The Way I Behaved PV Flash Holmwood Finished

@Flash Holmwood

Not realizing that Flash had meant to tease in order to get Jack back for the first time they had met, the redhead wondered if maybe his behavior had been in retaliation for the amortentia-laced card that Jack had left for him and Hanako in the bathroom at the end of February. They had never discussed the matter in hindsight, after all, and Selim had been very sore about having had the prank pulled on him, so why wouldn't Flash have been?

However, that whole experience on its own had left the Welsh boy so traumatized by the notion of such obsessive love - mostly thanks to Hanako - that he had sworn off messing with amortentia or love potions of any kind.(Well...in amounts strong enough to intoxicate, at least. There was still much to be learned from the unique scent that amortentia gave off to each person who smelled it. Unlike Vlad's scented cards, Jack had discovered that the ones from Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop in Hogsmeade were comparatively harmless and had kept a few to experiment more with them in the future.)

Jack might have thought he knew enough about Flash to know his 'true self' when he was angry or irritated, but there were real enough aspects of him he wasn't aware of - such as a playful side. Thus, he wasn't able to recognize the other boy's motivations for what they actually were, concluding instead that his housemate must have simply enjoyed watching him squirm and making him uncomfortable after all the discomfort Jack had caused Flash.

This imagined reason, though, was something he felt he deserved and could live with; more so than if he'd known the blue-eyed boy was simply teasing him without any intended malice. It was due to his belief that his unease was warranted that kept him from questioning the English boy's true reasoning any further - which would, ironically, have probably caused him more discomfort than he'd recall he had the capacity to feel.

When he thought about it, the redhead realized he actually admired the way his worrisome, cautious, calculating peer before him had, for once, not seemed to have thought of the consequences before acting on a whim. He smiled unconsciously, a few words automatically flying from his lips in a retort.

"Are you finally enjoying yourself a bit?" If it was at Jack's own expense, the Welsh young man thought it a small price to pay and well worth it. "Learning what it means to have a little fun?"

Nearly as soon as he'd mentioned Rafa, however, Jack realized what a mistake it had been. What he'd spoken in his own panic as a means of offensive defense revealed itself to be unsettlingly disruptive to whatever previous peace of mind Flash had possessed. The symptoms assaulting the Welsh boy's body persisted, but were accompanied by entirely different emotions this time.

"R-Rafael wouldn’t- That is, he and I are-"

It wasn't until it was replaced that Jack realized there had been some trace of pleasant excitement in the bundle of feelings previously knotted up in the pit of his stomach. The furrow of his dorm mate's brow and flat-lining of his mouth caused said excitement to evolve into some unfamiliar species of distress. When the English boy started to separate and distance himself from the redhead at last, instead of relief, Jack could only feel that distress tighten his insides. His only lifeline seemed to be his peer's significantly weakened grip on his shirt, and with shaking, warm, damp hands, the redhead reached to clasp his peer's forearms as if he were about to fall over. Perhaps he was; he couldn't tell. He couldn't even tell if his trembling was from too much tension in his body or because everything felt too loose like jelly.

"D-d-do I… like him? What… what does it matter?"

Flash seemed to flounder for words for a time. His fellow Slytherin was incapable of locating any himself, desperately seeking out the right tools to repair the damage done, but ultimately failing. It was all he could do to stay quiet as he waited for the brunet to recompose himself, figuring that trying to help would likely only make things worse if Flash was trying to save face.

Every second that ticked by was painful as Jack listened to him try to patch up his broken sentences and cracking voice. Knowing that it had been his own carelessly-thrown stone that had begun such destructive ripples and yet unable to take it back was nearly unbearable.

"Why does it matter who I like or don't like? What does any of that have to do with you?"

By the time Flash was able to string together complete sentences with the usual, serious voice he generally addressed Jack with, hazel eyes no longer had the strength to remain held by sky blue. The redhead's slick, unsteady grasp at last slipped from Flash's arms completely and the light hold the brunet had on his shirt was tested as Jack sunk back to the ground once again. He sat in a heap of his parts, limp like a puppet without strings, and grinned shakily at the grass visible beneath him. His head drooped, his chin propped against his chest like his neck had been snapped. A slow, quavery breath attempted to restore some life in him.

"Heheh...sorry," came a weary apology, spoken through an audible smile as Jack somewhat waved a limp hand in a half-hearted gesture. "Seems like I'm more tired than I thought. Not used to getting up and going out this early like you are..." The boy then leaned all the way back to lie spread-eagle on the grass, eyes closed and sighing as he did so.

For all the distress that Flash's new responses had conjured up, the redhead realized with much reluctance that fondness, too, had been tangled up in that huge knot of feelings within him. For all his regret, why did he also find it so endearing that his dorm mate had seemed to come undone with just a few thoughtless comments thrown in self-defense? Was it that Jack liked having power over Flash; that in his flusterment, the intelligent, diligent, careful young man came apart so easily? Did he relish in the strength he wielded over now-confirmed weakness?

No, he decided. That wasn't it. Rather...it seemed more like the fact that Flash was allowing himself to behave and be seen in this state - that he hadn't even completely let go when he could have easily just turned and run back inside or down his usual path - that Jack found so charming. In a sense, the half-blood who was otherwise so concerned with maintaining appearances, dignity, respect, and appearing imperturbable had given Jack power over him, whether he knew it or not.

Would Flash have been affected so obviously if he hadn't cared about what Jack thought? Perhaps; perhaps he simply hadn't given a thought to the implied notion until it had come from another's mouth. Still, though...he wasn't denying any feelings for Rafa. He was asking. Asking about why it mattered to Jack, of all people. What Jack thought it had to do with him.

"It matters because we're more susceptible to getting hurt by the people we hold nearest and dearest to us," he answered calmly and clearly, his eyes still closed so as not to betray his inner turmoil. "They don't even have to want or mean to do it; it's just how things are. There's a reason why it's said that one should keep their friends close, but their enemies closer." Jack paused to fold his arms behind his head. "Not only do we become more vulnerable to them in the ease with which they can hurt us; it's also in the depth and intensity of the damage they can do. But...those are emotions for you."

Opening his eyes, he stared up at the sky for a brief second before lurching forward in an attempt to sit himself upright with the resulting momentum. His success was followed by a folding of his legs under him and a tight grip on each knee with each hand.

"I don't know why you're having me tell this to you because I'm pretty sure you already knew all of it. My guess is it's for those reasons that you try to get closer to and indulge others even if - or maybe even because - they won't do the same to you. With them opening up to you like that, you can easily manipulate them to do your bidding; people like Seilun and Anderson. And I'm not saying that's necessarily a bad thing, especially if it's mutually beneficial to you both in some way or other."

He had his doubts that it was equally beneficial, or that the time, effort, and energy Flash put in was worth what he got out of it, but that was besides the point at the moment. "With Rafael, though, the dynamics of your relationship seem to be different."

"I'm not going to the ball with him, if that's what you're trying to get at." Flash told him, the troubled features of his expression mismatching his clear, steady tone. "I hope you won't start telling me what I should think of him. I'll figure that out on my own."

Jack raised his head to properly appraise the flower-scented youth, blinking confusedly. In another instance, he might have laughed at Flash's insinuations, but as his brain tried to follow the thread of thought, he fumbled and dropped it. The idea of the Gryffindor and Slytherin going to the ball together hadn’t even occurred to Jack. Now that it had been brought up, though, despite Flash’s assurance it wouldn’t happen, the concept brought with it an unexpected sting.

Why should it have? It wasn’t as though it was any of Jack’s business who Flash went to the ball with. Nor did it really seem to matter for any special reason; the ball was just a single event spanning no more than an evening. But then why was it being brought up at all in the first place? The Welsh boy shook his head to clear it, retracing his way back to the matter he had initially been trying explain.

"No," Jack corrected his housemate. "I don't tell anyone what they should think of anybody. Just like I don't take anyone else's words for granted when they try to tell me what I should think of anyone else. First-hand experience is all you can rely on when trying to make judgements like that. Only we ourselves can form our own truths based on how we interpret our experiences using our personal ideals and values, so naturally, no two peoples' truths will be the same." He turned to gaze at the horizon. "I just...worry. For both of you."

