, the lights slowly turning in as she closed the door behind herself. She was quite happy that she was alone: she hadn't played in so long, and this way she wouldn't have made a fool of herself in front of anyone.
She started walking around the room, trying to take in how amazing it looked: there were so many different instruments, most of which Lydia didn't even know the name of, and the candle light made them look extremely majestic.
Lydia was so absorbed in her own world, that she hadn't noticed that she wasn't alone.
When she finally regained contact with reality, she jumped up in surprise when she saw a boy with a glowstick in his mouth and a graveyard of crisps all around him. She had to admit that the sight was quite funny, and she could help the smile that appeared on her face.
"Ehm... Hi?" she said unsure, her gaze fixed on the boy, "Do you need a hand with those?" she added, pointing to the crisps, the smile still on her lips.
She looked at the boy, waiting for an answer, and she couldn't help but notice the way he looked: he was definitely pretty, his dark hair and brown eyes together with his tan skin made him look way different from all the boys that she was used to back in Brighton, since most of them had either blonde or red hair with light coloured eyes.
@Rafael D'Spacito
Back in Brighton, whenever she needed to relax and leave all the stress and worries outside of her world, she would go for a walk along the beach with her beloved iPod and a pair of headphones in her ears.
Since she was little, music had always been with her, no matter what situation she was in. Her parents had always encouraged her passion for it, making sure that she could study the piano and the guitar for as long as she wanted (they did this because they knew that sometimes she would lose interest in things rather quickly). A couple of years earlier she even thought about taking singing lessons, but the she abandoned the idea to instead follow a cooking course, which she ended up doing for a good eight months.
Lately the red headed girl had been craving a good pair of headphones and some music so that she could chill a little bit, since the stress that she was putting over herself was starting to be a little bit overwhelming, but unfortunately no electronic devices worked at Hogwarts.
So when she heard that the school had a rehearsal room, Lydia almost couldn't contain her joy; even without her beloved iPod, she would have finally been able to listen to some music, even if that meant that she would have needed to play it.
That day in particular, she had decided to take some time for herself and relax, instead of passing hours on her books and notes.
It did take her some time to find the rehearsal room, since she had never been to the fourth floor, and she even walked past it a couple of times, before realising that the closed door was indeed the one of the room she was looking for.
Feeling a little bit anxious, Lydia pushed the heavy door and walked inside, the lights slowly turning in as she closed the door behind herself. She was quite happy that she was alone: she hadn't played in so long, and this way she wouldn't have made a fool of herself in front of anyone.
She started walking around the room, trying to take in how amazing it looked: there were so many different instruments, most of which Lydia didn't even know the name of, and the candle light made them look extremely majestic.
Lydia was so absorbed in her own world, that she hadn't noticed that she wasn't alone.
When she finally regained contact with reality, she jumped up in surprise when she saw a boy with a glowstick in his mouth and a graveyard of crisps all around him. She had to admit that the sight was quite funny, and she could help the smile that appeared on her face.
"Ehm... Hi?" she said unsure, her gaze fixed on the boy, "Do you need a hand with those?" she added, pointing to the crisps, the smile still on her lips.
She looked at the boy, waiting for an answer, and she couldn't help but notice the way he looked: he was definitely pretty, his dark hair and brown eyes together with his tan skin made him look way different from all the boys that she was used to back in Brighton, since most of them had either blonde or red hair with light coloured eyes.
@Rafael D'Spacito
"Everything beautiful is ruined eventually."
|| PART VEELA || ALLURING || LOVELY CREATURE || SCREAM
2 Mar 2020, 15:49
Forbidden Voices
@Lydia Cooper
[font=Segoe Print]"Ehm... Hi?"
The universe was a funny force, Rafael had long since decided, as it always seemed to be working against everything he had ever hoped to maintain. His reputation, his head, his sanity – God forbid the monster in him rear its ugly head, which it certainly had in the last few days. The universe seemed to grate upon his senses in the most frustrating ways possible, leaving him completely and utterly bare in his own emotions. He hated these forces to no bounds, and sometimes even wondered if he were cursed as a child. [He’d entertained himself with the idea, anyways. The more he lived, the more he suspected it to be true.] He suspected there was some ill forces at play, in the least, because the luck that had been coming his way lately had been no less than terrible.
The young Gryffindor had barely had a moment to register the creaking of the door, or the lights flickering on, had only processed the startlingly feminine voice of a girl. It was airy, utterly startling – at the very sound of it, the young Gryffindor jolted, chip crumbs flying everywhere, the glowstick in his mouth immediately dropping to his lap, a small thud sounding at the impact. He inwardly cursed, his heart suddenly racing, his mind growing foggy at the feeling of his sudden fear. His face was growing red, from anger or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell. He’d jinxed himself again. The horror.
"Do you need a hand with those?"
At the sound of the girl’s voice once more, an extended bridge of friendship, the boy snapped, racing to his feet, crumbs gently falling to the floor. “I don’t need your bloody help,” he spat on reflex, his eyes boring venomously into the girl, his teeth gritting against each other in the slightest. [It was an unspoken fact that Rafael, danger-prone Gryffindor and Quidditch Captain, did fear a small few things. On the top of the minuscule list, were jump scares. It wasn’t a fear he was proud of. In fact, he was rather embarrassed of it, as it had become a fear that his enemies tended to use against him more often than not.] It certainly didn’t help his anger, now that he found himself stuck with a girl – a pretty one, goddammit – in the one, the only room at Hogwarts he wouldn’t be caught dead in. Yes, he was definitely cursed. There was no doubt about it now.
Though, as he considered the situation for a moment, he began to regret his actions. She was only being a kind soul – who was he to snap at her in such a way? He felt a bout of remorse cross his face, at that – his lips tucked between his teeth, his light-brown eyes considering his feet for a moment. He should have considered all the factors, instead of diving head-first into his defensive maneuvers.
“I’m, uh, sorry,” he deftly apologized. “I didn’t mean that – you startled me, is all.” He crossed his arms, his foot tapping absently, his face utterly black. “I think I got it, thanks.” Now that he was standing, he took a moment to brush the crumbs off of himself – now he looked half-decent, for a Argentine dressed in criminal outerwear.
