The Way I Behaved PV Flash Holmwood Finished

Most mornings were exactly the same. A light, incessant beeping from his watch would hail the arrival of 5:45. Groggily reaching for the bedside table, Flash would swipe the watch up and click the button that ended the klaxon. He worried enough about disturbing his dorm mates that the panic woke him up right away. The feeling of the cold titanium on his wrist also brought his wakeful alertness back from the land of the sleeping unconscious.

He had not been having very restful sleep as of late. The months leading up to April were bad enough, but as the year went on, things only seemed to get heavier and worse. He wasn’t wandering around in a daze like he had before, when he let his burnout break him down completely. He had support now that he could rely on if he needed to talk, or to relax. Still, the pressure was squeezing on him like a vice grip, getting inched tighter and tighter to see how far it could go before breaking the skin.

He took a deep breath, rubbing his eyes clean and hopping out of the bed to start his morning routine. Wash his face, brush his teeth, get dressed for his jog, and leave the common room at 6am, when curfew officially ended. Routines had a knack for making one run on auto-pilot, miss important details, but Flash had enough going on in his life that he could never let his guard down. That was how he noticed Burnett’s bed was empty.

It was an eerie detail, one that instantly kicked him in his gut. Somehow, his first thought was that he was dragged off and killed by the perpetrator of the spider attacks, but he tried to write it off, given it didn’t make any sense. Still, it gave him an ominous discomfort that wouldn’t leave. He pathetically looked around his bed for any kind of clue, but all he could tell was that he had taken his cloak with him wherever he went. He hoped at least he was safe. Probably off doing some illicit past-curfew prank on someone.

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself. Flash didn’t like when things were out of place. He resolved to figure out where Burnett had gone, though he would likely be a wreck if he didn’t get some fresh air and clear his mind first. Even with the potted wildflowers he and Willow picked by his bed, nothing could help satiate the suffocating atmosphere of living in a dark basement underwater. Until he was outside, he would continue to feel sicker until he was outright nauseous.

With that, he made his way to the courtyard. Up until then nothing else was out of place. His footsteps were the only sound reverberating through the cavernous hallways, once again freshly vacant and still, as it was every morning. When things were completely silent, his thoughts could expand and develop properly. He could analyze his theories and conclusions, see if they felt the same after he had rested and time had passed. He could think about his lessons, his current research, or who he planned to spend time with on the weekend. Just being on the ground floor with the light of the sunrise shining through the windows, Flash was able to breathe again.

This morning however, his thoughts were stuck on Burnett. It was hard not to think about him. Even from just their first meeting he seemed to find a spot in his mind and made himself comfortable. Flash still hadn’t come to a definitive decision about his opinion on him, as any attempt to view his actions fairly came up with mixed results. He wasn’t trying to be understood, he wasn’t trying to be good or bad. In fact, no matter how many times he explained his ‘trickster ways’, Flash only felt pulled further away from how his mind really worked.

That was what drove Flash crazy. He could start to predict what Burnett might do, how his playbook looked, what kinds of reactions he was after, but it wasn’t helpful, there was no ticket in. He always pushed away, off into others, never grabbing back to take for himself. Of course he got a few things back. He got punched, threatened, and insulted plenty. Violence and aggression could never alter the root of his aggrivating behavior, so what good was any of it? The only real threat to Burnett was love, for whatever reason.

That made him diametrically opposed to Flash, who saw no greater purpose than to fill the world with as much love as possible. People needed human connection, needed to be close to each other. His whole body screamed for it, and he knew others felt the same. Even Ruka needed it, so badly that it apparently didn’t matter who it was with.

So what made Burnett so immune? Nothing, he wasn’t immune at all. A trained eye could see it easily, though the frustration was so great that Flash often got just as repelled as everyone else. After all, what was the point in understanding Burnett, when the act of knowing him would inevitably involve enduring his endless teasing and torment? What guarantee was there that anything worthwhile was on the other side of it all?

Well, that was how he had felt the last two months, more or less. Burnett had been giving him space, possibly because after his birthday, he refused to give Burnett the satisfaction of getting a rise out of him. At the talent show he tried at least twice to use Rafael to get at him, but he didn’t engage. That was the only way to shut down harassment: to deny them their desired reward. What reward Burnett was looking for exactly was only conjecture, but it seemed a great deal like he wanted to bring things to light. Incite change. Answer questions.

Who knew. Perhaps not even Ruka knew, as he had so boldly proclaimed before. That was likely it, the part that had him absolutely stuck. The insinuation that he was unknowable… was perhaps the most annoying part of the whole thing. Anytime anyone would try to get close, he would find a way to repulse them, so inevitably they would all give up. Flash couldn’t just… give up so easily. He just had so many more pressing concerns than trying to prove Burnett wrong. That was why he resolved to simply wait for a more opportune time. It wasn’t like Burnett was going anywhere.

At least, he had better not. His anxiety through March had only grown worse as the Blossom Ball approached. Opeila had decided to put herself directly in harm’s way, and as far as he knew, the person responsible for the attack on Slytherin and Hufflepuff was going to be in attendance. What if Burnett had messed with the wrong person? No, it was probably just some kind of mischief. He hoped it was.

The deafening silence of the peopleless castle was slowly dissolved by the sound of song. As he opened the doors to the outside, the distant sounds of the blackbirds nested outside could be heard in full. They were also creatures of habit. Every morning it was the same birds in the same roosts singing the same songs. It took no time at all to notice something was different.

More singing, human. Flash’s eyes followed the sound, though it was a bit distant. Tracking it down curiously, the nearing to it brought two distinct conclusions. Burnett… thank goodness... It meant Burnett was safe, but that Flash was likely in danger. He was being targeted, singled out, met in private. Those were rarely good things to be, and he doubted Burnett had been breaking curfew just to sing.