The redhead ran a hand through his disheveled hair as the first rays of sunlight seemed to catch the tips of it on fire. Then he looked down to run his hand along the damp grass blades, shaking them free of their heavy dew drop burdens. "Believe it or not, I respected D'Spacito once. I even admired him. Initially, I'd played a prank on him to get some unstable Gryffindor girl off my back, sending him a fake love letter from her and having the two meet in the Small Hall so I could watch everything go to shit. Turns out the girl was crazier than I thought." A ladybug clambered atop one of the blades of grass. Drawn to the bright red among all the green, Jack carefully extended a finger to it in an attempt to get it to climb on.

"When she tried to attack me using a spell, the Quidditch jock actually chastised her for it. He went to help her, too, since she knocked herself backward into a wall, so I took the opportunity to make my escape. After that, I wanted to make it up to him because I can't stand owing people, but he didn't make it easy and avoided me every chance he got." The small, spotted insect tested the Slytherin's fingers with its feelers and front legs before eventually making its way onto the foreign landscape of his skin. "Heh...I almost got brained by a bludger once while at the Quidditch pitch when I mistook someone else for him. That was before I knew what bludgers were, of course," he informed Flash hastily, glancing up from his new six-legged acquaintance for an instant to grin before looking back.

"Anyway...when I finally managed to confront him, I told him I wanted to pay him back. Told him he could beat me up if that was what would put him most at ease, but whatever it took, I wanted to return the favor I owed him so we could call things even. Interestingly, after one punch, he asked me if I was going to fight back, presumably attempting to goad me into it. I was pleasantly surprised by this encouragement, thinking it must have had something to do with his Gryffindor chivalry or sense of honor or something like that." Jack shrugged, his grin having completely faded by then. "Maybe he still had some respect for me at the time or was still trying to decide what to make of me. But I haven't really seen any chivalry or honor like that from him since. Not that I'm saying it doesn't exist, but...well, I doubt he'd show that side of himself to me again."

He took a deep breath, holding the ladybug up to his eye-level in order to get a better look at its spots. "Long story short, I told him I didn't fight with fists. So he tried a different tactic on me; one I didn't think him capable of. My underestimation of his ability to use psychological warfare nearly wiped me out that day, but I just barely managed to get one over on him instead. Even then, the price was steep; he discovered a crippling secret of mine. It was a weakness not even my probing dorm mate, Fangs, had discovered yet." Jack unfolded his legs and drew a knee up to his chest, placing his insect guest upon it.

"I wasn't feeling so great by then, either physically or mentally, so I asked the Thunderbird, as he likes to be called, if we could continue my beating at a later date. Ha!" The Welsh boy put one hand to his face, supposedly to shield his eyes from the blinding sunbeams that filtered through the morning clouds, but it was difficult to be sure he wasn't shielding them from more. "And you know what he said? He said 'yeah, I suppose I can allow that.' Which would have been fine. If he hadn't followed it up with, 'But seriously, man, are you okay? Jokes aside, you don't look too good.'"

Hand still cupped over his eyes, the boy snorted as he shook his head. The movement caused the ladybug still on his knee to take flight, leaving the printed foxes on Jack's pajama pants lonely. "That's when I told him. I said I would only tell him once, but that I respected him, which was why I wanted to repay him with a bit of advice. 'All jokes aside,' I said, 'from now on, don't be nice to me. Don't ever show me the least amount of mercy or warmth or concern. Because I promise you, whatever good you think you may be doing now, you'll end up regretting it eventually.'"

Jack threw up his arms and once more lay down on his back, not seeming to mind that he was essentially using his robes as a picnic blanket to lounge upon. He appeared far more interested in the rapidly-changing sky directly overhead. "I also told him to be careful, because he'd always been very open and clear about having a boyfriend to anyone who might have shown interest, including the girl who I faked the love letter from. I warned D'Spacito to make sure his boyfriend didn't take our private interaction on New Years Eve the wrong way. But after a long time of just staring, you know what that cocky bastard said?"

There was a trace of bitterness in his laughter then; maybe a touch of melancholy. "He said, 'yeah, sorry, mate. I still don't owe you anything.'" Jack rolled his eyes. "As if I was warning him for my sake. He said, 'I'll do whatever I damn like. If that means killing you with kindness, you'd better get ready for war.'" The quote was punctuated with yet another irritable laugh.

"He also told me that his boyfriend was 'not what I thought'. That I was the one who should have been praying he never found out. Because, even if he, D'Spacito, had given me a 'free pass' that time, if Gem Stuart found out, well...then he was going to kick my ass in." He closed his eyes and shook his head slowly again. "I should have known then that he hadn't really understood anything about me if he was still thinking I was going to be intimidated by threats of physical harm like that. He hardly even understood anything about himself."

Rolling over onto his side, Jack reached out to pluck the bright yellow flower of a weed. He was fairly certain it was a dandelion, but since they were still on Hogwarts grounds, who could tell for sure? Well...Flash and Willow probably could have. "Despite his comment that I had 'better get ready for war', Thunder Butt never really followed through with his threats. Not the ones I was worried about, at least." He held the flower above him, rolling the stem between his fingers to see it from all angles. "I don't know if he's following my advice from New Years or if he just legitimately hates me. But I've never hated him. I feel too sorry for him." The thought brought a wicked smile to his face. "Hmm...maybe that's why he can't stand me. A prideful guy like that being pitied...but it's not like we can control our emotions." He brought the dandelion blossom to his nose to try to smell it. Its fragrance was faint compared to other flowers, but still present.

"I tried to leave him be out of respect for him and his boyfriend. Said boyfriend - Stuart - ended up being there when Seilun and I had our little 'falling out', though. I'd heard he was a pretty caring guy and he proved the rumors to be true when he tried to comfort me without even knowing me. Heh...I wasn't about to just take that; especially while knowing that he should have hated me. So I made sure he knew he had reason to." Jack idly reached out to strip one of the yellow petals from its stem.

"After that, Thunder Butt could hardly catch a glimpse of me without wanting to try punching my face in. All the honor and chivalry I'd thought I'd seen in him before were no where to be found anymore. One of the reasons I made a jab at Gem Stuart during the talent show was because I was sure that he'd let me know if it was my fault they didn't seem to be together anymore." The Slytherin's forehead creased at the memory. "But it worried me more that he didn't. Not even a word about the boy he had previously spoken so highly of to me before."

There went another petal. And another. There were so many... it seemed as though they would last forever. "I don't know what D'Spacito wants. Not from me or anyone else. I've given him whatever I can think of - attention, self-reflecting comments to think on; even a live punching bag to take hits whenever he needs to relieve his stress or anger without getting him in trouble with the professors. It's never enough for him." There was another. And yet another. The dandelion petals littered the ground and his robes like splattered drops of bright yellow blood.

"Maybe I've been taking the wrong approach all this time, though," Jack conceded, still plucking more petals. "You and I seem to have opposite ways of doing things most of the time. You might be able to get through to him where I've failed. You could potentially be the one to find out what he needs and wants. I've watched you try to do the same for others, but as I mentioned earlier, I think the dynamic this time is different."

He pushed himself up back onto his feet then, still holding the partially-plucked flower in one hand as he used his other to dust his clothes free of its fallen petals. "When you're around people like Seilun and Anderson, you're the one who's there for them," Jack stated matter-of-factly. "When I've seen you with D'Spacito, though, you seem more at ease with relying on him - or, I don't know, at least pretending to rely on him. Whether you do it because you feel comfortable enough to, because you think it's what he wants, or a combination, it seems like the relationship holds merit for both of you." The redhead shook the sad-looking dandelion at Flash like a scolding finger. "But it still worries me. I'm seeing too many similarities between you and Stuart and if I've learned anything from history, it's that the past tends to repeat itself if it's not learned from."

Jack went back to plucking petals. "Don't get me wrong. I think you deserve to have someone to rely on and care about you and look after you more than anyone else with all the attention you shower others with. I just worry because Gem was a lot like you in that he was sweet and kind to everyone. Maybe not for the same reasons, but he was. It's possible that because he was like that to everyone, though, D'Spacito, as his boyfriend, didn't feel special enough to him. Maybe that's why he started to allow his eyes to wander and seek attention and affection elsewhere."

He lifted his gaze to meet Flash's directly for the first time in a while. "You and him may like the attention you give each other when you're alone together, but what about divided between others? Have you seen him interact with his fellow Quidditch players? His Gryffindor fan girls? And has he seen how you dote on Seilun and her whims? Or go on early morning walks to talk with Anderson? Who's to say he wouldn't get madly jealous and upset? You've seen for yourself how temperamental he can be."