“Erm,” he stated, “What brings you here? Practicing, are you?” He let out a rather awkward smile, trying to deflect the attention off of himself. “You play?” [/font]
[font=Segoe Print]"Ehm... Hi?"
The universe was a funny force, Rafael had long since decided, as it always seemed to be working against everything he had ever hoped to maintain. His reputation, his head, his sanity – God forbid the monster in him rear its ugly head, which it certainly had in the last few days. The universe seemed to grate upon his senses in the most frustrating ways possible, leaving him completely and utterly bare in his own emotions. He hated these forces to no bounds, and sometimes even wondered if he were cursed as a child. [He’d entertained himself with the idea, anyways. The more he lived, the more he suspected it to be true.] He suspected there was some ill forces at play, in the least, because the luck that had been coming his way lately had been no less than terrible.
The young Gryffindor had barely had a moment to register the creaking of the door, or the lights flickering on, had only processed the startlingly feminine voice of a girl. It was airy, utterly startling – at the very sound of it, the young Gryffindor jolted, chip crumbs flying everywhere, the glowstick in his mouth immediately dropping to his lap, a small thud sounding at the impact. He inwardly cursed, his heart suddenly racing, his mind growing foggy at the feeling of his sudden fear. His face was growing red, from anger or embarrassment, he couldn’t tell. He’d jinxed himself again. The horror.
"Do you need a hand with those?"
At the sound of the girl’s voice once more, an extended bridge of friendship, the boy snapped, racing to his feet, crumbs gently falling to the floor. “I don’t need your bloody help,” he spat on reflex, his eyes boring venomously into the girl, his teeth gritting against each other in the slightest. [It was an unspoken fact that Rafael, danger-prone Gryffindor and Quidditch Captain, did fear a small few things. On the top of the minuscule list, were jump scares. It wasn’t a fear he was proud of. In fact, he was rather embarrassed of it, as it had become a fear that his enemies tended to use against him more often than not.] It certainly didn’t help his anger, now that he found himself stuck with a girl – a pretty one, goddammit – in the one, the only room at Hogwarts he wouldn’t be caught dead in. Yes, he was definitely cursed. There was no doubt about it now.
Though, as he considered the situation for a moment, he began to regret his actions. She was only being a kind soul – who was he to snap at her in such a way? He felt a bout of remorse cross his face, at that – his lips tucked between his teeth, his light-brown eyes considering his feet for a moment. He should have considered all the factors, instead of diving head-first into his defensive maneuvers.
“I’m, uh, sorry,” he deftly apologized. “I didn’t mean that – you startled me, is all.” He crossed his arms, his foot tapping absently, his face utterly black. “I think I got it, thanks.” Now that he was standing, he took a moment to brush the crumbs off of himself – now he looked half-decent, for a Argentine dressed in criminal outerwear.
“Erm,” he stated, “What brings you here? Practicing, are you?” He let out a rather awkward smile, trying to deflect the attention off of himself. “You play?” [/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
3 Mar 2020, 21:16
Forbidden Voices
Lydia’s smile fell off her face the moment that she realised that she had scared the boy, and instead a worried expression took over.
She never liked to intrude on people, let alone scare them, so of course the situation at the moment wasn’t ideal for her.
When the boy quickly stood up and looked at her as if he properly hated her, Lydia took a small step back.
She wasn’t scared, not completely, but she definitely didn’t want to be too close to a clearly upset - and scared - boy, especially since he was at least twenty centimetres taller than her.
She didn’t know him, and she assumed that he wasn’t dangerous, but it was still better to be careful.
“I don’t need your bloody help,”
The boy was clearly angry with her, even though she had no idea why. Was it because she had scared him? Or maybe because she had found him in such a silly position? She didn’t know, but what she did know was that she didn’t like when people were rude to her.
With her eyebrows raised, Lydia crossed her arms over her white jumper and stared at him.
“ I was just trying to be friendly, you know?” She said, sounding defensive. Her eyes were fixed on the boy’s ones, not afraid to show that she would have not run away.
As she kept staring at him, Lydia noticed his facial expression change and turn softer, and she subconsciously relaxed and uncrossed her arms.
His next words only confirmed that Lydia had indeed scared him, and the girl felt immediately sorry.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought I was alone,” she said, an apologetic smile spread across her lips.
Now that the boy was properly standing and Lydia could look better at him, she knew she had definitely already seen him around the school.
Lydia listened to his words and nodded, before she started walking toward the piano, her pink skirt flowing gently back and forth as she moved.
Her fingers absently brushed over the instrument, before she spoke again.
“I do yeah, but I’m not that good. I just really like the sound of the notes, it’s like they can make all the stress and anxiety disappear for a little bit,” she said as she smiled, “ Back at home I usually put some music on when I feel overwhelmed, but here... it’s like there’s not enough music,”
Lydia really hoped that the boy didn’t think of her as ungrateful; with all the incredible things the school had to offer, she still found a reason to complain.
“What about you?” she asked, her curiosity taking control, “Do you play? Or maybe sing?”
Lydia thought that from the outside, the boy didn’t look too much like someone that enjoyed music, but something inside of her told her that this was not the case.
“I’m Lydia, by the way!” she said cheerfully, before extending her hand to him.
She really hoped that they could still get along, and maybe even become friends.
@Rafael D'Spacito
She never liked to intrude on people, let alone scare them, so of course the situation at the moment wasn’t ideal for her.
When the boy quickly stood up and looked at her as if he properly hated her, Lydia took a small step back.
She wasn’t scared, not completely, but she definitely didn’t want to be too close to a clearly upset - and scared - boy, especially since he was at least twenty centimetres taller than her.
She didn’t know him, and she assumed that he wasn’t dangerous, but it was still better to be careful.
“I don’t need your bloody help,”
The boy was clearly angry with her, even though she had no idea why. Was it because she had scared him? Or maybe because she had found him in such a silly position? She didn’t know, but what she did know was that she didn’t like when people were rude to her.
With her eyebrows raised, Lydia crossed her arms over her white jumper and stared at him.
“ I was just trying to be friendly, you know?” She said, sounding defensive. Her eyes were fixed on the boy’s ones, not afraid to show that she would have not run away.
As she kept staring at him, Lydia noticed his facial expression change and turn softer, and she subconsciously relaxed and uncrossed her arms.