At the very least he may as well see what it was. Even though he had been led into a trap and had his name get switched, among other such humiliations, Burnett also had a side to him that aligned with Flash’s feelings perfectly, however rare it was. He appreciated being shown the magic room, and still greatly benefitted from the books he continued to acquire there. Also, he appreciated that he put so much effort into helping Ruka. He didn’t even know the half of it, but Ruka had made it clear that the lengths he had gone to were great. Even one look at Ruka’s locket would tell anyone that anyway.

It was a nice song, for what it was worth. It had a poetic way of spinning its tale, touched by the sort of rustic wit of a folk song. One could be mistaken for thinking he was wistfully calling for the love of his life to come sweep him off his feet. Perhaps he sang it out of some droll sense of irony, waiting for Flash to arrive.

”Was there something I could help you with, Burnett?” Flash spoke once the song had ended, not having dared to come close enough that his intrusion would end it. Regardless of the situation, Flash still wanted to enjoy the music. ”Or did you just want to serenade me?”

@Jack Burnett

@Flash Holmwood

When the ring of Flash’s voice finally broke the silence that followed Jack’s last line of song, the redhead lowered his head to look from the horizon to the dew-crested grass blades beneath him, snorting in amusement as a soft smile played on his lips.

"Always asking to help, never asking to be helped," he commented, his tone comprised of equal parts humor, bitterness, and melancholy.

Then it rose in pitch to a silly, mocking falsetto. "'Such a gentleman, Flash!' 'So self-sacrificing, Flash.' 'You're going to break if you don't watch yourself, Flash.'" As he spoke, his voice gradually traded more satire for seriousness until it had completely reverterd to its former, almost monotone sound. "And no one else will be able to put you back together."

After a contemplative moment, he twisted around half-way where he sat to look at his dorm mate at last. "How are you not knackered by it all? Putting up with everyone's selfishness and ignorance...maybe it wouldn't be so painful to watch if they actually knew what they were doing to you; how much they were taking and how little they were giving in return."

He ran a hand through his bedhead hair, glancing off to the side once more. "But they don't. They're all too dense to realize what it actually takes to be a real friend. Even while they know what they want and accept it without complaint, they don't spare a second thought for what you might want or need back."

Jack turned his back on Flash once more, holding his head in his hands like it was too heavy for his neck. "It makes me sick," he hissed darkly under his breath. "Like how you couldn't stand the way Ross would just drag himself through Potions class and ask others for help without bothering to put in even half the effort that you did.

"At first I tried to tell myself it wasn't my business; that you would eventually find out the hard way what your chosen path would lead to. I even tried to return your stray lambs to you by encouraging them to give you the benefit of the doubt even if I thought you might have been better off without them." The redhead removed his hands from the sides of his head and folded them against each other to form a bridge he could rest his chin atop.

"But the longer you masquerade as everyone's crutch, the harder it is for me to ignore the abuse you put yourself through - the inevitable toll that the stress and strain of others' burdens piled on top of your own will take on you until you finally break down completely." He sighed, closing his eyes another minute before finally pushing himself back up on his feet.

Turning to face his peer directly, he casually clasped his hands behind his back. "Listen, I know you probably don't trust me, especially after the vindictive prank involving the Valentine's Day card laced with amortentia. I make it difficult for people; I know that. And you have every reason to doubt me." His hazel gaze leveled with Flash's light blue.

"You also might be thinking I'm the last person who has any right to tell you to rely on others since I usually prefer to do things myself as well." The boy began to pace in place a bit; a few steps to the left, then a few to the right, then back again.

"But even I know when to ask for help every now and then. I just don't accept it without the agreement of a mutual, fair exchange. That, at least, is something we both do, right?" Ceasing in his steps, Jack inclined his head slightly to the side, studying his fellow Slytherin.

"So, I propose we make a deal. I'd ask for five favors, but if that's too few or too many more than you think you'd ever want or need of me, feel to increase or decrease the number as you see fit. You decide and we can go from there. Is that alright with you?"

Burnett started to mutter to himself, not even turning to look at him. Another pointlessly deft observation. It hadn’t escaped Flash’s notice that Burnett had started to give Flash unsolicited advice about his life. At the talent show, he kept looking right at him when he talked about Rafael’s shortcomings, and at the dorm battle he made a remark about how Opeila took him for granted. Even when he appeared as though he was trying to be nice, Flash hadn’t engaged. What he hadn’t expected was for Burnett to actually get upset.

He wasn’t upset about being ignored, well, that could have been a part of it as well, but instead he seemed upset at Flash for how he was living his life. How entitled do you have to be… Flash settled himself in for another lecture. A lot of people lately seemed entitled to an opinion about his life. It seemed his choices were somehow incomprehensible to people, even though they had perfect clarity in Flash’s eyes. Things had been easier when he just kept it all to himself and no one asked about it.

Taunting Flash with false adoration, ditching it slowly until Burnett nearly spat to say that he was expecting Flash to break. Flash couldn’t see the expression he was making, but his shoulders were tensed and his head was limp. Why did it sound like he was mourning something? Flash wondered if once again he somehow managed to do something wrong by not having enough information. Had he missed something important? Even though he had a few close calls, he was still under control. He wasn’t going to break. Burnett was only just underestimating how much Flash was willing to endure.

He had tried to explain what it meant to him before, how it was necessary, but Burnett couldn’t grasp it. He could only understand his own narrow view of what it meant to be alive, to exist. The discrepancy in their beliefs seemed to bother him enough that he could no longer even stand to mention it in passing. Is he really trying to… intervene?

Burnett swiveled his torso, finally making eye contact. He looked tired. He explained his thoughts rather clearly, though the point-of-view wasn’t a surprise to Flash. Burnett struggled with Flash’s acceptance of imbalanced relationships. When he saw the help that he gave out so freely, he saw it as Flash being taken advantage of.