The dandelion stem had only three petals remaining. Jack stared at it, sighed, then tossed it over his shoulder before brushing his hands off on one another. "Whatever you may think of me, Flash, I'm on your side. Even if I don't agree with your methods or who you choose to spend your time on, I'll still support you as best I can out of my respect for you as a person. All I ask is that you keep your wits about you and stay sharp, especially around Rafael D'Spacito. The more you like a person, the more reasons there are to fear them. It's just that we usually ignore those reasons in favor of getting swept up in our emotions instead." Jack inclined his head toward Flash, a grave sincerity and deep concern etched into his expression.

"I've told you why it matters who you like or don't like. As to what it has to do with me? Since apparently it didn't get through to you properly the first time, I'll say it again: I care about you. I worry. I want you to be happy and I hope you and that Quidditch jock turn out to be nothing but good for each other. Just...please be careful. I can't ask that enough." He dropped his sight to the little yellow petals now scattered about uselessly at his feet. "I can't quite get a grasp on that lion's moral compass or how he perceives things and it's unnerving. I can't tell if he willfully refuses to see reason sometimes or just...can't."

As Flash had been trying to get to his point, answering Burnett’s uncalled for question with a semblance of an unanswering answer that tried to give nothing away, he hadn’t even noticed Burnett’s increasingly unstable footing. Even with his hands gripped on his arms, he couldn’t differentiate Burnett’s shakiness from his own. It was only after he finally got his last word in that Burnett started caving in, crumpling onto the ground out of Flash’s grip. A bit startled, Flash watched him go down, making some excuse about being tired.

Well, perhaps he was, as Flash had never seen him so dramatically emotive, not even with other people. He was usually expressive, even animated in the way he spoke to people, but it felt like so much more that morning. It was the collapsing in particular which made Flash return to his concern-- why was he cycling through his emotions so quickly? Couldn’t they both just agree to settle on one?

What could he do, with Burnett piled on the grass like a bundle of dirty laundry? The books he read about social interaction didn’t mention anything about people collapsing out of your hands; was he sick? At least some of Flash’s fears were allayed when the fox stretched himself back out, lying in the grass more normally. It didn’t do much to ease Flash’s furrowed brow, looking almost angry at the sudden change in events. It felt like Burnett was trying to hide something, but what was it?

Before he could enter into questioning him, Burnett continued to answer the questions that Flash had posed, his eyes shut. Flash took the opportunity to sit down beside him, his legs were also not as stable as they could have been, and he would be able to hear him better. Like that, he looked out towards the horizon where mountaintops crested with newly budding treetops shimmered in the reflected glow of the sun on the lake. Time was passing, Flash would have been nearly finished with his jog at that point, certainly a few students were stretching and yawning inside the castle, getting themselves ready for breakfast.

Burnett began to ratiocinate on a particularly beloved topic of his. Apparently Flash’s feelings about Rafael were Burnett’s business because he worried getting close to him would cause Flash harm. More harm than if they weren’t close, that was. It was a completely facile argument, one that only made sense to Burnett. Of course, it was true that people you loved had a greater capacity to hurt you, but most people agreed that it was worth it. Another common phrase was ‘better to have loved that lost’, but Flash wasn’t about to say that out loud. He imagined the words would make Burnett retch to hear them.

He opened his eyes, sitting up, but wasn’t making eye contact. It seemed what he had to say needed to be said quickly, before he could be distracted. He alluded to Flash’s methods, mentioning Willow and Opeila in particular, though he seemed to mostly be backtracking. Flash’s relationship with the two of them was incredibly close, both had revealed intimately personal information to him, and wept in his arms. He wasn’t exactly sure what point Burnett had been trying to make about them, the moment he internalized one thing he said, he was still talking on and on about something else. Speaking of common phrases, hadn’t he ever heard that ‘brevity is the soul of wit’?

But then he did get to the point, with Rafael, though, the dynamics of your relationship seem to be different. It made Flash flinch, though Burnett wouldn’t have seen it, he hoped, since he took that moment to look back at him. That much was glaringly true, even to Flash. He hadn’t really intended his and Rafael’s 'relationship' to end up the way it did, he had become distracted. Even before he knew how, he had become something of a victim of infatuation. It made him want to ignore logic, made him blind and silly. Rafael had given him kindness so freely that he had eaten it up without considering the consequences. That he might become attached, that he would grow to crave more. Being humble, Flash had no illusion of being any more than what he was. He had no intention of bothering Rafael with his feelings, every scenario he imagined only ended in tragedy. He simply wasn't ready to be close to someone like that, he wasn't even sure if he ever would be ready.

At least Burnett seemed to agree that first hand accounts were the only thing one could really rely on. Flash could almost be annoyed that the two of them seemed to think so similarly. Ruka’s continual comparison of the two of them had been something he had wanted to outright refute, but despite their personalities being like night and day, their thought process was still the reliable, calculated rotation of the earth. No two peoples’ truths will be the same, he said, making Flash want to scoff.

Then, I worry about you two, which elicited a real scoff, though a quiet one, easily mistaken for a sigh. How many people was Burnett worried about, without being ‘close’ or ‘friendly’, then? No number would really shock Flash, he had thought Burnett was a hypocrite for a while by then. He wondered if he had honestly believed himself. To be fair, Flash didn’t have much room to talk when it came to lying to oneself. He didn’t have an opportunity to retort however, as Burnett began to explain his encounters with Rafael up until that point.

His minor annoyance clearing up with time, he listened intently. This was information he had intended to gather diligently over time through pointed questions and conversations with peers. Instead, Burnett was just laying it all out. Granted, it was his side of the events, but they were events all the same. Flash would need to make sure he memorized the details to reference later and analyse.

It started with a tasteless prank of course, where things went horribly wrong it seemed. Causing misunderstandings and putting himself in a position where he needed to be saved, which Rafael obliged. What Burnett didn’t know was that at that point, Flash could already see where things were going. Of course he was going to make it needlessly complicated and step on as many toes as possible to get there, but it followed that Burnett was going to insist on paying him back, but do so in a way that seemed like he was out to get him. He listened to the story play out, starting to wonder how Burnett honestly saw his own actions.

Flash had felt the same way, when Burnett tried to offer him a favor for his birthday, he was sure he was going to hurt him instead, only to be given a gift of immense value. The next time when he tried to trust Burnett, it was back to being a trap, and a humiliating one at that. If Flash wasn’t the kind of person he was-- one who couldn’t let people stay unknown-- what reason would he have for talking to him at all? Wasn’t the pushing away he was doing the exact reason that he left Rafael so confused and angry, thinking Burnett had a death wish? Even asking Rafael to punch him, didn’t that set a precedent? What Flash was hearing was that Rafael had given Burnett two chances to leave him alone, and he didn’t. He continued to pester him even now, mocking him at the talent show and telling Flash details about his life. What was he after, then? Rafael clearly wanted nothing to do with him.

Burnett idly watched a bug he picked up crawling all over his hand. Something to distract him, no doubt, as he got into the part of the explanation where things had officially gone too far. ‘Psychological warfare’? ‘Got one over on him’? Did he even hear himself talk? Even after that, Rafael was coming out of the story looking like the good guy, even having punched Burnett, having found out some horrible secret. Wouldn’t neither of those things have happened if it weren’t for Burnett himself? If he was so messed up emotionally and needed to feel like he didn’t owe him, wasn’t there anything else he could have done, or did he somehow still feel like a victim because he ended up getting hurt?

Covering his eyes, Burnett said he told him to never show him any kindness, mercy, warmth, or concern. The way he said it was concerning in and of itself. What kind of person doesn’t want those kinds of things, how backwards was Burnett’s thinking really? Not only that, but didn’t that mean Rafael was giving him exactly what he had asked for? What was this story supposed to be revealing about Rafael’s character that Flash was supposed to be being warned about? Wasn’t it a story about how broken Burnett’s point-of-view was?

Laughing bitterly and returning to lying on the grass, Burnett stared listlessly at the sky while he went on. He completed the name he had mentioned in passing backstage: Gem Stuart. Rafael’s boyfriend, it seemed, which did little to stir Flash’s emotional state. Didn’t that only make it more clear that he and Rafael had nothing going on between them, then? That Flash was nobody to Rafael? The longer the diatribe went on, the less Flash could tell what point Burnett was trying to make. Wasn’t he trying to show the ways in which Rafael could hurt him? Flash would never find himself in the kinds of situations Burnett would. For one, he didn’t go around telling people to punch him and be cruel to him. From Flash’s perspective, Rafael had only ever been a sweetheart to him, and he didn’t expect to be doing anything to make him suddenly revile him, so wouldn’t he only continue to be kind?