His next words only confirmed that Lydia had indeed scared him, and the girl felt immediately sorry.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to startle you. I thought I was alone,” she said, an apologetic smile spread across her lips.
Now that the boy was properly standing and Lydia could look better at him, she knew she had definitely already seen him around the school.
Lydia listened to his words and nodded, before she started walking toward the piano, her pink skirt flowing gently back and forth as she moved.
Her fingers absently brushed over the instrument, before she spoke again.
“I do yeah, but I’m not that good. I just really like the sound of the notes, it’s like they can make all the stress and anxiety disappear for a little bit,” she said as she smiled, “ Back at home I usually put some music on when I feel overwhelmed, but here... it’s like there’s not enough music,”
Lydia really hoped that the boy didn’t think of her as ungrateful; with all the incredible things the school had to offer, she still found a reason to complain.
“What about you?” she asked, her curiosity taking control, “Do you play? Or maybe sing?”
Lydia thought that from the outside, the boy didn’t look too much like someone that enjoyed music, but something inside of her told her that this was not the case.
“I’m Lydia, by the way!” she said cheerfully, before extending her hand to him.
She really hoped that they could still get along, and maybe even become friends.
@Rafael D'Spacito
"Everything beautiful is ruined eventually."
|| PART VEELA || ALLURING || LOVELY CREATURE || SCREAM
6 Mar 2020, 17:30
Forbidden Voices
@Lydia Cooper
[font=Segoe Print]“I was just trying to be friendly, you know?”
Well, if that didn’t put a pit in the boy’s already uneasy stomach, he didn’t know what would. Of course, she was just trying to be friendly, you bloody bastard. His conscience had decidedly not taken the day off, as it usually did – and as hilariously ironic as that was, he was beginning to pay for it, as his chest was beginning to hurt, making him feel positively sick. However, he’d already shared his apologies – the boy would just have to get over his confusing feelings. “It’s… fine,” he told her instead. “It’s really not your fault – should have been a bit more careful about my words.”
[He had been a bit irritable lately, he absently noticed – and, while he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the source of his aggravation, he’d had his suspicions. It had been quite a while since he’d seen his little Ravenclaw, and it was starting to get to his head. He’d been trying to write it all off as his imagination playing tricks on him – but, he knew better. He didn’t have an imagination. Gem Stuart was avoiding him.]
[Any longer, and he’d surely burn down the school.]
It seemed as if the mysterious girl had quite a bit to say about the whimsical instrument in question. Rafael found that his attention had been raptly taken by her words, his look of guilt soon turning to a look of intrigue. She spoke of things he’d never heard a fellow student say – things about music he’d only ever heard in his own head. The relatability of it all was comforting, albeit a right shock, and he found that he was beginning to like the girl more and more.
It took him a moment to answer her question – he really didn’t like sharing his secret. But, deep down, he felt as if he owed it to the girl. After all, he’d been the one to snap at her. The least he could do was answer her damn question. “Not that it’s an advertised fact,” he started pointedly, “yes, I do. Sing and play, I mean. Though, I don’t get to do it a lot these days. There certainly isn’t enough music – makes me wonder whether or not the no-electronics rule is actually beneficial.” His fingers traced the expanses of the instrument – when had he gotten close? – his eyes sparkling with something like admiration. “I suppose, in a way, music gives me a sort of peace,” he added, a tentativeness to his voice. “Can’t really explain why – it’s more of a feeling you get, right? Almost nostalgic, but… not in a sad way. Does that make sense?” He kind of grinned at the notion, his eyes flitting back to the other girl in a moment.
“I’m Lydia, by the way!”
Lydia – a fitting name, it seemed, beautiful and captivating. Charming, just like the girl in front of him. “Well, it’s lovely to meet your acquaintance,” the boy said, a smile tugging at the end of his lips. “I’m Rafael, Gryffindor. My mates call me ‘Bird, though.” He held his hand out cordially, a bright look upon his face. [/font]
[font=Segoe Print]“I was just trying to be friendly, you know?”
Well, if that didn’t put a pit in the boy’s already uneasy stomach, he didn’t know what would. Of course, she was just trying to be friendly, you bloody bastard. His conscience had decidedly not taken the day off, as it usually did – and as hilariously ironic as that was, he was beginning to pay for it, as his chest was beginning to hurt, making him feel positively sick. However, he’d already shared his apologies – the boy would just have to get over his confusing feelings. “It’s… fine,” he told her instead. “It’s really not your fault – should have been a bit more careful about my words.”
[He had been a bit irritable lately, he absently noticed – and, while he couldn’t exactly pinpoint the source of his aggravation, he’d had his suspicions. It had been quite a while since he’d seen his little Ravenclaw, and it was starting to get to his head. He’d been trying to write it all off as his imagination playing tricks on him – but, he knew better. He didn’t have an imagination. Gem Stuart was avoiding him.]
[Any longer, and he’d surely burn down the school.]
It seemed as if the mysterious girl had quite a bit to say about the whimsical instrument in question. Rafael found that his attention had been raptly taken by her words, his look of guilt soon turning to a look of intrigue. She spoke of things he’d never heard a fellow student say – things about music he’d only ever heard in his own head. The relatability of it all was comforting, albeit a right shock, and he found that he was beginning to like the girl more and more.
It took him a moment to answer her question – he really didn’t like sharing his secret. But, deep down, he felt as if he owed it to the girl. After all, he’d been the one to snap at her. The least he could do was answer her damn question. “Not that it’s an advertised fact,” he started pointedly, “yes, I do. Sing and play, I mean. Though, I don’t get to do it a lot these days. There certainly isn’t enough music – makes me wonder whether or not the no-electronics rule is actually beneficial.” His fingers traced the expanses of the instrument – when had he gotten close? – his eyes sparkling with something like admiration. “I suppose, in a way, music gives me a sort of peace,” he added, a tentativeness to his voice. “Can’t really explain why – it’s more of a feeling you get, right? Almost nostalgic, but… not in a sad way. Does that make sense?” He kind of grinned at the notion, his eyes flitting back to the other girl in a moment.
“I’m Lydia, by the way!”