”You don’t know what I get out of it. It’s not individual recognition, nor is it meaningless validation.” Flash considered continuing with what he got instead, but held back. He still didn’t know if he could trust Burnett not to use anything he said against him. Words were weapons for the fox, so the more that Flash said, the more Burnett could tear into and destroy. ”It doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”

Burnett took a turn to look off into the distance, so Flash joined him. He was admittedly also still tired, his nerves had given him a bit of a strange mood that morning. No thanks to Burnett himself, though it wasn’t his job to keep Flash updated about his whereabouts either. Ever since daylight savings, the sun had started rising much earlier, usually brightening the area right as he left the castle. The sunrise was starting to dissipate into the normal pale blue of early morning.

If Burnett needed to get this off his chest, Flash would listen. He clearly needed to speak his mind, talking about ‘real friends’, of all things. Of course, it had been admittedly confusing lately, what with Ruka and Rafael making him feel things he didn’t want to think about, but Flash’s mind insisted he didn’t ‘want or need’ anything from the people he called his friends. If he wasn’t going to ever belong among people, he would simply enjoy the reflected light from the periphery. He could learn to cut that out too. He was still able to be happy around them, to enjoy himself. It was more than he deserved anyway, he was only ever meant to watch the game board from outside, making sure all the pieces were well taken care of, moving in the right direction. You couldn’t be a game master and a piece at the same time, you had to be removed. Above.

“It makes me sick.”

Burnett intentionally turned his back to Flash again, even holding his head. What is this… an act? It seemed so real, yet how could Burnett possibly care that much about what Flash needed? He mentioned his first interaction with Ross-- a situation he later became embarrassed of, a mistake. He let his bad mood taint his decision to enact petty revenge. While strangely enough the whole ordeal lead to the two of them becoming closer, the initial reaction was unacceptable behavior. Even though the whole thing had destroyed him emotionally for a short while, it could have been worse. At least he had learned a valuable lesson, his methods since then were a lot more honed and effective.

It was, however, slightly amusing that Burnett thought Flash would learn another lesson entirely. Flash tried to think on what exactly he thought he was meant to learn. That I’m not appreciated? What does it matter… A real good person wasn’t dependent on being appreciated in order to do the right thing. Flash didn’t need the world to thank him, he just needed it to run correctly. That would be his reward, the world being a better place because of him. How could that not be worth it?

Apparently it was difficult for Burnett to watch. What a bleeding heart… I never asked to be empathized with… Flash always tried to keep his pain private. He had started to open up recently, a little bit, in small amounts, but it was hard to hide everything. Especially to someone who slept in the same room as him. He went to sleep earlier than the other boys, no doubt any of them could have seen the trouble he was having finding peace at night. He didn’t need them to notice. Why am I being watched anyway?

”If you hate it so much then look away.” That was the obvious answer.

Whatever Burnett thought he would gain from keeping an eye on him, he instead saw himself looking at an empty vessel, slowly carving out the remnants of the child that used to be inside it. Flash was fine with being that. It was better than the alternative. The alternative led to horrible outcomes every time. Like his disaster of a first kiss. Perhaps Burnett was the selfish one for wanting Flash to be someone that made him more comfortable.

Funnily enough, Burnett took that moment to instead look directly at him, eye to eye. He opined about his own untrustworthiness, acknowledging that he was in no position to insist Flash do anything he said. As if he wasn’t already freely speaking his mind, as if his position changed much of what he planned to say to Flash once he decided to say it. Also mentioning the irony itself, friendship being a subject he might have alleged himself to have no expertise in. Then what’s your point?

Knowing when to ask for help? He really didn’t know what he was talking about. Mutual exchange was right, he asked for help plenty. In fact, the entire point of making so many strong, personal connections was having the exact set of keys he needed to ask just the right person for just the right thing. It worked brilliantly, whenever he needed to solve a problem, he could move the pieces accordingly and they would all gladly do as he told them. That wasn’t really what Burnett was talking about however, because he had a problem with something Flash didn’t think needed any help to begin with.

Then, an offer. Not exactly where Flash thought this train of thought was headed, but he could see the path that led there. You want permission to meddle in my affairs. That was the way it came off right away. He knew Flash had no reason to go along with his offer at all, and even had reason to scoff at it and walk off. The approach he took was likely intentional, he already admitted to watching him. They were outside, they were alone, and he had all but dropped the teasing right from the beginning. He was being… very serious. Just because his position was so misguided didn’t mean Flash could simply laugh off someone who was trying to be heard. It was indecent.

”Before I even consider agreeing to anything, there are things I want explained.” Flash furrowed his brow, wondering whether he would try to weasel himself out of giving a straight answer. ”Why bother? What good does it do you to have me in one piece?”

Flash narrowed his eyes, having a vague idea of the answer already, but needing Burnett to admit it. If he refused to say it out loud, what was the point of feeling it in the first place. Even if he didn’t confirm his suspicions, he was interested in what excuse he would make instead.

”It sounds to me like you want me to dote on you like I do everyone else… but you want to feel good about asking for it.” He knew this wasn’t at all what Burnett wanted to hear. In part, Flash may have enjoyed having the upper hand in one of their conversations a bit too much. He had been waiting so patiently for it, after all. ”You think giving me a few favors will ease the guilt? Make you feel better?”

@Jack Burnett

@Flash Holmwood

Staring through the ground as Flash pointed out that he didn't know what the other boy got out of his interactions, Jack nodded silently in aknowledgement. He was certainly willing to admit that there may have been benefits Flash recieved that he himself wasn't aware of or couldn't make sense of. However, that didn't change the feeling he felt that the other boy was hiding something.

'Doesn't bother you in the slightest'? Then what is it that does? Because something must be. Even if nothing did now, Jack was not confident that would remain the case forever.