Plucking absentmindedly at a dandelion, Burnett smiled to himself, talking about feeling sorry for Rafael, about hurting his pride. So, he didn’t find anything wrong with that either. Flash could feel himself growing a frown. He ‘let him be’ after that, did he? After he reminded Flash of his ‘situation’ with Opeila, and then a continuing situation with Gem, and ‘giving him a reason’ to hate him, he couldn’t help but wonder if this wasn’t some kind of confession for him. What he did to Gem to make him hate him… was the reason Rafael wanted to hurt him? But, wasn’t that just the consequences of continually antagonizing the two? Of continually antagonizing everyone?

Then the kicker, Burnett said he had ‘given’ Rafael what he thought he wanted. Perhaps he was just terrible at recounting his previous actions, but it sounded more to Flash like all he had ‘given’ Rafael was a hard time. Trying to piece together the sequence of events, the intention, the context, it all made it seem like Rafael was trying to get Burnett to leave him alone. Why was he insisting on shoving himself into Rafael’s life anyway? For that matter, wasn’t he shoving himself into Flash’s life? Why?

Standing up, Flash was quick to follow suit, a blank gaze returned, but the frown stayed put. He was still talking. Still talking… About approaches, about getting through to him, about Gem… What exactly did he think Flash’s feelings for Rafael were? They simply… enjoyed each others’ company. Flash didn’t have a savior complex, he was just trying to make the world a better place, with acts of kindness and understanding. Wait, does Burnett have a savior complex? Wouldn’t that be… fitting… Burnett started to wax on about Rafael and his relationship. We don’t have a relationship… why do you keep talking about it like we do…?

Burnett shaking his stupid dilapidated dandelion in Flash’s face gave cause for the annoyance building inside of him to be heard across his body language. Rigid, he crossed his arms and impatiently tapped with one finger. Burnett continued to pluck, pace, and pother about. Insinuating he knew why Rafael and Gem might have grown apart, though being no close acquaintance to either. How Flash would end up just the same, even though the two had barely had the chance to spend time with each other, let alone start a first year romance. Threatening that Rafael’s jealousy would be triggered by seeing Flash with others, or that he might become violent as a result, when Rafael’s ire only ever seemed directed at people who were making his life harder. Then trying to say he was on his side and to keep his wits about him. What a load of horseshit.

”Are you serious…?” Flash could barely believe what he was hearing. His voice was low, the distaste palpable. ”You think what you just said makes any sense at all? Is this some kind of ploy to make yourself look bad?”

Flash huffed, feeling that wasn’t the case. If his stories had any truth to them, the attempt would have been a lot more messy and painful. Was he honestly trying to connect with Flash on this?

”Do you realize how bad you come off in that narrative? Do you even hear yourself?” Not able to hold his tongue, the questions he had been asking himself started to unravel in front of him. ”So, you’re saying Rafael had only ever been kind to you. Despite playing with his emotions, despite being asked to leave him alone, he continued to treat you with decency. He did as you asked, even warned you not to make things worse, but you ignored his feelings completely. I suppose it didn’t matter to you whether he didn’t want his favor repaid. Your feelings were more important, weren't they?”

Flash’s vexed expression waned for a moment, realizing he was letting his anger get the better of him. He knew flinging pointed accusations wasn’t going to get a point across, it was just the flames that sparked from being doused in fuel. He took a few calm breaths, he didn’t want his words to be lost in a forest of insults.

”So you think he’s done something wrong? He’s no longer showing you any kindness or mercy… isn’t he still treating you with decency then, still giving you exactly what you wanted?” Feeling a bit restless, Flash started walking in a slow circle around Burnett as he talked, vaguely keeping eye contact as he was able. ”What was I supposed to extrapolate from all of this exactly? That Rafael doesn’t like being toyed with? Because you could say the same about most people, you know. Haven’t you noticed, isn’t that why you do it?”

”I suppose it’s news to you that Rafael and I are not as close as you seem to think we are. We’re practically strangers, we really only have one thing in common, and we rarely get a moment to speak. Perhaps the fact that we are so kind to each other has confused you. For most people, being friendly is normal.” Ah, still a bit caustic. All he could do was temper it as best he could, with the words from his mouth shifting from adante to accelerando. ”You say you can’t understand him? Are you sure you’ve really tried to, or have you just been trying to see how he fits into your life?”

Flash sighed. He didn’t like being angry. He’d have rather received Burnett’s useless monologue in written form so he could spend the time to properly refute all of Burnett’s nonsense in bright red ink. He might even need another document to hold his footnotes and sources for just how wrong everything he was saying was. Where could he even begin?

Did Flash have to question everything Burnett had said up until that point? Was he wrong about Flash too? Well, he didn’t want to break into that tangled mess as of yet. Perhaps it wasn’t a question of Burnett’s intelligence, but of a fractured world view that didn’t support logical thought. He was a human like everyone else, and still a child no less. Wasn’t he just being stupid?

”As for caring about me… I’m starting to see a trend. I might not know much about Selim, but he’s not a well-adjusted child by any stretch of the imagination. Something makes him different and broken, right? Just like Ruka. Just like me?” Flash finally stopped in his tracks, putting his hand to his chin thoughtfully. ”Perhaps you’re making me out to be a lot more pathetic than I really am. A poor lonely boy with no one to hug… what a sad story. If only someone was around to tell me how to take better care of myself.”

”So you support me, then? Respect me? What have I done that’s so respectable if you’re saying my friends take advantage of me in the same breath?” Flash shot Burnett one last icy glare, one that insisted he better have some answers. ”Is it because of how nicely I’m fitting into your picture? Because you want to save me from my horrible fate? Is that the only way you have left to feel good about yourself since you started pushing people away?”

@Jack Burnett

@Flash Holmwood

"Are you serious…?"

When Flash made his response to Jack's rambling story and speculated opinions, the redheaded Slytherin had to keep his features very rigid in order to restrain the inward, wicked grin that would have otherwise threatened to devour his face.

"You think what you just said makes any sense at all? Is this some kind of ploy to make yourself look bad?"

Well, would you look at that, he thought, silently watching the other boy's micro-expressions, gestures, and breathing patterns as the brunet reflected back what he had gotten out of his dorm mate's narrative. Another rare mind that isn't entirely opposed or oblivious to thinking critically. Now, if only you would consider for a moment that the possible answer to your question could be 'yes'...maybe you'd manage to take a step on the right track. Flash's non-verbal cues suggested he wasn't readily willing to do anything of the sort anytime soon, though; at least not of his own volition.

Jack stood there, crossing his arms loosely over his chest as he listened to his peer ask his questions and make his retorts, mentally committing them to memory as they were spoken aloud. They were the frames that made up the movie of what Flash believed Jack had been trying to tell him. Through the scope of what he perceived as the brunet's still-limited perspective, there was only so much he would be able to glean from the messages the redhead had been trying to send.

How much, then, would he pick up on before realizing this wasn't a film that could be understood completely when only played back in the typical fashion? Was there any chance he would independently conceive of the notion that perhaps the true message was on the reverse side of that film strip? And, if so, how to play and process that version so that its own story made sense?

Well, the hopes weren't all that high; they'd only just started really getting to know each other, after all, and Ruka was the only one who had ever gotten so close on his first try. As similar as Jack and Flash were, they were still on opposite sides of the coin, so to see the other's perspective would have meant accepting that one's own reality was not the only true version in existence. He had hinted as much when mentioning that no two people's truths were the same, but to have applied such a vague notion critically to what might have seemed like an entirely separate subject to Flash might have been asking a bit much.

In the Welsh boy's opinion, the English boy was still only seeing the trees he'd been directed to, not the forest they made up. And sure, Jack could have dropped more hints or even just downright laid it out for him, but Flash would learn nothing from that. Furthermore, the redheaded Slytherin was of the opinion that if certain knowledge wasn't earned, it wasn't deserved, so he had no intention of simply serving everything up to the other boy on a silver platter.

