Secrets and Letters PV Ross Stephens Finished

It had felt like hours since Ross had been in the owlery, though it could not have possibly been even been thirty minutes. It was not as if he could check. Without a watch, all he could do was make a rough estimate by counting the seconds in his own head, though each time he began counting he seemed to need to start over again.

"One, two, three.. four.. five... six.." he mumbled as the spaces between numbers got further and further apart.

While Ross found himself a morning person, he had woken up far too early even for him. Nobody else in his dorm had been awake, so he had done the only 'logical' thing in his mind and traveled across the grounds to the place where owls flew and messages came. Every morning, Ross hoped one day he would just get one Owl from his parents; however, it never seemed to come. He could not help but wonder if maybe he sent them an Owl first, they would reply. He was not sure what they would reply with, but he just wanted for a clarification that they still thought of him.

It was a reckless, exhausted decision; however, when was a decision made by him not? While he could have simply whispered lumos in his little dorm the sectioned off boys dormitory gave him and write an Owl, something bugged him to do otherwise. Something unnerved him about the dark room after Halloween night, but perhaps that was just his paranoia setting in. Now that he was in the Owlery with an empty scroll of parchment, some ink, and a quill, he quickly realized that the only thing more unnerving than being alone in an enclosed bedroom after Halloween night was being alone with one's own haunting thoughts in a freezing cold Owlery before anyone was awake.

So now here he was, sitting on the top floor of the Owlery as he practically clung to the natural sunlight. He had all the time in the world, yet he could not think of a word to put on the parchment. The paper itself seemed fragile, like a single wrong word would rip it in half. Part of him wished to write a mess of junk on the paper and simply cast Illegibilus on it, but that would be a waste of a perfectly good paper. Not only that, if someone were to find it they could simply use revelio.

As he concentrated on the paper, almost hoping his mind would write something for him, he would occasionally be startled out of his pointless by the sudden flapping of wings or a gust of wind. He even occasionally was startled by his own growling stomach. Oh how he craved Pumpkin Juice. He was always up for an adventure, yet right now he felt as if he could tear as easily as the paper with how his thought process was going. Just as he thought he was snapping out of his thought process, he heard something.

Footsteps

What kind of maniac would be coming to the Owlery this early in the morning? He immediately attempted to stop his breathing. What if there was some sort of killer on the loose? He did not want to be the crime scene covered in Owl feathers framed as an attempted suicide! He was supposed to be the DETECTIVE solving that crime.

He listened intently to the careless footsteps climbing the stairs hoping the footsteps would for some reason stop before they reached the top; however, soon enough he saw a peak of orange coming up from the staircase.

He was going to die today, the day AFTER HALLOWEEN. That had to be the LAMEST way to go out. Maybe if someone found him in the Owlery they would assume he was murdered on Halloween?

As the being ascended, it became far more clear that this was not just a being. This was a LADY. While he grew up in a respectful household on its own, but The year prior he was instantly taught if he did not respect girls at this school he would get his face punched in. Probably. He never let it get that far. While in any other circumstance he would have been a tad bit more patient and took his time to take note about the girl, he was anxious. FAR more anxious than he would like to be. As soon as she was steadily at the top of the stair case, he scrambled up and clumsily shoved his parchment, quill, and ink in his pockets as well. He rushed over to the girl and put his hand out for her to shake.

"Hi! The name is Ross. Stephens if you wanna be specific. As in.. Ross Stephens. I don't go Stephen. Unless you wanna call me Stephen of course! Then I guess that's okay!" he anxiously paused for a moment before taking in a deep breath and continuing. "Who are you? What year are you in? Why are you here? More importantly, Whenwillyoubeleaving?" He threw question after question at her, hardly realizing how quickly his voice was accelerating in speed.

"Alexa.. Alexa.. That's a pretty name! Not in a weird way of course, I just sorta like it y'know? It's a nice name and all that junk. He hurriedly remarked, clearing up possible uncomfortable confusion but probably making it more uncomfortable while he was at it.

He felt a little caught off guard finding out she was a second year like him. Surely he would have noticed her, right? He felt a twinge of guilt inside of him for not realizing that she was in his year. Normally he was so observant. Could this girl have simply been so shy she felt under his radar? These were VERY poor detective skills of himself. Still, he hardly allowed himself to have much time to consider it. He was still anxious to get out of here after all.

"Yep! Imma second year alright. I 'avent really seen you around though. Rather peculiar, isn't it?" he confessed to the girl.

He was so caught up in how much he desired to leave he hardly even noticed how much she was blushing and how odd she was acting about the letters. It actually never seemed to cross his mind. It seemed silly, but He was so fixated on himself that all he wanted to do was get himself out of there as soon as he possibly could. Later, the regret would likely set in as it dawned upon him there would have been a great mystery to solve. Instead, he fidgeted with the ring on his finger as he listened to her speak. Relief crossed his mind as soon as she brought up when she was leaving.

"Really? Then I'll come with! I mean.. outta here. Yeah, outta here! Just.. I'll stay close by when you hook all your letters up to the owls and such."

He hardly expected much of a conversation if the girl was as shy as he supposed she was, but much to his surprise he was caught off guard by a question he really did not expect to be asked despite how early he was awake.

"Well, I was sorta out for a morning walk you could say." he remarked, fidgeting with the crumpled piece of parchment in his pocket. "I don't really... gotanowloranythin... I just, got curious y'know? Didn't know what was up here. Turns out it's just owls!" he joked, anxiously laughing.