The command to look away, however, incited such irritation in Jack that it bordered on true anger and surprised the boy with the intensity of his own emotions.

"You think I haven't tried that?!" he snapped in a rare moment of unbridled frustration. Almost immediately he regretted it, taking another deep breath as he attempted to reel himself back in. "...It's not...that easy." His brows furrowed deeply. "You can't stop worrying about something just because you want to."

He kept uncharacteristically quiet until his dorm mate addressed him once more. Jack glanced up, ears perked, when Flash asked for some things to be explained.

With those blue eyes narrowed pointedly at him like a wand, the redhead almost shied away from them once more, but managed this time to hold his ground and meet them straight-on. As he struggled to consider how to properly respond with a satisfactory answer, his mouth opened uncertainly, then closed. In the meantime, Flash was busy making his own conjectures about what Jack wanted.

"I don't," he responded hurriedly; almost desperately, as if pleading with Flash to believe him. The betraying sound of the second syllable caused him to wince inwardly at his own carelessness. He hung his head in despair, wondering how to navigate through the maze he himself had made to keep anyone from finding him. The other Slytherin's accusatory questions wormed into his mind to seek him out, causing him to question himself.

Was Flash right? What was he doing this for?

"No!" he burst out. "I would rather you beat me to a bloody pulp than dote on me like you do everyone else! At least then I could be sure you meant it in every ounce of strength you put into your attacks. But words? As someone who wields them as my greatest weapon, don't you think I know how conversely empty they can also be?"

Jack shook his head at the ground in exasperation. "You don't understand, Flash," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "At first I thought it was just amusing how you tried to play a role you thought would get everyone to like you. It was just pathetically funny to me. But then when I saw what you did for Stephens…I knew that wasn't all there was to you."

He scowled. "I'll bet you didn't even really defend yourself when Anderson accused you of being deceitful, did you? She didn't even know what you did, but you knew. You knew and felt guilty enough about it that you accepted her desire to end your friendship with her without so much as a fight. Probably because you thought you deserved it."

He threw out his arms. "But you don't deserve it!" he protested. "You never did! It's not fair! I don't…I don't know how you can put up with this!" Jack anxiously slid his palms over his face and hair, as if attempting to keep them from violently seeking out anything else.

"I even tried…to be like you for a day. To do my best to be friendly so I could be liked. And I found out how difficult it was. I couldn't take it; not even for more than a few hours." He peered back up at Flash. "We may be different kinds of people, Flash. But we're alike enough that I'm pretty sure you're lying when you say 'it doesn't bother you in the slightest.'"

Rubbing his arm, Jack looked back at the grass. "Believe it or not, there are people in this world and even at this school that, despite my best efforts, I've come to care about." He forced himself to turn back to his peer to admit to his reluctant confession. "You're one of them."

Flash couldn’t completely erase the surprise from his face, his eyebrows staying lifted the moment Burnett seemed earnestly upset. He was so used to seeing his cheeky grin that he hadn’t realized what it meant for it to be gone.

It was a strange conceit-- he seemed angry that he couldn’t ignore it, of all things. It was almost like how Flash couldn’t ignore the serious tone Burnett was taking on. His petty need to give him a taste of his own medicine evaporated like a cup of water thrown into a raging fire.

Burnett was frustrated, trying to explain himself. Why on earth does he care? He tried to figure if it might have had something to do with Ruka, like a misguided attempt to make Flash obey his last request. The path of the conversation just didn’t fit. Had Ruka stayed silent about it after all?

Flash couldn’t dwell on the connection, since Burnett began to fight back against the implications Flash asserted. He animatedly described how little he wanted to be doted on, no doubt because of how ‘empty’ it was. After the things Ruka had said to him earlier that month, Burnett’s criticism found a foothold past Flash’s inherent acceptance of his lot in life.

Burnett started to go off, explaining in a hushed voice how he saw him, starting from the first time they met. Most of their knowledge of each other was second hand, they had really only spoken one-on-one two times, and in both Flash had gotten the distinct impression that Burnett and him would never get along.

Flash himself had been learning a lot about Burnett, though mostly through Ruka. He had the locket made for him, he got him clothes and shoes, helped him get back on his feet when no one else would. He also answered for his own mistake when he helped Willow with her panic attack, all things that hadn’t passed without Flash’s notice.

Still, he imagined they lived in different worlds. Flash didn’t belong with a trickster who questioned him and his choices. At least, he didn’t think he did. Wasn’t he making fair points, after all? Ruka talked about the same thing, about how he was being used. It was unfair. If that was true, why was this the first he was hearing about it?

Then, Burnett was basically yelling, throwing his arms out in frustration. Flash dropped the nonplussed expression he was keeping aloft, something to hide behind until he knew how he felt. He was unhappy. Burnett was angry for him. He had lashed out himself a time or two, hating himself for doing it. Somehow Burnett felt angry too. Why am I sad…

This had been what Burnett was trying to say back during Flash’s birthday. Of course he didn’t understand why Flash had to ignore his pain, but that was besides the point. He was in pain, all of the time. He so rarely got a taste of happiness that he ended up taking it to the extreme every time. If he didn’t stop sinking deeper, he was going to go insane.

It was a strange thing to admit to himself. He suddenly felt eight months of misery and toil in his skin, almost feeling nauseous from it. His eyes fogged, but he tried to hold it back. It was already too late though, as he could feel it trying to burst down the door.

That was the face Burnett saw when he said he thought Flash was lying. Apparently he was right. He had been lying to himself so much that it became the truth. He had been too scared to be a disappointment, too scared of being hated. He still was.

Then, the mood having been about as dour as it possibly could have been, Burnett topped it all off by saying he cared. Does he? How is that even possible? It didn’t make any sense, the two of them weren’t close. Flash and Willow were close, weren’t they? Did Willow not see that he was suffering? How could she, he made sure she never saw it.