If Flash grew prematurely tired of Jack's games, he was more than welcome to stop playing at any time. Perhaps he would come to believe that any rewards he reaped as a result wouldn't have been worth the effort he put in. Or, perhaps, that there ultimately may not have been any point to playing the game to begin with. However, Jack had faith in the other boy. He saw in him an intellect that wished to be tested; a chance to prove that he had value as a person - both to others and himself.

There was also that boundless curiosity they seemed to share - both for others and how they worked, so could Flash really turn his back on that? Confusing as the twisting maze Jack had created turned out to be, if the blue-eyed boy had the patience to play along with and feed the egos of mindless sheep such as certain other students he could name, why wouldn't he care to undergo a more fascinating trial?

Yes, it was still entirely possible that the other snake would lose interest long before he managed to get much more of a grasp on Jack's own method of operation. If that happened, though, that would have only served to weed him out as part of the majority of morons populating the Earth that the redhead refused to waste time on. Given that they were so completely contrary to each other and simultaneously so similar, however, Jack had a good feeling about the brunet. The fact that he had come this far already, trying to deduce the other boy's reasoning despite his lack of proof that his dorm mate had any method to his apparent madness whatsoever was promising in itself.

Surely Flash knew by now how alike they both were than to simply assume his fellow Slytherin's seemingly ludicrous behavior was intentionally nonsensical. As frustrated as the English boy was so evidently getting, however, and as much as Jack admired his progress so far, he wasn't about to just complete the rest of the puzzle for him. Particularly not while this was such an opportune learning experience for Jack to find out more about Flash and how he worked as well.

The redhead eventually realized that a small smile had slipped onto his lips sometime during the course of his peer's gradual circle around him. He allowed it to remain as he at last took the time to reply.

"Since when did I say that you and D'Spacito were close?" he asked, smiling but not laughing so as not to give Flash reason to think he wasn't taking this seriously. "A relationship is a relationship, regardless of whether it's between strangers, acquaintances, family, friends, or enemies. In that vein, I think you're making quite a few assumptions here that are messing with your ability to piece things together logically, so let me help you out a bit.

"For one thing, kindness does not equate to friendliness. One does not have to be unkind to someone in order to exploit them, for example...but would you call that relationship a bond between friends?" His hazel gaze attempted to reach for blue as he said this, hoping to drive home its importance - to maybe allow Flash a chance to attribute the concept to some part or parts of how he did things.

"Another thing - you seem to be viewing everything in either black or white. 'Kindness and friendliness are good and therefore things to be sought out', while 'anger and hostility are bad and therefore things to be avoided'. But did you ever consider that there could be situations in which those attributions could be unclear and blurred? Or even, dare I say, reversed?"

Rather than irk, enrage, or alarm him, Flash's irritable attitude seemed to put Jack at ease as compared to when he had been trapped in their embrace. It was as if he felt least threatened when he knew he was the cause of Flash's discomfort rather than the one comforting him. His confidence seemed to return to him in spades, but along with it, so did a certain air of melancholy. This frequent alternating between them of their states of mind exemplified to Jack the delicate balance of power between him and Flash. Whether the other boy was aware of it or not, he wasn't sure, but he intended to make use of it while he still thought he had the advantage.

"Something else to consider: the devil is in the details. I didn't specifically say that I couldn't understand him. I said I couldn't quite get a grasp on his moral compass or how he perceives things. That translates to an admission that I haven't yet figured out a certain aspect of him; in this case, his sense of morals. To a well-trained ear, though, turning the statement inside out and looking at the negative space rather than the positive space..."

He paused, wondering if he was getting too abstract in his terminology for Flash to follow. "In other words...if I remove what I said I couldn't do from the statement, it would leave behind what I did do. Namely, to try to see things from his point of view; to attempt to put myself in his shoes in order to perceive things the way he does. Which, if you had paid close enough attention, would have saved you the time and trouble of asking me if I'm sure I really tried to understand him."

His eyes narrowed at Flash then; not rancorously, but with scrutiny, as though attempting to see if the other first year was following his meaning. "In that particular aspect - trying to see how people fit into one's life - I'm not like you. And I can say this definitively because unlike you, I don't have the urge to rely on others being in my life in order to feel like I have worth. I don't need people to like me." His tone carried an unspoken challenge to Flash, daring him to deny Jack's implications if he thought he had any room to do so.

He looked away from those sky blue eyes again when the brunet continued on. Jack stared straight ahead unseeingly as he endured the other boy's biting accusations, appearing to zone out, but internally feeling every word blast through his weakest walls like cannon fire. It was another unanticipated blow - the use of Selim and Ruka as secret weapons to attack his greatest insecurities. Even so, Jack couldn't help but be impressed by and respect the technique.

It was like a new method of torture that he found so refreshing in its novelty that he didn't bother resisting the first wave of onslaught. It had been quite a while since anyone had even managed to even make a dent against his fortified stronghold, so there was something strangely satisfying in the success of the enemy attack. Jack continued to stand there silently for a moment, relishing the defeat like one relished the pain of a wound they were proud to have survived. Then he threw back his head and laughed with a resonating, vibrant sound.

"You are a lot more pathetic than you think you are," he told Flash once he had reclaimed enough air to speak. "The irony is that it's because you refuse to even consider yourself in that light that you're pathetic. Instead, you project, taking pity on others to avoid pitying yourself. Because - ha! - heaven forbid you ever be knowingly selfish enough to do that."

With a shit-eating grin, he reached out to pinch Flash's cheek once his dorm mate turned his way to fix him with his chilling glare. "No one can save you from whatever fate you fear but you, Flash," Jack answered with a peculiar fondness blended into his derision. "I do support you, yes. But I'm betting you're making the mistake of assuming I mean to do so in a way you will immediately see the sense in to appreciate or approve of."

There was something almost nefarious about the gleam in his eyes as he stared his peer down. "And, once again, you're forgetting that your perspective of the world isn't the only one that exists. Not everyone has a picture they want to nicely fit others into. And not everyone's objective is to feel good about themselves." He inclined his head with an almost affectionate look. "As for why I respect you? Well...you've stayed this long to hear me out, haven't you? To question my reasoning, poke holes in my logic, and to try to make sense of what I'm attempting to convey to you regardless of how it clearly exasperates you so?"

Jack spread his arms to either side. "When we first met, you were so eager to believe I was just spouting whatever I thought might annoy you just for my own entertainment. You couldn't wait to be done with me as soon as possible and hoped never to see or associate with me again. I'm sure you hated to let anyone see you in so flustered a state with such a lack of composure. But now...?" He took a step back to make an elaborate gesture indicating the entirety of Flash.

"Look at how far you've come since; how you've opened your mind and broadened your horizons. I'd say that effort to better yourself, that willingness to change your views whether you're aware of it or not, is worthy of respect on its own. Wouldn't you?"

He hesitated a moment, thinking about something Flash had said earlier. "You said...that I said...that your friends take advantage of you. So, setting aside the many inaccuracies of that statement, now I'm curious to know - who are the people who you consider your friends? And what is it, exactly, that defines them as such?"

As Flash spoke, Burnett stood mostly still, his arms crossed and his face unmoving besides the occasional muscle spasm. Nothing that could be noticed while pacing as Flash was doing. What was easy to see was the eventual smile that crept across his face. What, was he enjoying this? He hadn’t said anything worth smiling about, he didn’t think. He was trying to be diplomatic, but had failed to pull back when his annoyance welled up inside of him. He would have thought Burnett’s impish smile would have annoyed him more than anything, but instead he felt a slight sense of relief. I haven’t made him angry... Even when he was frustrated, he didn’t want to hurt anyone. Perhaps it was a mixed signal, like someone smiling when they are scared, but seeing as Burnett sought out negative encounters, perhaps he had no reason to think he wouldn’t be smiling anyway.

Burnett said he never said the two were close, nitpicking at specific word usage just like Ruka loved to do. Flash had a good memory, but it wasn’t like he could perfectly remember everything that was said with utmost clarity. He thought for sure that Burnett had said something about the people closest to you being able to hurt you the most. Was that kind of niggling about details really getting anyone closer to the heart of their words? Perhaps Burnett was obsessed with being understood in a particular fashion, after all he always seemed upset whenever Flash paraphrased or assumed things.

”What did you say… ‘near and dear’ I think… maybe you were talking about yourself and not Rafael then?” Flash swatted away at what must have been a gnat near his face as the warmer weather and shining sun brought with it the insects of the season. ”What exactly am I supposed to be ‘piecing together’? Your opinion?”