He lied. Ross DESPISED lying and hated liars far more, but the more he existed this year the more he was compelled to to lie. Over summer, he had actually lied quite a bit. In fact, he had not even discussed with the friends he had made last year since he came. He just kept lying his way out of things, and he would be lying to say he did not feel a tad bit ashamed of it. Still, he did what he had to do for the sake of not seeming like a fool. It was a precaution he did not frequently take; however, he was anxious. Sure he was consistently anxious, but this time was different. And so were all of the times prior, of course.

He really needed to get out of that habit.

While under all normal circumstances he would have appreciated the compliment, right now all he desired was to get out of there. It was so difficult to focus on anything but himself at the current moment. Every noise of an owl seemed to echo around in his brain and get lost with the rest of his cluttered thoughts.

As she began to explain herself, Ross really had to fight to keep listening to what she had to say. What he could really use right now was a long night of sleep and a bottle of pumpkin juice, but he could not get that due to the many many murderers that were bound to stab him as soon as he left the Owlery. That was how murderers worked, right?

"Well, suppose that's smart! Can't get into any drama or trouble then or.. set any people on fire or anythin' like that. I suppose that's a good way to stay out of problems." he remarked, clearly not even paying attention to what he himself was saying at this point.

As he spoke, he watched her walk over to nearly the other side of the room and noticed as a small owl swooped down upon her arm. He cringed, remembering accidentally getting scratched by an owl the year prior. He dared not say a word, holding his breath as he wondered if this was some form of obscure bonding experience that he was not cultured enough to have possibly understood. It was not until the owl once more took flight that he voiced his concerns.

"Don't the claws diggin into your skin... hurt? he inquired carefully, finding himself snapped out of his own self absorbed thought process for a moment.

He watched her bow her head and then turn to him, and she proceeded to ask a question he had not heard in a long long while.

Is everything okay?

It was one of those questions that he would often find himself answering in his journal, but it'd been quite some time since he had much of a chance to write much in his journal. Sure he still attempted to, but after a long summer of writing the same thing day after day it had become a struggle to get back into the habit.

"Is everything.. is everything okay?" he laughed, nervousness leaking into his voice. "Of course it is! I mean, everything is A-okay. I mean, if you count a blank page of parchment and bein' up in an Owlery for about an hour as 'not okay' then I suppose I'm guilty as charged, but I AM okay! Are you okay?" he began his defensive ramble, biting his lip as soon as he projected the question back to her.

The question simply caught him off guard was his current excuse, and would likely remain his excuse as he laid in bed that night thinking about the horrendous ramble he had just done.

Interacting with @Alexa Mackenzie

He did not believe her for a second. For the half hour he had been in there, he could officially declare he never wanted to touch an owl again. Those things bit if you got too close to them. He hated it. He hated owls. Perhaps it was just the anxiety or the rush to get out of there, but owls were suddenly his least favorite species after having to sit with them for over several minutes. he felt a sharp pierce of frustration in his heart as he rolled his eyes.

"sure, I'll... believe ya." he lied, impatience leaking into his tone that was only noticeable through anxiety prior.

It was a sharp change in tone for the boy for sure, but he just had no words to express how much he never wished to hear an owl hoot again. After a delicious breakfast it was certain he would change his mind; however, right now all he could feel was anxious, cranky, and fake. A good detective had to hide a lot of those traits at times, but right now he really wished he did not have to. He hoped his response answered the question for her that no, he did not have an owl and hardly planned on touching one again. Well, maybe he would when he was less cranky. His mind was too foggy for that for now. Really all he wanted was a little rat he could name Sherlock. He'd been saving up. This had to be one of the few experiences where he wished he had written in his journal.

Dear Journal

I recently got myself trapped in the Owlery and now I am hungry.

The end

Or at least that is what he thought he would write. He proceeded to fiddle with the parchment until he heard her next question.

"Writing? nono, not at all! Never been much of a writer or anythin.. he lied once more. He had a pen pal the year prior in the most boring class possible. Maybe my mum's baby if she knew how to read, but I doubt she'd wanna read a letter from me." he joked, laughing at his own remark but proceeding to hastily stop. He scratched at his neck and looked at the ground

He felt exhausted, both emotionally and physically in a way. He never lied- he never really lied before this actually. The year prior he was happily rambling on and on about the truth like it was his favorite thing, and now here he was consistently lying to people's face.

and then she asked the only thing a Hufflepuff could ask. It was a shift off him- but yet it strained him to answer. Did he want to hear a secret? Of course he did- he was a detective... however, it strained him. Still, it was his duty to be curious of it.

"...suppose so. he answered her, quietly in a contrast to how loud and anxious he seemed prior.

Another wave of anxiety hit him like he was standing in the middle of the ocean. Why did he keep saying these things without checking himself? Well- he could hardly think anyways. The small, echoey chamber of birds, the emotional issues he had never asked to be part of this, and the lack of breakfast was getting to his head. He would kill for just a regular plate of bacon right now.

"A baby sibling? no no- Well, sorta. More of my mum's and dad's kid. I'm not adopted though! Nor is she.. So.. sorta, yeah. Baby sister." He rushed.

He was fidgeting with his ring to the point it was bound to leave a mark on his skin. He had to hold himself back from crumbling up perfectly good parchment. Was it hot in here or was it just him? It felt as if she had just touched an open wound despite how calm she was. How was she so calm? He could not comprehend it. It was such an enclosed space and there was only so much the torches and sun could do.

And suddenly, she hit him with a truck with her story. His anxiety still remained, but he was quieter. He normally knew how to reply to these sorts of things. As a detective, it was his job; however, this time was different. This time was absolutely different. It was as if the words had been taken completely out of his mouth.

"I-i...Parents are stupid sometimes. is all he could get out.

And before he knew what he was doing, he ran. He booked it. His legs had practically carried him out, but without the need of someone beside his side at all he had run out of the Owlery. He supposed Alexa really did help him out.