Dancing Sparks PV Ruka Burnett-Tân Closed

Ruka couldn't quite believe he had told Winnie of all people his practice schedule. The young Ravenclaw already gave off downright stalker-ish vibes and there he was giving her even more information.

However, she had seemed so genuinely interested in his fire dance, and it wasn't like she had actually done anything to harm him with the things she had written down in her notebook. Yet. So Ruka had agreed to let her come and watch him practice. Casually. They could just talk, like how they had done down by the lake when they had first met, and at Dee's birthday party. Ruka could show her some choreography, and maybe he could hear more about the farm Winnie had grown up. They could be like friends. Sort of. The weird kind.

So that Saturday, Ruka had dressed himself in the black flowing clothes Jack's mum had gotten them for last year's talent show - the ones with the fire fox pattern - and grabbed some unlit torches, as well as his messenger bag before he headed towards the rehearsal room. He'd made sure to have some lunch first to make sure he had enough energy for a full practice session, and maybe he had gotten a little carried away with the deliciousness that was pumpkin pie, which was why he found himself running a bit late.

His barefooted steps were quick, a rushed pitter-patter of bare skin against stone ringing through the corridors. Upon reaching the rehearsal room, he carefully shouldered open the door, slipping through as quietly as he could, just in case someone was already there and practicing. He had been right to do so, too, because he could hear a gentle voice singing a song he was only vaguely familiar with. The melody was comforting, the voice soft and full of feeling.

He should have probably realised it was Winnie even before his gaze found her, but he just hadn't... expected her to be a singer. For some reason it hadn't really occurred to him that she could be into art and music. He wondered...

Before he could finish his thought, she had stopped and for a moment there was no sound, until the portraits along the walls started clapping and complimenting her. It made Ruka smile fondly, and he dropped his torches to offer applause himself as well, but before he could Winnie had turned to rush in the direction of the door as if she just had to get away as quickly as possible.

Ruka stared at her approaching form, startled. "What, you're gonna leave before you got to see the main act?" he asked, amusement heavy in his voice as he held his arms out as if to try and prevent her from sidestepping him. "I prepared for an audience!" He chuckled, then bent down to pick up one of his torches again. "You didn't mention you sing," he said, eagerly leaning forward as if inspecting her more closely would reveal some other hidden talents. "It sounded really nice. Think I could hear some more, maybe?"

If Ruka had asked her about her notebook, she would have happily shown him all the notes she had written. She would do anything for him; he was her hero. She had put her thoughts about Jack in a separate notebook anyway. She thought she was hiding her crush on Ruka's brother rather well. She was wrong.

Regardless of her feelings for Jack Burnett, she still admired Ruka and wanted to be his good friend, especially after everything he had done for her. She was also really curious about fire dancing, as she had only seen a little of it during the blossom ball and wanted an up close look. Watching Ruka in his natural element was also very appealing to her.

It was unfortunate for her she had tried singing, otherwise she wouldn't have left the room unless the castle was collapsing. She stopped in her tracks. Her stomach dropped at the sight of him and her face drained of its colour. She wanted to cry, but she told herself to stop, that maybe he hadn't heard her. Or perhaps if he had, he was too kind to admit it. Ruka wasn't like her father. He wouldn't yell at her, right? She took in a deep breath and tried to offer the older boy a nervous smile. "R-Ruka, I'm sorry... The paintings frightened me..." It wasn't a lie; they had frightened her. Her eyes flickered over his costume, a smile curving on her lips. "I do want to watch you perform; you look really cool in your costume. I really like the fox on it, it suits yo-..." She trailed off when the Gryffindor confirmed that he had heard her singing. "No..." She tried to say, her features twisting into a horrified expression. She was about to tell him it wasn't her, even if it was illogical, but then...

"It sounded really nice. Think I could hear some more, maybe?"

He wanted to listen to her sing? ... But why? Was he making fun of her? No... Ruka would never do that, at least not in this way. More so in the brotherly kind of fashion. He was trying to make her feel better, wasn't he? She suddenly dropped the boy's present and rushed forward, closing the distance between them before she pushed herself onto her tiptoes. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and gave the older boy a big hug. "Ruka... Thank you." She held him for a moment before pulling back, her hands sliding down his arms to grasp the hand that wasn't holding the torch. "I... Sorry about that... I was just really happy when you said that." She admitted, peering down at his hand and tracing her thumb over his skin, and perhaps one of his cute scars if any of them were visible. "Even if you're just saying it to make me feel better, I really appreciate it. You're the nicest person I've ever met, Ruka." She told him, giving his hand a squeeze.