Lydia – a fitting name, it seemed, beautiful and captivating. Charming, just like the girl in front of him. “Well, it’s lovely to meet your acquaintance,” the boy said, a smile tugging at the end of his lips. “I’m Rafael, Gryffindor. My mates call me ‘Bird, though.” He held his hand out cordially, a bright look upon his face. [/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
6 Mar 2020, 22:10
Forbidden Voices
@Rafael D'Spacito
Lydia’s smile grew even brighter when they boy agreed with her and then admitted that he did sing and play. She felt like nobody else could understand completely why she missed music, or why she enjoyed so much to just disconnect from the rest of the world sometimes. But there it was this boy, that simply understood all of that.
As Lydia sat down on the stool in front of the piano, she could feel that the boy had moved closer and was now standing next to the instrument as well. She could also feel him almost staring at her, his eyes looking shortly at the piano before they moved back to her, as he spoke.
“Absolutely! It’s a sense of feeling complete and at peace with the world, as if nothing else matters anymore; but it happens so fast that the moment the music is gone, and everything comes back rushing in, you just want to go back and get lost in the notes once more,” Lydia admitted with a soft voice, almost as if she was half there and half lost in her head, her fingers itching to play something on the piano. She came back to reality and then shook her head, looking up at the boy. She smiled at him and then shook his hand, hers looking rather small compared to his.
“It’s lovely to meet you too Rafael,” she said and she could feel her cheeks getting red from embarrassment. She wasn’t that much used to talking with boys, especially if they looked like Rafael, and attention in general always made her blush quite quickly. “Hufflepuff here; why do they call you Bird, if I can ask you of course?”
Rafael was the first student that she properly had a conversation with that wasn’t a Hufflepuff - well, if you didn’t count Freya of course - and it was nice to finally know someone from another house. Gryffindor students usually intimidated her; they all looked so determined and bold, and even though most of the other students loved being around Gryffindors , Lydia mostly stayed on the sidelines observing.
“Do you mind...?” she suddenly asked Rafael as she gestured towards the piano, “I already apologise for how it will sound, I haven’t played in ages,” she added and then played a couple of chords on the piano, trying to remember how the song was. She wanted to play “Clocks” by Coldplay, but it was easier said than done.
It was one of the first songs she had ever studied, not too complicated to do, especially in the simplified version she had learned, but it was still nice.
After a couple of chords she finally remembered mostly how the song was supposed to be, and she added her right hand to play the melody. As Lydia kept playing, she started humming along, too scared to properly sing. She really hoped that Rafael wouldn’t have judged her - or her taste in music- too much.
Lydia’s smile grew even brighter when they boy agreed with her and then admitted that he did sing and play. She felt like nobody else could understand completely why she missed music, or why she enjoyed so much to just disconnect from the rest of the world sometimes. But there it was this boy, that simply understood all of that.
As Lydia sat down on the stool in front of the piano, she could feel that the boy had moved closer and was now standing next to the instrument as well. She could also feel him almost staring at her, his eyes looking shortly at the piano before they moved back to her, as he spoke.
“Absolutely! It’s a sense of feeling complete and at peace with the world, as if nothing else matters anymore; but it happens so fast that the moment the music is gone, and everything comes back rushing in, you just want to go back and get lost in the notes once more,” Lydia admitted with a soft voice, almost as if she was half there and half lost in her head, her fingers itching to play something on the piano. She came back to reality and then shook her head, looking up at the boy. She smiled at him and then shook his hand, hers looking rather small compared to his.
“It’s lovely to meet you too Rafael,” she said and she could feel her cheeks getting red from embarrassment. She wasn’t that much used to talking with boys, especially if they looked like Rafael, and attention in general always made her blush quite quickly. “Hufflepuff here; why do they call you Bird, if I can ask you of course?”
Rafael was the first student that she properly had a conversation with that wasn’t a Hufflepuff - well, if you didn’t count Freya of course - and it was nice to finally know someone from another house. Gryffindor students usually intimidated her; they all looked so determined and bold, and even though most of the other students loved being around Gryffindors , Lydia mostly stayed on the sidelines observing.
“Do you mind...?” she suddenly asked Rafael as she gestured towards the piano, “I already apologise for how it will sound, I haven’t played in ages,” she added and then played a couple of chords on the piano, trying to remember how the song was. She wanted to play “Clocks” by Coldplay, but it was easier said than done.
It was one of the first songs she had ever studied, not too complicated to do, especially in the simplified version she had learned, but it was still nice.
After a couple of chords she finally remembered mostly how the song was supposed to be, and she added her right hand to play the melody. As Lydia kept playing, she started humming along, too scared to properly sing. She really hoped that Rafael wouldn’t have judged her - or her taste in music- too much.
"Everything beautiful is ruined eventually."
|| PART VEELA || ALLURING || LOVELY CREATURE || SCREAM
10 Mar 2020, 15:59
Forbidden Voices
@Lydia Cooper
[font=Segoe Print]“It’s a sense of feeling complete and at peace with the world, as if nothing else matters anymore…”
Lydia’s words were gentle, soft, tender, yet somehow, there was something strangely powerful about them, more profound in meaning than any order or yell could ever hope to be. It was amazing, how words worked like that. In addition, there was a sense of comfort that came with her confession, an air of gentle ease that settled over the being of the young boy. “If only there were more music,” he exhaled, his words breezy and pondering. “I’d think the word would be a better place. Void of stress, anxiety, pain. Music fixes everything – in the least, for the people who truly understand it.” And, it was true. He couldn’t recall a single moment in which music hadn’t cured his ill moods, nor given him inspiration to overcome his problems. It was a force of nature, a powerful being created by the universe to give its inhabitants short, sweet relief. A welcome gift, one the young boy would do well to cultivate within him, even if his gift were to only be his own, guarded secret.
“Hufflepuff, eh?” he asked, a smile slipping onto his features at the notion. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You certainly act like a Hufflepuff – and, mind you, that’s in no way an insult.” She certainy was a kindly girl, after all, her benevolent nature glowing through her words and vibrant personality. There was a sort of positive energy that radiated off of her, one that the boy couldn’t exactly place. Her company was of the lively sort, one that the young boy rather enjoyed. Definitely of the Hufflepuff nature.
“Why do they call you ‘Bird, if I can ask you, of course?”