Burnett drolled on about kindness and friendship. While Flash’s attention grew sharper, realizing his powers of memorization were on trial, he no longer felt the need to wait for Burnett to finish to get a word in. After all, he would use the time to go on endlessly if he wasn’t stopped from time to time.

”I know you don’t have to be unkind to exploit people… are you trying to be cute?” Flash pulled his mouth to one side in a lazy sneer. Certainly Burnett knew this was the exact tactic that Flash used all the time. Either he wanted Flash to admit it out loud, or he thought Flash was doing it completely unintentionally. ”I would go so far to say that earning someone’s trust is the most effective way of exploiting them. You don’t even have to mean to do it either, do you?”

"Another thing - you seem to be viewing everything in either black or white.”

Flash let out a small groan. Now Burnett was explaining how sometimes being hostile was the good thing, being kind was the bad. A simple conclusion to come to, to anyone who's ever read a book before. Humans are complicated, and things are never quite as simple as anyone would like them to be. No, Flash had to remember the age group he was dealing with. Burnett likely didn’t have very many people who considered the nuance of good and bad at their age, though hadn’t he only moments earlier proven that Flash was capable of this gray thought when talking about Willow?

”I might be offended if I didn’t think you were pulling my leg.”

He wondered what Burnett was getting at. The boy who seemed to have pulled into himself earlier, fidgeting with bugs and flowers, was now animatedly talking as if gasoline had been poured on a fire inside of him. The dissonance gave Flash reason to pull in a bit himself, grabbing his own arms and squinting. Not quite looking at anything, just paying attention. He knew this game, it was the one where poked and prodded by using language he knew would hit a sore spot. Before, Flash shut it out completely, and while effective, it wouldn’t get Flash what he wanted anymore. He had more leverage now, so he didn’t have to hide and save face.

Burnett picked at Flash’s use of the word ‘understand’ rather than reiterating Burnett’s exact words. He had intentionally consolidated it into one word that he thought fit. While he could admit that Burnett’s description was one that had intention in its phrasing, he still wasn’t convinced the word ‘understand’ was completely wrong. All he had to go on that Burnett was ‘putting himself in his shoes’ was his word. The story certainly didn’t show this ‘negative space’ in its depiction. What, was he trying to goad Flash into misunderstanding, or covering his tracks by slipping in excuses where there were gaps in his argument? Perhaps he thought Flash would fill in the gaps himself, though that seemed like an entirely wasteful means of communication. What reason would he have for using convoluted speech, when it only obfuscated his being understood?

”No… time well spent I think.” Flash denied his accusation of wasting his time. ”I don’t think I would have learned quite as much had I not. After all, you seem so fond of leaving things out.”

Burnett’s look into his eyes brought Flash back to the present, his thoughtful look morphing more into one of mild surprise. He had to be honest with himself, he wasn’t sure what Burnett seemed to want to impart with what he was saying. His look said ‘listen to me carefully’, but his words said ‘I’m a prick’. Flash already knew Burnett didn’t feel the ‘urge to rely on others’, as he put it. Flash felt a bit lost, he was sure that he had shown plenty of proof that he recognized at least that much about Burnett already, but then what was the ‘negative’ of that? Relying on himself, relying on non attachment? It’s not like I’m trying to convert him. In fact, it feels like the other way around.

”How nice for you, Daedalus.” Flash’s reply to his imploring look was a sarcastic comment.

After Flash had said his piece, Burnett switched from a stoic stare to a burst of laughter, giving Flash’s heart a bit of a shock, as he raised one hand to touch the spot gently. Burnett crooned about Flash’s patheticness, being sure to drizzle his words with hyperbolic drama. Slowly retrieving his scowl, Burnett gave Flash’s cheek a pinch before he had the chance to unravel his arms and slap his hand away. Pestered, he chased after his retreating hand and smacked at it anyway, like a cat pouncing on a retreating mouse.

Speaking of assumptions, just what kind of fate did he think Flash was fearing? As with Rafael, Flash started to think Burnett was the one who assumed far too much. It was only driven home by the way he described the kind of ‘support’ he was offering. Even only talking about it, Burnett’s face glowed with a kind of beaming feeling of anticipation. As though he expected to be guiding Flash into some kind of trap without his knowing. He returned to the well of insinuating that Flash was narrow-minded, though Burnett would certainly not like him taking his words out of context like that. What are you trying to get out of me? By saying that, he must have known that Flash was able to see things from different perspectives, that was precisely how he interacted with other people to begin with. If he wanted Flash to tell him something, why didn’t he just ask? If there’s a reason, then what is it? He felt like he was missing something.

His face having turned back into one of thoughtfulness as Burnett continued, a small laugh escaped when Burnett brought attention to Flash’s clear exasperation. Then, lauding his 'sticking around'. Was there really anything respectable about that? Perhaps for Burnett it was, at least. He couldn’t help but smile when Burnett started describing their first meeting. He hadn’t dwelled on it too much lately, though it haunted him at the time. Being one of his first attempts at social engineering, it had gone rather badly for him, though it hadn’t been a complete loss. After all, he was right to pick out Burnett in the crowd.

However, the sudden onset of praise after that flustered him. Holding his breath for a moment too long, he felt a sting in his cheeks as blood rushed to them all too suddenly. How far he has come? His efforts to better himself? Hadn’t they all been in vain, hadn’t he still achieved nothing of value? Working on oneself to become better was a given, not a feat.

”It’s merely… optimization.” Flash replied, even though he would have done better to just let it go.

Burnett seemed to change the subject, ready to dig into another slew of words to be picked apart. Flash wasn’t about to just give away as much information as he wanted for free. He didn’t want to offer his friends up to be picked apart either. His relationship to them was also none of Burnett’s business.

”First Rafael, now all of my friends? I think not.” Flash sighed, the aforementioned exasperation weighing on his words. ”I can see your perspective, a bit. You say ‘not everyone’s objective is to feel good about themselves’, I’d say that’s interesting. ‘I don’t need people to like me’...”

Flash tapped on his chin as he mumbled to himself, crescendoing to a yawn. Ah, right, it was time for breakfast. Had the time really gone by so quickly? At least his mind had got some exercise running around Burnett’s stupid labyrinth. Flash brought his hand up to cover his mouth, feeling a bit sheepish for letting his composure get away from him completely. It wasn’t like keeping up a few pretenses wasn’t at least somewhat useful, even with Burnett. After all, wouldn’t Burnett’s feelings change if he acted completely bare with his emotions, like he did with Ruka? He wondered how much of that ‘respect’ would evaporate if he knew how stupid and soft he really was.

He had learned one important thing, at least, besides everything that had yet to get processed and re-processed. This whole inane discussion was a diversion, regardless of what he hoped Flash might be able to salvage from it’s deconstruction. His change in mood was a dead giveaway, as though he had entered his element. It wasn’t too unlike how Flash constructed narratives he felt comfortable with, though it hardly seemed like they were after the same goal.

A bit of a sleepy look on his face, Flash smiled and came closer.

”Actually, as one of my favors, could I have another hug? How many can I ask for, a lifetime supply?”

@Jack Burnett

@Flash Holmwood

Jack sneered softly at Flash's questions, rhetorical or not. Though he decided not to answer the first several, figuring that having drawn attention to those points and encouraging the other boy to think about them was more than enough.

Yes, it was true; he already knew that Flash had previously made it evident that he was aware of such concepts such as exploiting people with kindness and trust along with gray areas of morality. However, Jack liked to get confirmation of this to see how self-aware Flash was regarding said concepts - or, at least, how self-aware he was okay with Jack knowing he was.

"No… time well spent I think." The comment made Jack freeze, tensing, before glancing over to study his housemate. I don’t think I would have learned quite as much had I not. After all, you seem so fond of leaving things out."

Uh oh. Another smile, this one sardonic, curved his lips. Am I...in trouble...?

Being referred to as 'Daedalus' earned a chuckle out of the redhead, though perhaps not for the reason one might have suspected.

"Aren't you just as much a maze-maker as I?" Jack asked gently with a tinge of amusement, though he also made an enthusiastic mental note that Flash was well-versed in the stories of Ancient Greeks. It was good to know those were an option to reference when attempting to clarify a point in the future.