But Burnett saw it. He and Ruka were trying to warn him from the start, but why? Maybe it was a trick, it had to be. It didn’t matter, it was for the best…

Marius’ words in his head started to run together. He couldn’t even remember what they were supposed to mean. He had been away from the mansion for eight months, and it had felt like his parents had been standing behind him, watching, the entire time. The thought of crying terrified him, yet the truth was his family wasn’t watching him now. They couldn’t tell him to stop.

Flash wiped away at the tears as they fell. It wasn’t much, but releasing them gave cause for an accompanying sigh.

”You care.” Flash repeated it, his voice groggy and irritated. ”How strange.”

A pointless observation. How strange it was to be cared about. He didn’t even know if he liked it or hated it. Whether it had been real or calculated, it seemed Burnett had used his words effectively. They certainly tore something.

”If that’s true maybe your favors won’t be too unkind.” Flash righted himself, rubbing his hands together to generate some warmth in the cool morning air. ”I can see how it appeals to you. Always getting what’s due. Five is alright. We can renegotiate after that.”

@Jack Burnett

@Flash Holmwood

At first, Jack thought he had gotten through to Flash if the astonished look on his dorm mate's face was anything to go by. Still, at what cost? Had the price been too steep; giving away a piece of himself he could now never take back? Perhaps it had been a mistake after all. What reason did Flash have to take him seriously this time of all times? And even if he did believe him, what then? He could just end up laughing in his face at what a fool Jack was before walking away.

Before he could even start to regret his decision or try to make excuses for his behavior, however, he noticed the other Slytherin's blue hues begin to gleam extraordinarily bright from the thin film of liquid that had formed over them. Jack was unaware of how his own brows steepled out of deep concern at the sight, his body similarly moving before he had time to comprehend his reaction.

The boy drew closer without thinking, spreading his arms to envelop the pained, lonesome figure in what was intended to be a comforting embrace. It was the very sort that Jack's parents were somehow always able to use to draw forth from him any and all tears he withheld inside, whether he knew they existed or not. It was, to Jack, a magic more powerful than any he had yet encountered at Hogwarts, and though his parents were both muggles, he still doubted his ability to duplicate their technique.

Still, he felt he had to try. As bothersome as it was to be forcibly squeezed out like a sponge with what seemed to be a physical manifestation of the purest affection, Jack found he'd almost always felt lighter after; like his misery had been wrung from him right along with his tears.

Besides, whether Flash was hoarding more salt water sorrow or not, it hurt something deep down in Jack just to see those few drops shed at his meager words. Sure, the confession might have meant a great deal to Jack, but from an outsider's perspective, to be cared about was a concept he'd thought that most other kids their age were so familiar with, they regularly took it for granted.

Apparently not Flash. Nor Selim. Nor Erin. Ruka, though his time with his father had been fleeting compared to other children, had given Jack the impression that said father had always loved and been there for him unconditionally as his own parents had. But for these other magic-immersed families and pureblooded folk with traditions to uphold, reputations to maintain, and responsibilities to pass down, was the show of affection such a foreign concept?

"Jack?" The Slytherin remembered when Ruka had asked him a question back at the Hospital Wing toward the end of February. It had been when Selim had recoiled at Jack's efforts to hold him close, verging on the beginning of another panic attack. "What’s wrong with him?"

He remembered adopting a small, painful smile and reaching out to reassuringly ruffle the Gryffindor's hair. "Nothing's wrong with him," he'd replied. "He's just lonely and scared...like the rest of us."

Initially, Jack had thought it had simply been something wrong with Selim's family or perhaps something to do with their strict and disciplined Japanese culture. The more he came to learn about the backgrounds of other students at Hogwarts, though, the more he began to realize how commonplace it was for a child his age in the wizarding world to be unfamiliar with the simple warmth of a hug. Just how many kids their age were left to feel lonely and scared by their so-called families?

Maybe it wasn't truly as common as it was beginning to seem to him. Regardless, the redhead felt compelled to fill the lives of those he knew and had come to care about with the same unconditional compassion and concern that he had grown up with and had previously assumed was the norm. Whatever they thought of such behavior, he wanted to make sure they got used to it.

It was quickly becoming Jack's opinion - if he hadn't already subconsciously believed so all along - that everyone had the right to believe at least one person cared about them without any strings attached. He may not have had the patience or will to be that person for everyone; he wasn't Flash. But…at the very least, Jack thought he could work on the select few cracked and chipped souls who he'd had the luck of crossing paths with and recognizing for what they were.

"You care," Flash had reiterated.

It had almost sounded like the words were meant to mock Jack, but they were peculiar in that they could have just as easily been spoken to simply reaffirm their truth to the speaker. As if he scarcely dared swallow it as the truth.

"How strange."

"Yeah, well…just goes to show how oblivious you are to think so," Jack tried to joke while trying to ward off the chill that surrounded his housemate with his own body heat. His attempt at a laugh was choked by a sudden constriction of his throat. What were the chances of his tear-wringing hug backfiring on him?

Oh well. Too late to worry about that now.

"You doofus!" he sniffed through a broad grin, hugging Flash tighter than ever as if in punishment. "You really don't know how my favors work, do you? With me, anything is negotiable as long as you're willing to try. You're not bound to them the instant you agree to an exchange of favors. I like to make sure both parties can mutually agree on the terms before they're committed to. That means if you think anything I ask of you is unfair or 'unkind', you can turn me down. Just a reason as to why would be appreciated so I can come up with something better."

If not pushed or shoved away, Jack would continue to keep his hold on the other first-year as if his life depended on it. Turning his head slightly to speak next to Flash's ear, his voice once more took on a sober, serious quality.