At the very sound of the question, the boy’s eyes widened in the slightest, her words taking him off-guard. It wasn’t often people asked him about his strange monicker – a welcome surprise, though, even if the story wasn’t the most pleasant. “That’s… a long story,” he started, a bright smile slipping onto his features. “But, the shortest version – I was studying with one of my ‘mates.” The emphasis on ‘mates’ was very loose, almost sarcastic, though the tone wasn’t one of hatred. “A Slytherin tripped me. The fall wasn’t so graceful. She thought I looked like a bird, flailing about for balance.” He winced in memory, his smile coming across pained in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. His look of humor quickly returned, however, as he continued his story. “It’s short for Thunderbird, now. Supposedly an allurement to how the air whistles when I fly on my broom. And… a prod towards my temper.” He rubbed his neck, an awkward smile slipping onto his face. “As you’ve observed the likes of firsthand.”
It was about then that the girl in front of him spoke up once more. “Do you mind...?” She gestured towards the piano, an implication towards her wanting to play.
At the very notion, his eyes quickly turned towards the piano, his eyes widening in the slightest. “Oh!” he muttered quickly, drawing his hand off the piano as if it were on fire. “No, not at all. Help yourself.” He stepped back a few more steps, securing his beanie on his head better. His interest was piquing, his brow raising expectantly as his lip tucked itself between his teeth. He had no doubt in her skills, but he was starting to wonder how far they extended. Was she a beginner? Was she a prodigy?
It seemed as if she were trying to make sense of the beginning – a rocky start, surely, but she certainly made up for it with the end product. It was a familiar song, one he’d surely heard before, but never learned the name to. Coldplay, maybe? His foot was tapping with the beat of the melody, his ears greedily taking in every note the Hufflepuff girl played. She was a rather brilliant player, he was coming to recognize. Surely she hadn’t just begun her training. [Note: How long had she played? How committed was she?]
“You going to sing, mate?” he yelled over the growing notes. “Show that voice of yours?” [/font]
[font=Segoe Print]“It’s a sense of feeling complete and at peace with the world, as if nothing else matters anymore…”
Lydia’s words were gentle, soft, tender, yet somehow, there was something strangely powerful about them, more profound in meaning than any order or yell could ever hope to be. It was amazing, how words worked like that. In addition, there was a sense of comfort that came with her confession, an air of gentle ease that settled over the being of the young boy. “If only there were more music,” he exhaled, his words breezy and pondering. “I’d think the word would be a better place. Void of stress, anxiety, pain. Music fixes everything – in the least, for the people who truly understand it.” And, it was true. He couldn’t recall a single moment in which music hadn’t cured his ill moods, nor given him inspiration to overcome his problems. It was a force of nature, a powerful being created by the universe to give its inhabitants short, sweet relief. A welcome gift, one the young boy would do well to cultivate within him, even if his gift were to only be his own, guarded secret.
“Hufflepuff, eh?” he asked, a smile slipping onto his features at the notion. “Well, I can’t say I’m surprised. You certainly act like a Hufflepuff – and, mind you, that’s in no way an insult.” She certainy was a kindly girl, after all, her benevolent nature glowing through her words and vibrant personality. There was a sort of positive energy that radiated off of her, one that the boy couldn’t exactly place. Her company was of the lively sort, one that the young boy rather enjoyed. Definitely of the Hufflepuff nature.
“Why do they call you ‘Bird, if I can ask you, of course?”
At the very sound of the question, the boy’s eyes widened in the slightest, her words taking him off-guard. It wasn’t often people asked him about his strange monicker – a welcome surprise, though, even if the story wasn’t the most pleasant. “That’s… a long story,” he started, a bright smile slipping onto his features. “But, the shortest version – I was studying with one of my ‘mates.” The emphasis on ‘mates’ was very loose, almost sarcastic, though the tone wasn’t one of hatred. “A Slytherin tripped me. The fall wasn’t so graceful. She thought I looked like a bird, flailing about for balance.” He winced in memory, his smile coming across pained in a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it moment. His look of humor quickly returned, however, as he continued his story. “It’s short for Thunderbird, now. Supposedly an allurement to how the air whistles when I fly on my broom. And… a prod towards my temper.” He rubbed his neck, an awkward smile slipping onto his face. “As you’ve observed the likes of firsthand.”
It was about then that the girl in front of him spoke up once more. “Do you mind...?” She gestured towards the piano, an implication towards her wanting to play.
At the very notion, his eyes quickly turned towards the piano, his eyes widening in the slightest. “Oh!” he muttered quickly, drawing his hand off the piano as if it were on fire. “No, not at all. Help yourself.” He stepped back a few more steps, securing his beanie on his head better. His interest was piquing, his brow raising expectantly as his lip tucked itself between his teeth. He had no doubt in her skills, but he was starting to wonder how far they extended. Was she a beginner? Was she a prodigy?
It seemed as if she were trying to make sense of the beginning – a rocky start, surely, but she certainly made up for it with the end product. It was a familiar song, one he’d surely heard before, but never learned the name to. Coldplay, maybe? His foot was tapping with the beat of the melody, his ears greedily taking in every note the Hufflepuff girl played. She was a rather brilliant player, he was coming to recognize. Surely she hadn’t just begun her training. [Note: How long had she played? How committed was she?]
“You going to sing, mate?” he yelled over the growing notes. “Show that voice of yours?” [/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
10 Mar 2020, 21:02
Forbidden Voices
@Rafael D'Spacito
Lydia still couldn’t believe how easily Rafael just understood her point of view about music, and the way he talked about it showed how much it clearly meant to him. She wondered what was his story, where he came from, and why, of all the words he couldn’t have chosen, he chose anxiety, pain and stress. As Lydia looked at him, she tried to understand him more, to try and solve the puzzle of the boy in front of her.
“Hufflepuff, eh?”
Lydia was so ready to hear him mock her for her house, like some other students had done in the past couple of months, but he didn’t; he actually meant it in a good way. She couldn’t help the big smile that appeared on her face, feeling relieved. Even though Rafael didn’t do the best first impression, with him snapping and all, he certainly had redeemed himself and Lydia found herself enjoying talking to him: it was different from when she talked with her friend Aaron -not that she didn’t like taking with him of course, she loved spending time with him- , it was more mature, deeper; she really liked having someone that just understood what she meant without having to explain it.