The late reaction of attempting to bat at his hand like a vindictive cat paw only served to charm and delight Jack to a degree he could have never expected, though he was sure that hadn't been Flash's intention in doing so. Perhaps that was part of the reason why; it was so reflexive and candid an action that there was no way it could have been premeditated.

Its futility as a behavior aside from being spontaneous and compulsory (not traits that seemed to be characteristic of the brunet) was likely what attributed it to being so...well, adorable. He almost wanted to catch that hand, but refrained; just barely. The only signs of his captivation were his still-present smile and his dialated pupils as they watched the movement.

Jack continued to enjoy what he guessed was his peer's honest responses when he praised and inevitably flusterd him, observing the transformation of his complexion's hue. What reason had he felt to be flustered, though? Was he simply not used to praise? Didn't his so-called 'friends' like Willow and Opeila praise him all the time? Mmm...upon thinking about it, perhaps they didn't. Even if one cared for, appreciated, and even loved someone else, that didn't mean it was difficult to take them for granted.

And here, not only was Flash apparently unused to knowing how to accept compliments, but he was downright trying to belittle his own qualities. How precious.

"You say 'merely', but again, you give yourself less credit than you deserve. The only thing 'mere' about it is the percentage of the human population who actually exhibit such traits, optimization or not. Maybe it might seem like the most logical solution for a robot, but..." He made a frivolous gesture, waving an arm. "How many other people do you know who would be able to do the same - especially under the stress of being antagonized like you have?"

When the blue-eyed boy refused to name his 'friends', as if Jack was going to make a hitlist and go after each and every one of them, the Welsh kid laughed again. "Fine. I won't ask who they are. But I'd still like to know what causes you to define a person as a friend." He shrugged. "Call it one of the favors I'll ask of you if you must. But I'd really like to know."

Flash's yawn was contagious, causing the redhead to yawn in turn as he rubbed the back of his neck. He actually guffawed mid-yawn when he saw his companion put up a hand to conceal his mouth as he opened it, almost falling over again from the lack of balance that resulted. Cute. Why, though? Like a kitten, maybe. Because he tried so hard to keep up pretenses still...? As if Jack couldn't already see right through him...?

Well, let him continue to think that if it makes him feel better.

That sentiment was withdrawn almost as soon as it was thought, though, because by then, Flash was already making his own new battle strategy known. And Jack didn't like it one bit. Indeed, he was pleased his conversation partner had been able to gain something from their exchange, but...did it have to be that of all things? A weakness?

"Actually, as one of my favors, could I have another hug? How many can I ask for, a lifetime supply?"

Those questions, combined with the apparently drowsy smile that Jack refused to be deceived (but was nevertheless affected) by, abruptly disrupted the scales of the balance between them once again. It seemed Flash was fully aware of it this time as well, testing how he could tip said scales in his favor once more.

Knowing at this point it was too much to try to salvage everything, Jack struggled to, at the very least, equalize the scales again to a certain degree. He traded the jovial nature of his smile for a more steady one and a level tone, re-adopting his more professional demeanor as one might have used for a business transaction.

"You can ask for whatever you like as long as it's reasonable and I have no good argument with which to refuse. However," he warned, "Choose the words you decide upon wisely. Even if not written, anything that's left unspecified may very well be taken advantage of."

It was Jack's turn to pace a bit, back and forth rather than in a circle, in order to calm his steadily-tiring nerves.

"Also...the favors we exchange have to be considered of equal value by both parties involved. So if you're thinking of anything involving a lifetime commitment, you better be prepared to commit right back." He looked toward the tree line, trying to make out any movement along the edge of the canopy where the leaves met the sky.

"I still haven't mentioned the main favor I wanted to ask of you this morning," he reminded Flash. "You can decide later what you think is an equal favor to ask for in return. But how ironic that you mentioned Selim Faust earlier..."

He turned back to the brunet then, his expression grave. "You said there was something you thought that made him 'different and broken'. It's true, but...up until March, he wasn't this bad." Though he tried to hold his dorm mate's gaze, at the very end, Jack found he could not. It dropped back down to the grass instead, and the bright yellow dandelion petals he had strewn about close by.

"Long story short...his paranoia resulting from previous events in his life made him hide from me and the rest of the school early in February. I was worried and had reasons to think he could have been a danger to himself and others if I wasn't around to keep an eye on him, so I sought him out with the help of one of the upperclassman's enchanted maps. When I found him, though, I decided to teach him a lesson - one you probably know well now, thanks to the effects of the second card you and Tone got a whiff of - and...well." He sighed, his shoulders dropping.

"Afterward, he told me he couldn't trust me anymore. If his paranoia had been bad before, it was worse than ever after I'd used that card on him. He claimed I'd rendered him helpless for a day, and even though I assured him I'd stayed close and watched over him for the entirity of those twenty-four hours he was compromised, he said that wasn't the point. Told me that, as someone who valued self-preservation as much as I did, I'd had no right to rob him of his own for any span of time whatsoever.

"Well, I couldn't argue with that. But as contractual partners, it just wouldn't do for us not to be able to trust each other. So I proposed that he be allowed twenty-four hours to do what he wished to me just as I had to him. In exchange, I wanted his trust back."

Jack waved this away as if it all was of little consequence. "That aside, I think I made a bit of a misjudgement on my part. That twenty-four hours ended up affecting him more than it affected me. He trusted me again, yes, but the cost was more than I'd been prepared to deal with. And now...how do I put this? He...hmm." He cast Flash a dry smile.

"...He's made himself a new persona - a 'mask' of sorts that he thinks is what his parents and family want of him. The only problem is that it isn't him; it's more like the robot he thinks they want him to be. And, since personas and masks tailored to suit other people seem to be your specialty...I thought you might be able to help me understand more about it." His eyes narrowed as he placed a clenched fist atop the palm of his other hand. "And, ultimately, break through it. Without causing permanent damage."

To Burnett’s defense of his unnecessary praise, Flash’s embarrassment was able to wane. It seemed the only thing he found respectable about it was its novelty. Doing something few others did was not, in principle, any more impressive than following the crowd. While the majority could be said to be the most boring and predictable path, there were often good reasons for following it. For instance, as Flash has wondered earlier, was it actually wise to involve himself with Burnett anyway? Flash also liked people who defied his expectations, who didn’t follow the formulas, but it wasn’t always a good thing. Well, in the very least Flash was able to tie up the dissonance between the compliment and his own feeling of it not being a praiseworthy achievement. He was dwelling on it too much, Burnett only admired it because so few people had the patience to put up with him.

He then went on to let the thread go about his friends when Flash asked him to drop it. He threatened to use a favor for it later, remarking with vested interest in his answer. Flash didn’t doubt that he would be interested in pulling apart his definitions and performing an autopsy. Frankly, Flash had only just begun to form friendships. He didn’t imagine his definition was prepared for scrutiny. Perhaps Burnett wanted to make a point that his definition was wrong, but it wouldn’t mean anything, really. He was trying to figure it out, he didn’t have any honestly strong opinions on friendship and what it meant. He just wanted companionship, to not be alone. Burnett did as well, it seemed, though the word ‘friendship’ seemed to mean a great deal to him. If Flash ever agreed to speak about it, it would be to find out where that standpoint came from. A bad experience with friendship, no doubt.

Flash’s yawn caught on, as yawns are wont to do, but the action elicited a loud laugh from Burnett as well. Flash’s question about the favors had a sobering effect, however. It seemed affection was an extremely sore subject for him. It of course had been said to change the subject and get a reaction, but it wasn’t one that Flash took joy in this time around. It wasn’t a fun reaction anyway, he just seemed genuinely unnerved whenever it was mentioned. After the embrace they shared earlier, he wondered what was different, what he had done wrong. Joking about it, perhaps. Bringing attention to it. Whatever it was, Flash wanted to figure it out, he wanted more hugs like that one.

He gave a dry answer, saying he ought to pick his words carefully if he doesn’t want them misconstrued. Ah, unkind, like I thought. Flash didn’t want to argue over such little things, he expected the favors to be liable to return to hurt him if he wasn’t careful. Burnett’s assurance that they were ‘negociable’ had done little to assude Flash’s fear of them. He said they would only be binding once they came to a mutual agreement, but who was to say how much Burnett would be expecting Flash to say the wrong thing, so that his words could be used against him?