"If I read our first encounter correctly, you're like me in that you prefer to get debts settled as quickly as possible so you don't have anything owed to anyone else held over your head." The redhead casually rested his chin on the other Slytherin's shoulder. "So I'll make sure to let you know all my requests before we go back inside. But, in the meantime…"

He smirked at the blue-eyed brunet. "You planning to get going on that morning walk or run or jog or whatever it is you do? You probably wouldn't be as cold if I hadn't detained you from it for so long already." Jack shrugged with a crooked grin. "Unless you just want to continue sharing what body heat we already have. That's fine by me. Not like my reputation would be tarnished any worse if anyone happened to look out and see us from a window."

Nearly as soon as the tears had started to fall, his compromised vision left him defenseless against Burnett’s approach. Before he knew what was happening, he was wrapped tightly in Burnett’s arms, a small gasp escaping his mouth from its suddenness. The fear and surprise didn’t last long, even though his normal reaction would be repulsion to the idea of being touched suddenly. It wasn’t as if he didn’t receive hugs, his mother was almost overbearing with them. Willow too always greeted him with a big hug whenever they saw each other. He was used to them, even though they made him feel nothing. He understood what they meant for the person giving them, and learned how to accept them as graciously as possible.

But this was different. Perhaps it was the words he had been saying, or the desperate need for affection he had been ignoring, but his hug felt like it was for him, not Burnett. He could feel it in the way he pressed against him without any inhibition, the way it happened so quickly, like an automatic reaction to his pain. His heart could hardly take it. His barrier disintegrated in the face of his brazen acceptance, leading him to melt into the embrace completely. Any gap that was left between them was filled as Flash’s arms lifted to grab Burnett’s back, gripping him with perilous longing.

It made him feel better, by a great metric. He let his mind wander as his heart finally enjoyed what it had been trying to desperately demand. He could have looked at himself from afar and commented on how pathetic he was, or how inappropriate it was to let himself be taken in by Burnett like a lost lamb, but he simply didn’t want to. He was being given permission to be held, and was so tired of telling himself no. He didn’t know what was right anyway, maybe this was right.

Burnett tried to make light of the situation, but Flash could feel his interrupted laugh on his neck. It seemed he was far more sentimental than Flash ever imagined. Is it really not strange…? Flash wondered how true that was, considering the circumstances of his upbringing were not the norm. He didn’t want to think badly of his family, who had always only ever wanted the best for him. It was Flash’s fault for misunderstanding, for taking things too far. The whole year seemed like nothing but confusion and hardship. Perhaps ‘oblivious’ was just the right word for it.

However, once Flash accepted the favors, Burnett chided him again, squeezing his ribcage in retribution. Flash had always assumed that ‘favors’ meant something severe that could be taken advantage of, words twisted to keep an unfair balance. From his own account, it seemed Burnett was actually more interested in coming to an agreement. Another sign of Flash’s fear of persecution. This was part of the puzzle he had never factored in, that perhaps Ruka was so dedicated to Burnett because he deserved it. Not that Flash was about to devote his life to him, he could only just admit how much he had let his annoyance color his perception.

If he had realized that was how the favors worked earlier, he might have accepted them sooner. Or not, it was hard to say for certain. Even when he saw Burnett’s form on the horizon that morning, he had been apprehensive of what he wanted to do to him. Hugging had not been on the list of possibilities, but here he was, holding on without any sign of letting go. Flash dug his head into Burnett’s collar, burying his face from the threat of scrutiny. There, he was enveloped by Burnett’s scent, something that always quickly drew Flash’s attention when he got close to someone. The smell was always most notable underneath the clothes, so he began to nuzzle himself in, memorizing the smell and forgetting personal boundaries once again.

Then he was gently brought back to reality. Burnett began to say he would tell him the favors he intended to ask for, but told him he ought to go off on his jog, before someone saw them entwined together. Reputation… I’m so sick of that word... But regardless of his feelings, it was still important. He had sunk too much into it to just let it scatter to the wind on a whim. Still, even if he was joking, he didn’t want to hear it from Burnett. Likely toying with him again. This time, he would toy back. He turned his face from where it was nestled to the skin nearby, so his breath could be felt as he talked.

”Shall I give them something worth watching?”

Finally, the sweet taste of revenge. He pulled away far enough to appreciate the reaction he was hoping to receive, a self-satisfied grin on his face. He didn’t let go.

@Jack Burnett

@Flash Holmwood

At first, the redhead was genuinely startled to find Flash so accepting of his instinctual hug - so startled, in fact, that his own paranoia kicked in and he had to wonder if Flash wasn't simply behaving as he might have thought Jack hoped he would behave. After all, Jack was no more a fan of hugs than Flash was; perhaps even less so due to the fact that he usually had a lower tolerance of them when given by others.

However, the physical intimacy seemed to be something that the Welsh boy, too, subconsciously craved deep down, because he didn't flinch or stiffen in response; only melted further against his peer as if the mutual response had fused them even closer. He was also wretchedly grateful that the embrace kept Flash from seeing his face just then, because the blue-eyed boy's yearning grip on his back had somehow seemed to trigger Jack's tear ducts of all things. He shut his eyes tight as if in an attempt to keep them from leaking, taking a deep, shuddering breath.

Maybe it was because it reminded him of the few other times he had given such tight, meaningful hugs - hugs to two people who Jack hadn't really been able to be close with since the beginning of the month. Maybe it was due to idea that, just perhaps, Flash might have finally received an inkling of the true compassion that was felt for him and that he rightfully deserved through this hug; that he had actually been willing to accept it as such.

Because, as much as Jack's precarious nature like to caution him otherwise, he thought he knew in the depths of his heart and his gut that the Flash in his arms just then was completely real in his bare vulnerability. Unfortunately, the suddenness of his lowered defenses automatically disarmed Jack's as well. He knew this, but couldn't bring himself to care. Not right then. There were more important things that mattered.