As Rafael told her the story of his nickname, Lydia listened carefully and gasped when he said that a fellow student had tripped him, but then giggled; she couldn’t help it, it was kind of funny.
“You play quidditch?” Lydia asked him, curious. She really hoped he wasn’t thinking that she was some kind of stalker or something like that, she was just genuinely curious. In the past her grandma had told her more than once that she should tone that down, that “asking too many questions wasn’t good for someone like her”, but she never fully understood why. “I’m terrible at flying! If in the other classes I’m doing well, flying is definitely my worst,” she admitted as she shook her head, “and don’t worry about before! You should see me with my sister! I have a lot of patience, but that little monster sometimes just makes me snap so bad!” Lydia added, her lips turning into a sad smile and she thought about her little sister. Soon it would have been her birthday and she was away from home, unable to celebrate it together.
As Lydia kept playing, the notes just coming back to her memory, she thought about Rafael’s invitation. She had never properly sang in front front anybody, but somehow she knew that even if she sucked, Rafael wouldn’t have made a big deal out of it. She could feel her heart beating fast, some anxiety coming up to the surface, her hands getting a little sweaty.
But she ignored it.
Lydia took a deep breath and then started singing. She didn’t know if she was good or bad, she simply concentrated on the words and the music, trying to push her worries and anxiety away.
Her mother and grandmother were extremely good at singing; at every family reunion the older woman would sing songs with one of her daughters, entertaining everyone, as the little kids would sit on the sofa and eat cookies.
Lydia really hoped she had taken that from them.
As the song came closer to the end, Lydia found herself completely immersed in the notes; everything around her was gone, all her stress, worries and anxiety just vanished into thin air. She almost didn’t want to finish playing, wanting to hold onto that calm for a little longer.
But unfortunately the notes got a little slower, softer, and soon the song was over, the Rehearsal Room silent again.
Lydia still couldn’t believe how easily Rafael just understood her point of view about music, and the way he talked about it showed how much it clearly meant to him. She wondered what was his story, where he came from, and why, of all the words he couldn’t have chosen, he chose anxiety, pain and stress. As Lydia looked at him, she tried to understand him more, to try and solve the puzzle of the boy in front of her.
“Hufflepuff, eh?”
Lydia was so ready to hear him mock her for her house, like some other students had done in the past couple of months, but he didn’t; he actually meant it in a good way. She couldn’t help the big smile that appeared on her face, feeling relieved. Even though Rafael didn’t do the best first impression, with him snapping and all, he certainly had redeemed himself and Lydia found herself enjoying talking to him: it was different from when she talked with her friend Aaron -not that she didn’t like taking with him of course, she loved spending time with him- , it was more mature, deeper; she really liked having someone that just understood what she meant without having to explain it.
As Rafael told her the story of his nickname, Lydia listened carefully and gasped when he said that a fellow student had tripped him, but then giggled; she couldn’t help it, it was kind of funny.
“You play quidditch?” Lydia asked him, curious. She really hoped he wasn’t thinking that she was some kind of stalker or something like that, she was just genuinely curious. In the past her grandma had told her more than once that she should tone that down, that “asking too many questions wasn’t good for someone like her”, but she never fully understood why. “I’m terrible at flying! If in the other classes I’m doing well, flying is definitely my worst,” she admitted as she shook her head, “and don’t worry about before! You should see me with my sister! I have a lot of patience, but that little monster sometimes just makes me snap so bad!” Lydia added, her lips turning into a sad smile and she thought about her little sister. Soon it would have been her birthday and she was away from home, unable to celebrate it together.
As Lydia kept playing, the notes just coming back to her memory, she thought about Rafael’s invitation. She had never properly sang in front front anybody, but somehow she knew that even if she sucked, Rafael wouldn’t have made a big deal out of it. She could feel her heart beating fast, some anxiety coming up to the surface, her hands getting a little sweaty.
But she ignored it.
Lydia took a deep breath and then started singing. She didn’t know if she was good or bad, she simply concentrated on the words and the music, trying to push her worries and anxiety away.
Her mother and grandmother were extremely good at singing; at every family reunion the older woman would sing songs with one of her daughters, entertaining everyone, as the little kids would sit on the sofa and eat cookies.
Lydia really hoped she had taken that from them.
As the song came closer to the end, Lydia found herself completely immersed in the notes; everything around her was gone, all her stress, worries and anxiety just vanished into thin air. She almost didn’t want to finish playing, wanting to hold onto that calm for a little longer.
But unfortunately the notes got a little slower, softer, and soon the song was over, the Rehearsal Room silent again.
"Everything beautiful is ruined eventually."
|| PART VEELA || ALLURING || LOVELY CREATURE || SCREAM
23 Mar 2020, 15:58
Forbidden Voices
@Lydia Cooper
[font=Segoe Print]“You play Quidditch?”
Well, that was quite an ironic question. Did he play Quidditch? It was practically his livelihood at Hogwarts, as he thought about Quidditch almost every waking moment of his day, the sport invading his train of thought like a parasite and capturing his attention in almost every class. The game took up his free time, as he was almost always on the field, practicing his tosses and sharpening his reflexes – if he weren’t on the pitch, then he was in the locker rooms, cooking up winning strategies for his team. Anyone who’d seen him in the hall, or merely knew of his name, could immediately relate him to the game. And , if not for those things, he played quite aggressively during a game setting. The indication made his smile, albeit wryly, as he considered the right approach to her question. “Yeah,” he answered, the very memories of such a game dancing in his vision, taking his attention for a short moment. “Captain, actually, of the Lion House.”
With those words, came the bitter reminder of their current standing in the Hogwarts Quidditch Roster. Dead last, with no wins and only thirty points to represent their resilient team. Not at all his fault, as he had joined later in the season. “Newly dubbed, mind you,” he muttered, a wince on his features at the very idea of such a humiliating fact. “We haven’t been playing all that well throughout the season, but… I intend to change that. Hufflepuff won’t know what hit him.” He grinned at that, if not weakly, a prod towards Quidditch Mastermind Saskia Nicholson. A rival, and a brilliant one at that. “Bet you’re real proud, you are,”b he added, an indication to badge – at least the idea of it, as she wasn’t currently donning her robes. “The Hufflepuff Quidditch Team has been playing strongly all season. Not a single loss thus far.”