@Winnie Harper

His presence stopped Winnie's departure, so Ruka dropped his arms again, smiled at the girl with amusement sparkling in his eyes. The paintings had startled her apparently, which was fair enough. They tended to stay quiet when there were multiple people around, but every once in a while one of them would applaud out of nowhere, or throw in a more or less flattering comment. He couldn't really blame her for having gotten scared.

His lips spread into a smile when she commented on his clothes, but the compliment got lost when Winnie trailed off as if realising something horrible. She looked about ready to bolt again, but then she simply dropped the package she'd been holding and pushed forward to wrap her arms around him, much like she had done back at the lake, except with even more enthusiasm if that was possible.

"Uh," he murmured, eyes wide. His insides contorted, his breath hitched in his throat, and he found himself unable to return the hug, but Winnie didn't seem to mind anyway. She simply pulled back and moved to hold his hand instead, rubbed her thumb across his heavily scarred knuckles. In fact, his sleeves were long enough to hide the scars across his arms, but his hands were full of old cuts and burns. There was barely a spot for Winnie to touch that wasn't slightly raised scar tissue.

The feeling, however, didn't seem to bother her because she didn't let go, even gave his hand a little squeeze. It was her words, however, that pulled Ruka from his stupor. She talked about his compliment as if he had only said it to make her feel better, as if he had enough social grace for fake niceties, and she was grateful for it too, called him nice of all things as if he had done something spectacular just by noticing that she had a nice singing voice. It stung his chest, made him purse his lips and pull his brows together.

"I don't say things just to be nice," he insisted as he squeezed Winnie's hand in return, dropped his torch for the moment so he could grasp the girl's other hand in his own. He remembered the way she had talked, back at the lake, how she had given the impression that she had no friends, not really, might have even been used to people not treating her particularly well. That she thought he, Ruka, of all people was the nicest person she knew... It was painful somehow. "I meant it. It sounded really pretty. Think I could hear some more? Maybe I can come up with a choreography for it." Excitement sparked his eyes as he thought of coming up with a new routine to match the gentle song Winnie had been singing.

With a little smile, Ruka freed one of his hands from Winnie's grip but held onto her other to lead her further into the room once he had picked up his torch again. "C'mon," he said gently. "It'll be like... a collaboration, yeah?"

It was alright that Ruka didn't hug her back, Winnie didn't mind. She was still going to hug him. Personal space wasn't really something she understood, especially when she cared about someone, but the Gryffindor had likely figured that out by now. Ruka's hands were warm. She liked his scars, which she assumed he had received during his dancing. They were like little roadmaps of the hard work and passion he had put into his art form. She could definitely understand that.

He didn't say things to be nice? Then why had he said that to her? Out of pity? Maybe, but Winnie still thought that was nice of him. It surprised her when Ruka took her other hand, he had never really responded to her hugs or touch before, aside from the odd time he placed a hand on her shoulder. Her blue eyes blinked down at his hands, then up at his face with that compliment. "... You did?" Her hero was asking to hear more of her song? Was she dreaming? If so, this was a nice dream. "... Ruka... I've only ever sung in front of my mum... and dad, but he hated the noise." She admitted with a nervous smile. "I don't really understand why you would want me to... But if... If you want me to sing... I think I would feel safe singing with you." She felt comfortable around the boy, as if they had been friends forever, and if he really wanted to hear her song... How could she say no to her hero? She couldn't. She smiled, giving his hand three little squeezes, like her mother usually did to her. As they walked further into the rehearsal room, she didn't want to let his hand go, so she awkwardly swung down to grab her gift off of the floor and pass it over to the Gryffindor. "This is for you." She explained, "I finished the painting... You don't have to open it now, but I wanted you to have it."

"A collaboration? I would be honoured!" She was so touched by his words, she couldn't help but give him a quick half hug with her free arm. As she pulled back, she caught a distinct scent. "Oh! Ruka... You smell nice." You know, just a super normal compliment. "Like lemons. Oh! Is it your shampoo?" She leaned in closer, her free hand reaching up to gently brush through his hair. "I usually use the strawberry kind."

@Winnie Harper

Ruka frowned as Winnie talked about how she had only ever sung in front of her parents. Already when they first met Winnie hadn't been shy about revealing that she didn't get along well with her father, but when she said that he hadn't liked the noise when she was singing, Ruka felt irrational anger bubbling up inside him. What kind of parent would trample on their child's self esteem like that? Who would ever say something like that?

"Your dad's a jerk," he decided bluntly, brows furrowed as he looked at Winnie with pursed lips. "You have a nice voice and if you like to sing then who cares if he doesn't like the sound? If it bothers him so much he should invest in some earplugs." Gnawing at the inside of his cheek for a moment, Ruka took a deep breath to quench the anger inside him. There was no use in letting out his aggressions on someone who wasn't even there. "Sorry," he said, averting his eyes for a moment. "I don't like the thought of someone making you feel bad for something you enjoy doing." And clearly she did enjoy doing it, otherwise she wouldn't have felt compelled to do it by herself in the empty rehearsal room.