The pressure of the other Slytherin's head pressing against his collar forced Jack to swallow hard, forcing the unshed tears further down while he could as the a few premature ones strayed from the edges of his eyes. Flowers...blossoms...petals...spring. It took a moment for him to register that the scents he was taking in weren't from any environmental source, but from Flash himself. At that unexpected realization, he had to crack a crooked grin. What boy smells like flowers?

As for Jack, the redhead smelled strongly of books both new and old: their printed ink, crisp parchment, spine glue, strong thread, leather bindings, and textured covers. It was a result of the large amount of time he spent reading and studying books outside of class both for the sake of his academic career and for pure pleasure in the gaining of knowledge. Though he was rarely seen with his nose in his tomes in public, his carefully-maintained 'slacker' image would have been easily thwarted by the distinctive fragrance of books had anyone gotten close enough to smell and recognize it for what it was.

Jack was so amused and blissfully occupied taking in Flash's unique smell that he did not seem to mind the way the other boy nestled even closer to him. He was, by now, familiar with both Selim's and Ruka's previously expressed desires to feel physically close and knew that he, too, enjoyed the intimacy regardless of what he might have answered had he been asked about it.

The 12-year-old might have sought knowledge, but there were still many things that his young mind had yet to touch. One such thing was the idea of why their physical intimacy just then might have ever been considered inappropriate, embarrassing, or shameful. Other than getting a bit self-conscious about how he might have smelled to Flash, Jack couldn't help but think the behavior of the other boy's burrowing was cute - like a kitten pursuing more warmth against its mother. It wasn't until Flash spoke again that it occurred to Jack there might have been more behind the behavior than he'd originally assumed.

"Shall I give them something worth watching?"

Shit.

The feel of his peer's breath on his neck caused him to exhale so sharply, he almost made a sound. Hazel eyes back flickered open. The redhead hadn't been given such a strong taste of his own psychological medicine since the first time Rafael had tried to use his charming smile against him. Only, this was maddeningly worse.

Shit shit shitshitshitshit!!

Back then, the Gryffindor Quidditch Player had rapidly followed up his flirtatious look with an aggressive action, slamming Jack against a wall and easily snapping the Slytherin out of whatever trance he might have been caught in.

Flash, however, was no violence-favoring Gryffindor. He knew exactly what he wanted to do and, distressingly, that it would have a considerable impact on his dorm mate. Perhaps he just hadn't guessed how considerable. The usually talkative boy was left floundering for a proper response as those sky blue eyes pierced his, rendering him incapable of looking away.

"O-okay, I know what I said about my reputation not being tarnished, but...you do realize that D'Spacito probably wants to literally murder me already, right...?" His own grin became feeble and the sight of Flash's had made his knees weak. He had forgotten how devastatingly horrifying it was to feel so helpless. "Anything we might do 'worth watching' is definitely not going to improve his opinion of me...whew. Um...is it just me, or is it really...warm all of a sudden?"

By this time, the Welsh boy had experienced his heart rate increase alarmingly so that his whole body seemed to throb with it. Furthermore, alongside his weakened knees, he felt his blood ruddy his complexion, his stomach flip-flop, his confidence plummet, and his temperature rise steadily higher to an uncomfortable degree. He was somehow even ridiculously self-conscious of the meager 2.5 cm height difference between him and his housemate.

Jack recalled he had felt all these things once before, but he was no more aware of what they meant this time than what they had meant then. For all intents and purposes, by animal instinct standards, it seemed he was deathly afraid of Flash. But why? Had the other Slytherin cast some sort of magic on him? Or was it perhaps the fear of potentially wanting to be friends?

If he tried to let go and part ways now, though, would Flash catch on? Probably. Not to mention the redhead wasn't even sure if he'd be able to stand on his own just then with how shaky his legs suddenly seemed to be. The heat between them, however, was starting to make Jack feel dizzy. Was it just him, or was Flash getting to be too warm as well? His grin suggested that, regardless of the truth, he seemed to be enjoying himself. It actually caused the Welsh boy to shiver slightly as he was reminded of the smile Flash wore when he'd felt he'd 'triumphed' over Ross. Was that what was happening here? Flash was trying to triumph over him?

Well, if that truly was the case, the brunet boy should have had more than enough to be satisfied with by then. The last time Jack had been inspired by fear this crippling and intense, it had been when Gem had tried to show him kindness, assuring Jack he could open up to him. The Slytherin had been so frightened of the Ravenclaw's sweetness that he'd said and done things to cause Gem to do a 180. The usually kind boy had ended their interaction after having threatened, backhanded, and spat on Jack before turning to leave.

After all Jack had said and done to persuade Flash of the truth - that he truly cared about him - he didn't dare attempt to do anything that could have ruined the new understanding between them like he had with Gem. That tactic wasn't an option this time. So...what was it he could do instead without seeming too nervous?

Oh, right - what he always did. Talk.

"Speaking of D'Spacito..." he changed the topic with a brittle, sheepish laugh, "Is he...good to you? Do you...think you like him? "

At first, the reaction was priceless. It did a heart good to watch someone get what was coming to them. It also worked as a poetic sort've bookend to their first ever meeting. It was funny, looking back on it now and knowing Burnett better. It had ended with Flash feeling embarrassed and confused, having had something personal of his used against him to cause a reaction. He had no way of knowing that Flash would be petty enough to continue to want to get back at him for all that time. No, perhaps petty wasn’t even the right word for it. He was being playful.

