The Endless Writings
Jasmine entered the library, books in hand. she went over to the desk all the way at the end. She sat down, giving her a perfect view of everything—of course she wasn't planning to stalk anyone, she wanted the perfect view of the library so she could easily navigate everything.
She placed her books down with a heavy sigh. SHe got comfortable, before opening her charms textbook. She flipped and flipped and flipped through pages. Then, finally, she wrote something down in her journal. She was scribbling something, making sure no one could see what it was about. Jasmine's quill glided across quickly making scratching noises on the table. she looked up, not at people, but at the endless bookshelves that felt like a maze to her. The library felt alive in a very strange way, as if it were people.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before leaning in closer to her journal. She closed her textbook, opening a new one with a sigh. The book she had picked out was oh so very dusty. She opened it and dust debris started to fly. Between tiny notes about charm theories, was a story in process. The quill kept going. Jasmine couldn't stop the ideas from flowing out onto the parchment. Constellations, floating castles, spells. A girl who could speak to stars.
Anyone peaking over her shoulder would probably just think it was messy homework.
She placed her books down with a heavy sigh. SHe got comfortable, before opening her charms textbook. She flipped and flipped and flipped through pages. Then, finally, she wrote something down in her journal. She was scribbling something, making sure no one could see what it was about. Jasmine's quill glided across quickly making scratching noises on the table. she looked up, not at people, but at the endless bookshelves that felt like a maze to her. The library felt alive in a very strange way, as if it were people.
She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear before leaning in closer to her journal. She closed her textbook, opening a new one with a sigh. The book she had picked out was oh so very dusty. She opened it and dust debris started to fly. Between tiny notes about charm theories, was a story in process. The quill kept going. Jasmine couldn't stop the ideas from flowing out onto the parchment. Constellations, floating castles, spells. A girl who could speak to stars.
Anyone peaking over her shoulder would probably just think it was messy homework.
“The stars above Hogwarts always seemed brighter, as though magic itself had reached up and touched the sky.”