"I'd like that a lot," he told her genuinely when she stated that she would feel comfortable singing in front of him. He didn't quite understand why she would, considering he hadn't exactly been his friendliest around her so far, but he wasn't about to argue. Especially not when he felt her hand squeezing his in a familiar pattern.

One, Two, Three

It took him off guard for a moment, made his eyes widen, his shoulders instinctively relax. Had she known that the pattern calmed him down, that he tended to count his threes whenever he felt nervous? No, she couldn't have, could she?

Shaking his head off the thought, Ruka stared in wonder at the package Winnie swiftly picked off the floor again just to hand it to him. "Oh," he said, surprised, and stared at it for a moment. She was giving him the portrait she had made of him when they first met. That was... sweet. Thoughtful. He wanted to unwrap it to have a look, but before he could, she leaned in to hug him again, a little awkwardly with them still holding hands, but she made it work anyway.

This time Ruka didn't feel quite so tense, still touched by the gesture of gift giving. It was still a novelty for him; Gifts were not something he had ever really gotten before Hogwarts, and even now it was rare. The last present he could think of having gotten was Spark, the plush Lynx his new family had given him for his birthday. Maybe he could also count the drawing he had received from Kazuo. That one had certainly felt like a gift at least. Still, people rarely ever just gave him stuff for no reason.

While the hug hadn't startled him that much, Ruka found himself tensing a little again when Winnie stopped to... smell him. She had done much the same to Jack at the Ball, and Ruka had already found it weird then, couldn't bring himself to think of it as any more normal this time around either. Lemons. He smelled like lemons. He didn't think anybody else had ever commented on it. "Yeah," he said quietly, eyes wide as Winnie reached up to run a hand through his hair. The touch was unfamiliar, not something he was really used to from anyone, much less someone he barely knew, but he found himself leaning into it instinctively anyway. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, his skin tingling comfortably with the contact of a warm hand against his scalp. When Winnie informed him that she used strawberry shampoo, he found himself leaning forward a little to get a whiff of it.

She did smell of strawberries. Fruity and flowery. It made him think of the fields in Ireland, weaving flower crowns to sell them at the market, dancing through high grass, eating strawberry ice cream with his dad. When his eyelids fluttered open again, he found himself almost uncomfortably close to the girl, his nose against her temple, his lips almost touching her cheekbone. He pulled back a little, dazed and confused. One hand was still holding onto Winnie's while the other clutched the still packaged painting to his chest. "Fruity," he mumbled, at a loss for anything else to say. Her hand was still in his hair and he wasn't sure what to do with his own as both of them were occupied. Reflexively he squeezed Winnie's hand three times the same way she had done to him before. His eyes met hers, forest green sparkling with confusion.

He wasn't sure what was happening exactly but it definitely wasn't part of how he thought his afternoon was going to go.

Ruka's rather blunt comment about her father shocked Winnie and she found herself staring over at the older boy. A jerk? ... Ruka wasn't wrong, and even Winnie had known her father wasn't a normal kind of parent. Parents were supposed to love and protect their children, like her mother loved her. They were not supposed to put them down because they were tired of hearing them sing. They were not supposed to try and repress their child's magic by hiding away all signs of magic and trying to order their partner and parents to do the same. They were not supposed to leave their children and wife so they could go 'find themselves'. "Ruka, don't be sorry... Y-You're right." Winnie's voice shook, teardrops streaking her cheeks. "It's hard for me to see, since he's my father, but... I don't think he ever really wanted to be a father." She admitted quietly, her voice almost a soft whisper. "Or he shouldn't be... I don't know..." She shrugged her shoulders, biting on her lower lip as she thought for a moment, before taking a deep breath and fixing her gaze back onto the Gryffindor. "I don't want to make this about me... Maybe... I can tell you more about it sometime?" She didn't want to burden the older boy, but even admitting this much to him was very therapeutic. If Ruka didn't want to listen to her, he could always politely decline. Today was meant to be about him and his amazing talent, not about her broken home.

That comment had her smiling again, her heart thumping against her chest. Ruka was so kind to her, she wasn't certain what she had done to deserve a friend like him, but she would do her best to cherish him so they could be friends for life. He deserved everything beautiful in the world and more. "I also wrote you a poem." She admitted with a nervous grin, "I'm not the best, but I enjoy it, so I figure that's all that matters." She wasn't sure why she had that attitude about her art and writing, but when it came to singing she froze. Was it not the same? If she enjoyed it, why not do it? "Someday, when I've gotten better, I'll write you a proper poem."