Even after Flash had moved further away from his paranoia about his fellow students being out to destroy him, he still mostly maintained his aversion to troublemakers. Their rules of engagement were different, they often had a lot less at stake if things went badly for them. They couldn’t be reasoned with the same way as others. They often had their own set of rules they followed, so without knowing them you had no footing in any kind of negotiation. Flash was starting to learn Burnett’s rule book, and with that, how to catch him off guard. He had to admit after a moment however that it was a much stronger reaction than he had anticipated.

He looked back into Flash’s eyes like a fish on a hook, struggling against an inevitable fate. He fell over his words, his whole body almost imperceptibly shaking and swaying. Was it… revulsion? Flash had a creeping sense of guilt inch into his mind, spreading and squirming through his thoughts. It was a bit of an inappropriate thing to joke about, if not given their age and gender, then certainly given his encounter with Ruka earlier in the month. It had been such an opportune moment to make the jab that Flash hardly thought of the consequences. Without Burnett taking the ribbing in stride, he was left to deal with the fact that he had just made their embrace extremely uncomfortable.

Not that he made a move to let go. Perhaps he should have, but at the moment it felt as though he was helping keep Burnett upright. He began to babble something about D’Spacito… Rafael? When the realization slowly dawned on him of exactly what he was implying, it was Flash’s turn to become bashful. His mouth twitched and shrunk to a thin, flat line, his eyes widened and his brow furrowed. Inside, he may as well have been screaming.

He had assumed back during the talent show that Burnett had been teasing in the same manner anyone would-- making fun of peoples’ closeness by insinuating they were in love, that they were cute together. He didn’t think it had any truth to it, at least, back then it hadn’t. Back then, he hadn’t entertained the notion at all, he was only idly basking in the warm glow of Rafael’s attention and kind words. It wasn’t until later that Flash feared that his desire for his attention had become something more. Something where he craved even more of it, as much as he could possibly be afforded.

It was after he kissed Ruka. Before then, he didn’t know what the point was. He didn’t expect to ever be interested in monopolizing someone’s attention onto himself, or to desire to be loved. His mother told him as much, that youthful romance was pointless, and he expected to agree. No, he still agreed, it was a frivolous endeavor that bore no fruit. Except… the moment it had happened, things felt as though they had clicked into place without any coaxing. He had to convince himself to pry himself away, had to convince himself it was wrong despite loving the feeling it gave him.

It was confusing, to say the least, not made any better by the insinuation that Rafael would ‘kill’ Burnett if the two of them were seen acting amorous. Even worse that he seemed to be saying it seriously, rather than as a retort. His condition only worsened, getting heated and blushing, his rapid heartbeat easily felt trembling through his veins. Wait… during the talent show, Burnett had many things that were suspicious. It was true that Rafael had acted more violently than the situation called for, but Flash assumed he didn’t have the context he needed to understand it. Was it something about relationships, seriously?

”R-Rafael wouldn’t-” Flash wanted to refute the claim, but had no frame of reference to call upon. He had no idea what Rafael thought of him, that was part of what made his feelings so confusing. He had decided instead to simply ignore them, having a crush wasn’t going to help him in any way, it was just a confusing mess. ”That is, he and I are-”

His attempt at an explanation was woefully incomplete. He was also babbling. Burnett had one thing right, even though it had been a cool morning, he was feeling altogether too hot all of the sudden. Reticently, Flash started to loosen his grip, widening the space between them. He held onto his torso, lightly gripping his shirt at the sides as if unable to detach completely.

Only a moment ago the touch had felt honestly incredible. He could fathom a guess that it was what he had been looking for all along, in the kiss as well as in Rafael’s kind words. But it was too soon to be able to deconstruct the feeling. Frankly, he had very little experience deconstructing his own feelings. Most of the time, if they weren’t useful to him, he quickly snuffed them out. This one, however, was proving time and again to be unavoidable. The shameful need of being wanted, of belonging. Really, it was nothing but a hindrance, but he needed it to function, it seemed.

Burnett laughed half-heartedly, continuing his line of questioning. A horrid interrogation that Flash had no answer to. How had Burnett come to talk of the two as though they were already an item? It wasn’t some kind of rumor, was it? Or worse, was it something Rafael was saying? Flash’s face contorted briefly into anger as he contemplated his idiotic emotions getting him caught up into the farcical relationship drama that he so often skipped over in the novels he read. His own heart was beating in his ears, more from sheer embarrassment than feelings of childish infatuation.

”D-d-do I… like him?” Flash regretted even trying to answer, his voice belatedly found him and continued to do him no favors by cracking as he said it. The honest truth was that he did, but he didn’t want to have to admit it. He didn’t even know why, besides stupid animal instinct. ”What… what does it matter?”

That was something that had been bothering him ever since that day, how Burnett seemed to have some kind of horse in the race, even though he had no apparent reason to. He had casually tossed aside the idea that Ruka would have easily been able to defend himself from Rafael if he came for him, but said he would ‘make him regret it’ if he ‘played’ with Flash. At the time, Flash had been too caught up in his nervousness and wanting to stop the fight to really analyze everything that was being said. Wasn’t it strange, though? Wasn’t all of this strange?

”Why does it matter who I like or don't like?” Flash was mostly able to recover his voice, and stated his query more clearly, a seriousness returning to his face. ”What does any of that have to do with you?”

Flash shook his head, he wasn't even sure he wanted to know the answer. Surely Burnett would start to say Rafael was like the people he was talking about-- selfish and ignorant. Violent too, and interested in far too many people. It was clear the the two were not in each others' good graces. Flash would do well to learn the specifics of how and why, but that was a delicate process. People could be understood, nurtured, changed. Certainly Rafael's anger and violence came from something within him left unaddressed. If no one tried to do something about it, wouldn't it only get worse?

"I'm not going to the ball with him, if that's what you're trying to get at." Flash managed to calm his voice, but his face was still distressed. "I hope you won't start telling me what I should think of him. I'll figure that out on my own."

@Jack Burnett