With those words, he listened to her continue on, words of ruddy flying skills fluttering to his ears in an instant. Well, that couldn’t be right – that would certainly have to be fixed, then. An idea came to the boy’s mind right then, hitting him harder than a pile of bricks. He kept it to himself, however, instead allowing the girl to continue on. Her next words were much like the first – but, instead of bringing the boy surprise, they instead carried humor. “You, snapping?”he asked curiously, a smile playing on his features. “But… you’re so nice. I can hardly believe such a thing.”
He chewed his lip for a moment more, considering whether he would offer his assistance or not. “As for flying –“ he started slowly, “if you’d ever want any private instruction, you could always come to me." He rubbed his neck awkwardly, his hair falling over his face as he bowed his head, his smile still evident. “It would be a welcome excuse to see you again,” he added, a small mumble. Was he flirting? Perhaps such words could be interpreted that way, but no… surely not, he convinced himself. He had a boyfriend, on he cared for greatly. Such actions towards another person could not be tolerated.
[He’d been a mess of hormones lately.]
The notes of the piano berated his head in the most soothing way, a wave of peace falling over the boy’s countenance as Lydia played on, a perfect harmony of all the right notes hitting at once. And then, per his request, she’d sung – her voice was that of a siren’s, silky, full, pristine and absolutely stunning – he closed his eyes, his brow furrowing contritely as he bit his lips, trying to keep his train of thought intact. It was a different sort of noise, not that of a human’s…. a part-veela, maybe? After all, he had come into contact with the sort before – the breed seemed to take over the mind, ridding any male of their common sense. The first time he’d come in contact with one – his [maybe?] boyfriend’s ex – he’d been utterly unprepared for her cool tones, and striking beauty. However, he was ready now, clearing his head of all attraction and focusing on the first thing he could think of. The face of a Slytherin boy, one he’d met in the owlery a while ago. Flash. Keep it out, keep the voice out…
It took a moment for the boy to realize the song was over – opening his eyes, he took a shaking breath, dismissing the fog from his head. His head was still dizzy, buzzing with the remnants of her perfect voice, his eyes carrying a rattled expression as he carded a hand through his hair, blinking a few times in order to wake his weary senses. “That was…” he searched for words. “Stunning, to say the least.” And to put it politely, at that. Her vocals were mesmerizing, enough so that he’d surely do something idiotic if he’d ever heard them again. Perhaps he should have feared her voice, in that moment… however, he couldn’t say he was scared, not in the least. Her voice was a challenge, one he’d be welcome to discover further. He’d just need to be… better prepared.
Quickly changing the subject, he turned to the piano once more. “You’re a ruddy good player, if I’d ever heard one," he added, his voice dripping with sincerity. “Your playing shows dedication – I can respect that.” He sent a gentle smile her way, one shining with cordiality, matched with a bright look in his eyes. “Though, if you wouldn’t mind too much…” He glanced at the piano, his eyes slightly longing. He wasn’t sure why he was offering such things to a girl he hardly knew. Perhaps it was the supposed ‘veela’ heratige. Or, maybe it was that the girl had put her own voice on the line. Part of him felt as if he owed it to the girl, having snapped at her so harshly when she’d first come in. He felt stupid, the words on the tip of his tongue, a bitter, sappy taste to them, the same taste of reluctance he’d always had before uttering a word of truth.
“Could I play for you?” [/font]
[font=Segoe Print]“You play Quidditch?”
Well, that was quite an ironic question. Did he play Quidditch? It was practically his livelihood at Hogwarts, as he thought about Quidditch almost every waking moment of his day, the sport invading his train of thought like a parasite and capturing his attention in almost every class. The game took up his free time, as he was almost always on the field, practicing his tosses and sharpening his reflexes – if he weren’t on the pitch, then he was in the locker rooms, cooking up winning strategies for his team. Anyone who’d seen him in the hall, or merely knew of his name, could immediately relate him to the game. And , if not for those things, he played quite aggressively during a game setting. The indication made his smile, albeit wryly, as he considered the right approach to her question. “Yeah,” he answered, the very memories of such a game dancing in his vision, taking his attention for a short moment. “Captain, actually, of the Lion House.”
With those words, came the bitter reminder of their current standing in the Hogwarts Quidditch Roster. Dead last, with no wins and only thirty points to represent their resilient team. Not at all his fault, as he had joined later in the season. “Newly dubbed, mind you,” he muttered, a wince on his features at the very idea of such a humiliating fact. “We haven’t been playing all that well throughout the season, but… I intend to change that. Hufflepuff won’t know what hit him.” He grinned at that, if not weakly, a prod towards Quidditch Mastermind Saskia Nicholson. A rival, and a brilliant one at that. “Bet you’re real proud, you are,”b he added, an indication to badge – at least the idea of it, as she wasn’t currently donning her robes. “The Hufflepuff Quidditch Team has been playing strongly all season. Not a single loss thus far.”
With those words, he listened to her continue on, words of ruddy flying skills fluttering to his ears in an instant. Well, that couldn’t be right – that would certainly have to be fixed, then. An idea came to the boy’s mind right then, hitting him harder than a pile of bricks. He kept it to himself, however, instead allowing the girl to continue on. Her next words were much like the first – but, instead of bringing the boy surprise, they instead carried humor. “You, snapping?”he asked curiously, a smile playing on his features. “But… you’re so nice. I can hardly believe such a thing.”
He chewed his lip for a moment more, considering whether he would offer his assistance or not. “As for flying –“ he started slowly, “if you’d ever want any private instruction, you could always come to me." He rubbed his neck awkwardly, his hair falling over his face as he bowed his head, his smile still evident. “It would be a welcome excuse to see you again,” he added, a small mumble. Was he flirting? Perhaps such words could be interpreted that way, but no… surely not, he convinced himself. He had a boyfriend, on he cared for greatly. Such actions towards another person could not be tolerated.
[He’d been a mess of hormones lately.]