Even ‘equal in value’ had varied meanings, since value was so often personal. Flash didn’t like the system, honestly. Doing things while expecting nothing in return was so much simpler. Not only was it simple, but the return could even dwarf the commitment if done correctly. Flash was still only in the early stages of forming a reputation, and perhaps he had let people walk all over him to get where he was, but the goal was a different position, one where people were falling over themselves to be helpful to him. One where people were on his side without having to be asked, committed without a contract. Where they thought being devoted to him was their own choice.

It was imbalanced now, with Flash taking on more than perhaps someone his age should ever expect to, but he knew it could work. Not just work, but he could flourish. Unequal as it might seem at the moment, if he was able to keep it up for a few years, who knew how massive the return would be? Flash knew. He had seen it happen to Valerius. The power he had over people was incredible.

That was when Burnett got into the meat of the conversation. The favors. Flash’s face became more alert and serious as he started to describe it, mentioning Selim Faust once again. He said things got worse around March, though Flash hadn’t been paying enough attention to have really noticed. Selim kept to himself, and Flash never lingered in the dorm rooms for longer than he had to, so he rarely ever saw him. It was only after his first meeting with Burnett when he called him ‘contractual partner Fangs’ that he started to take note of him at all. Granted, it took until the spider attacks to know for sure who he had been referencing, but that was about around March anyway. It would seem Flash had no idea just how different he had become, in that case.

Paranoia… danger to himself and others… helpless… compromised… self-preservation… Burnett started to explain part of his relationship with Selim, one where he lost his trust and tried to gain it back. He waved off the explanation of what he did to try to earn it back. All he said was that he let Selim ‘do what he wished’ with him, and that it affected Selim more than it affected Burnett. What a seemingly important bit of information to exclude. Perhaps it was something personal he didn’t want to rob Selim of the consent of revealing. What worried Flash more was why Burnett was telling him this.

Burnett did get to the point, saying Selim had created a mask for himself to hide behind, and he thought Flash could help him understand it, whatever that meant, and break through it. What a tall order, did he honestly think Flash was capable of such a feat, or was he only trying to make fun of him? He was smiling with his mouth, but his eyes were narrowed and, what… distressed? Flash’s own face went through a few motions, at first paying close attention to the phrasing of the words Burnett used, then worry, then back to thoughtfulness, looking down and to the right, considering his feelings on this abnormal favor.

”I suppose you’re asking me because talking to a therapist is out of the question…?” Flash’s voice was dull, edging on sarcastic. He would like to think Burnett wouldn’t go around looking for a 12-year-old to solve this problem instead of someone actually qualified. Still, he had to ask. ”Even then, what kind of expert am I really… do you honestly think I could be of any use…?”

It wasn’t as if not knowing Selim made Flash any less likely to want to help. In fact, helping people with their problems was his modus operandi, he only just had to know that help was needed, and have his help be accepted. His instinct would be to accept on principle, even if he didn’t know what use Selim could potentially be to him. Being a savior was often satisfying in its own right, even despite the effort it took. Still, the words Burnett used were frightfully dire. It seemed, even without knowing the whole scope, to be serious. Putting himself into a situation where his failure could potentially make things a lot worse was undesirable, regardless of the benefit to him in the end. He never wanted to be the cause for someone’s suffering, if he could avoid it.

Still, it wasn’t a casual choice to intervene or not, he was being directly asked. Not only that, but under the pretense that he would be immediately given the chance to ask for something of equal value in return, not a vague sense of being the good guy and adding to his reputation. He didn’t know enough about the situation to know what he would be getting himself into.

”That’s hardly enough information to agree outright. I suppose this is the negotiation part. If all you want is for Selim and I to have a conversation, that isn’t much of an imposition. I would ask that you do all the work of introducing the idea to him. I would want it to be… well, comfortable for him. Talking to a stranger is already not great. I would think I would have to know him better to really understand.” Flash shook his head as he talked, the idea only sounding more ridiculous the more he entertained it. ”So many unknowns… you say he’s a danger to himself and others at times, what does that mean? Shouldn’t I know what I’m getting into?”

It would be easy to see that the idea intrigued him at least. It was almost as if he had already agreed. If the stage was set correctly, a conversation was not a problem to Flash. In fact, he was curious now.

”We can discuss the particulars. Over breakfast, perhaps?” Flash’s hand gently gestured towards the Great Hall, now clamoring with the echoing sounds of activity.

@Jack Burnett

@Flash Holmwood

"I suppose you’re asking me because talking to a therapist is out of the question…?"

The words themselves might have been enough to discourage Jack due to the implied feelings behind them, but the tone of the voice they were spoken with only served to make that certain. What remained of his dry smile smoothed out simultaneously with his narrowed eyes and other features so that his transformed countenance became almost unreadable. The only reason why Flash might have been able to recognize it for what it was would have been because he might have remembered wearing that same look himself; mute, enduring, and accepting of his fate.

"Even then, what kind of expert am I really… do you honestly think I could be of any use…?"

It was a few minutes before Jack turned his head away and appeared to speak to the horizon instead. "I thought so," he answered blandly. "Or else I wouldn't have mentioned the situation to you at all in the first place, much less asked if you might try to help me."

He seemed to shut down then, giving little to no indication he was still listening to Flash even as the taller Slytherin continued to speak. Instead, he bent down to pick up a stone from the ground and fling it as hard as he could into the distance ahead. His eyes watched the arch of its trajectory, following it as it hit the ground before reaching down to pick up a new stone. It wasn't until Flash had finished speaking entirely, suggesting that the pair of them discuss particulars over breakfast, that Jack opened his mouth to speak again. Even then, he wouldn't look back to meet Flash's gaze.

"I don't recall ever asking you to have a conversation with him," he answered in a near monotone manner. "But you're right. It was silly of me to ask you for help with fixing him when you don't even know him." Another stone flew from the tips of his fingers, catapulted even farther than its predecessor. "I'm sorry I've held you up for so long. Please don't worry about what I asked of you. I'll figure it out somehow on my own."

Still keeping his back to Flash, he held up a hand briefly as if in farewell...or dismissal. "Feel free to go in without me. I'd hate to keep you from breakfast." That said, he took a few more steps away from the path to wander a little closer to the edge of the forest, continuing the song he had sung before from the last line he'd left off at. It seemed there was one more verse to the song he had kept himself from singing aloud before.

Click to Listen for Melody

"...At last came a lady
both knowing and tender,
saying, 'You're not at all
what they take you to be.'

I betrayed her before
she had quite finished speaking,
as she swallowed cold poison
and jumped in the sea.

And I say to myself,
when there's time for a word,
as I gracefully grow
more debauched and depraved;

'Ah, love may be strong,
but a habit is stronger
and I knew when I loved
by the way I behaved.'"

Burnett acted strange in response. Perhaps Flash had said something wrong, though he wasn’t sure what had changed. Perhaps it was about Selim, about how and why he was the way he was. Flash couldn’t know, he knew next to nothing about the pale, quiet boy. Whatever it was, Burnett got extremely quiet and his answers became short and humorless. Flash didn’t like it. There was something he didn’t know, and it was causing a disconnect. Well, perhaps it was a fight for another day. They had already endured a lot of emotional struggle in just the short time Flash would normally spend jogging for daily exercise. How was he going to account for that anyway… his head was certainly more jumbled than clear.

He seemed almost… insulted. Even throwing rocks. Was it bringing up therapy? Implying Flash wasn’t qualified to help? Perhaps the idea that Selim was… beyond the help that Burnett could give him? Well, it wasn’t something Flash was going to discover on that day. Burnett was flinging rocks and looking out into the distance despondently. He was closing off. One rock after another, Burnett took back everything he said, saying it was foolish to ask, and that Flash misunderstood him to begin with. What a change.

He waved, leaving with no smile on his face as Flash waved back defeatedly to watch him go. A strange interaction, hard to know if it was good that it happened or not. Burnett had opened up, talked to him, hugged him, but he was also all over the place. Perhaps it had been extremely hard for Burnett to talk like he did, but it had been some sort of distress. A need? Flash wasn’t solidly sure of anything he had discovered that morning. Well, it didn’t feel bad. It was good… the things he said were… well… perhaps he needed to run after all. It was late, but if he did uphill and fast pace, he could get the effect of a longer trek and feel the satisfying pulse of exertion. For food he could just grab something off the tables and eat it on the way to class.

He needed to clear his head. Too many labyrinths.

Thread Finished

@Jack Burnett