The notes of the piano berated his head in the most soothing way, a wave of peace falling over the boy’s countenance as Lydia played on, a perfect harmony of all the right notes hitting at once. And then, per his request, she’d sung – her voice was that of a siren’s, silky, full, pristine and absolutely stunning – he closed his eyes, his brow furrowing contritely as he bit his lips, trying to keep his train of thought intact. It was a different sort of noise, not that of a human’s…. a part-veela, maybe? After all, he had come into contact with the sort before – the breed seemed to take over the mind, ridding any male of their common sense. The first time he’d come in contact with one – his [maybe?] boyfriend’s ex – he’d been utterly unprepared for her cool tones, and striking beauty. However, he was ready now, clearing his head of all attraction and focusing on the first thing he could think of. The face of a Slytherin boy, one he’d met in the owlery a while ago. Flash. Keep it out, keep the voice out…
It took a moment for the boy to realize the song was over – opening his eyes, he took a shaking breath, dismissing the fog from his head. His head was still dizzy, buzzing with the remnants of her perfect voice, his eyes carrying a rattled expression as he carded a hand through his hair, blinking a few times in order to wake his weary senses. “That was…” he searched for words. “Stunning, to say the least.” And to put it politely, at that. Her vocals were mesmerizing, enough so that he’d surely do something idiotic if he’d ever heard them again. Perhaps he should have feared her voice, in that moment… however, he couldn’t say he was scared, not in the least. Her voice was a challenge, one he’d be welcome to discover further. He’d just need to be… better prepared.
Quickly changing the subject, he turned to the piano once more. “You’re a ruddy good player, if I’d ever heard one," he added, his voice dripping with sincerity. “Your playing shows dedication – I can respect that.” He sent a gentle smile her way, one shining with cordiality, matched with a bright look in his eyes. “Though, if you wouldn’t mind too much…” He glanced at the piano, his eyes slightly longing. He wasn’t sure why he was offering such things to a girl he hardly knew. Perhaps it was the supposed ‘veela’ heratige. Or, maybe it was that the girl had put her own voice on the line. Part of him felt as if he owed it to the girl, having snapped at her so harshly when she’d first come in. He felt stupid, the words on the tip of his tongue, a bitter, sappy taste to them, the same taste of reluctance he’d always had before uttering a word of truth.
“Could I play for you?” [/font]
I probably haven't collected my allowance yet.
23 Mar 2020, 20:18
Forbidden Voices
@Rafael D'Spacito
“Captain, actually, of the Lion House.”
When Rafael told her that, Lydia could totally picture him now, flying on his broom in the Quidditch pitch. Lately Aaron had tried as much as he could to explain the game to her, since the last match of the season was approaching, but the girl still felt quite confused by the game. Still, she admired every single player with all her heart, she could have never had the courage to do what they did, especially not while flying several meters above the ground. Her admiration for the boy standing next to her grew even more, thinking that to not only be a quidditch player, but the Captain of a team required so much dedication and courage.
She grinned wide when the Gryffindor boy mentioned how good the Hufflepuff team was doing, unable to stop her house-pride from showing up. She might have not been a fan of the sport, but she was incredibly proud of her housemates. "I heard we have one of the best teams so far! I can't wait for them to win the next game and celebrate! My housemate Aaron is already so excited for it! I even agreed on going to watch the match this time," she admitted, her eyes glimmering with pride for her house.
When she talked about her sister and their relationship, Lydia could see Rafael's interest picking up, and she couldn't help her cheeks from blushing again. This boy had the ability to make her as red as a tomato in no time, and when he called her nice, Lydia knew that her face must have been bright red. "Trust me," she said as she looked down at her hands, her lips turned upward in a smile, "If you knew my sister you would understand. I love her, and I'll always take care of her, but sometimes she just... it's like one moment we're happily playing together, and the next we're screaming at each other for whatever reason. And I hate screaming, or arguing, especially with her, since she sounds almost like an eagle when she gets upset," Lydia chuckled and shook her head, her eyes looking back at Rafael, who looked like he wanted to say something as he chewed on his lips.
"He has nice lips," Lydia though as she stared at them for probably a moment too long. What was happening there? Since when did she think of Rafael, or any boy, that way? She thought back to her muggle friends, and she realised that after all it wasn't that weird, some kids at thirteen years old already had crush on people, so maybe that was normal. As she regained control of her thoughts, and her heart, that for a second felt as if it wanted to fly out of her chest, probably because of the "panic" she felt before, Lydia listened to Rafael offering to help her with her flying problem, and her eyes slightly widened at him admitting that this way they would have had a reason to see each other again. She couldn't help her lips from smiling though, no matter how much she tried to stop them while biting on her lower lip.
"I think... yeah-" she answered him, not really daring to look him in the eyes, worried that she might have misunderstood his (probable?) interest in her. "I'd love if you could help me, I'd be honoured," she added, and then finally looked up at him, her heart beating fast.
Lydia had been so absorbed by the music while she was playing and singing, that for a second she even forgot that she wasn't alone there. When she played the last note she looked up again at Rafael, and saw him with his eyes closed, his expression concentrated and for another second the red headed girl lost track of her thoughts as she simply stared at him. She quickly looked away as the boy opened his eyes again, her face getting red from the embarrassment and something else, something she couldn't understand yet, as he spoke. Lydia nervously bit her bottom lip again, her lips still turning into a shy smile. "Thank you Rafael..." she mumbled, loud enough for him to hear her.
When she looked back at him, she found him smiling and well, she thought that for a second her heart had stopped beating; his eyes looked so intense that they were almost too much, but she didn't look away, not until she followed Rafael's gaze to the piano and she immediately understood, before he even said it.
“Could I play for you?”
Lydia smiled wide at his question and nodded eagerly, before standing up to leave him the stool. "I would love that," she said, her voice soft, and she couldn't hold back her smile, too curious to know how good he was, and if maybe he was going to sings just like she did. She also had the feeling from their conversation, that Rafael didn't usually sing in front of other students, or at least not ones he had just met, so Lydia felt incredibly lucky that he was willing to do that for her.
She stood in the spot where Rafael was standing while she played, holding her own hands in front of her, ready to hear the Gryffindor boy play.
"Everything beautiful is ruined eventually."
|| PART VEELA || ALLURING || LOVELY CREATURE || SCREAM