As someone who grew up among fields of flowers, scent was extremely important to Winnie. Certain scents could bring back memories or make one feel calm. She just wanted to know what the people she cared about smelled like. She closed her eyes and pushed her face closer to the Gryffindor's. "Lemons and... Burnt wood." She confirmed with a soft hum. "Like a warm fire on a winter's morning and lemon herbal tea. Warm and gentle." She could see it now; her mother poking at the fire, adding another log before standing to pass Winnie her tea. A moment of peace before their hectic morning routine. When she opened her eyes, she flushed upon realizing how close they were, but couldn't help but smile at that comment. She slid her hand down and cupped his cheek with her palm, her thumb sliding up to affectionately 'bop' his nose before dropping her hand. Her smile widened into a grin at that hand squeeze, giving him three in return. "Ruka, do you know about three squeezes? It's how you tell someone you care about them without having to say it out loud. My Mum taught it to me."

@Winnie Harper

It seemed like Winnie was taken aback for a moment by Ruka's rather blunt observation. It made him feel sorry immediately, eyes widening in horror as he watched the girl in front of him crying silent tears that made her cheeks glisten wetly. Her voice was shaking when she spoke, but her words eased his concern that he may have overstepped. It seemed she did agree with his words even if she acknowledged that it was hard to think of her father that way. Ruka definitely knew how that was. "If you'd like to share," he said gently, reaching his free hand up to wipe at her cheek, try to dry the tears. "Then I'd like to hear about it. You can tell me about him whenever you'd like." Smiling encouragingly, Ruka nodded to emphasise his words. It seemed like Winnie was keeping a whole lot of negativity stashed inside her and maybe talking about it would actually help her.

When Winnie announced that she had written him a poem, Ruka glanced down at the packaged painting in his arm to see a note poking out beneath the ribbon she had tied around it. "You're very artistic," he observed with a certain level of awe in his voice. Artistic people had always fascinated him; People who could draw and craft things, could sing and dance and express themselves in much more powerful ways than simple speech. "I'm sure your poem is great. That you enjoyed writing it already makes it great." It was a genuine sentiment and that reflected in the smile he gave her. He wondered if the only difference between writing and painting, and singing was the fact that Winnie's father had apparently discouraged her from doing the latter. How awful an influence someone's disapproval could have on another person's way of life. How much enjoyment it was able to rob one of.

Ruka meant to reach for the poem, truly, but he didn't have the time to before Winnie had hugged him again, had started analysing the way he smelled. The hand she had in his hair moved, her face was still a little damp from her earlier crying and he could feel the heat radiating off it, could smell the saltiness of her tears. Her voice filtered into his mind, but slowly, as if she was talking through thick fog.

There was more touch, more close contact that made him feel like he needed to get away, but instead he pushed his cheek against Winnie's hand, closed his eyes, hummed when the pad of her thumb brushed against the tip of his nose. It was comfortable at the same time as being horribly nerve-racking but he couldn't seem to pull himself away from the affection. It was nice, warm, gentle. Her hand squeezed his again, three times. A way to tell someone you cared about them, apparently. He liked that, loved that even. No words needed, just a gentle rhythm of threes, a comforting squeeze.

Winnie's face was so close, too close, and her hair still smelled like strawberries. He wanted to say something, anything, to let her know that he hadn't been aware of the three squeezes, that he was going to make sure to remember it, but instead he leaned forward, shut his eyes, and pressed his lips - chapped and a little too dry - against hers. Without realising, he had dropped the packaged painting to the floor, instead lifted his hand to rest against Winnie's cheek, where his thumb desperately tried to brush away any remaining tears. The kiss he gave her was unpracticed, sloppy even; unexperienced lips pressed together to leave little pecks across her bottom lip, the corners of her mouth. Still, something about the way he was able to slot his own thin lips against her plump ones was comforting, almost addictive. Was that what kissing was supposed to feel like?

It was only when he pulled away that he realised what he had done. Again.

He raised his free hand - the one not still holding Winnie's - to touch his lips with his fingertips, stared at the girl in front of him blankly. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, eyes wide with terror. What was wrong with him? Had he not learned his lesson yet? Had he really needed a repeat of the last time he had let his body take over his mind like that? "I'm sorry, I don't know why..." He gurgled uselessly, and for some reason the only thing his mind could focus on was the fact that her lips had left even more strawberry taste and scent across his own.

This was not good.

So not good.

Ruka’s words slowly filtered into Winnie’s head. Despite her crying in front of the boy, he was still willing to listen to her complaints? Was he trying to be nice again? No... He was just being Ruka. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, nodding slowly as she nuzzled her cheek against that warm hand. It was soothing, and it reminded her of their first meeting, when she had told the Gryffindor boy he could take his time telling her things about him. "Thank you, Ruka. Maybe after I watch you practice?" She suggested with a weak smile. She still didn’t want to put a damper on their afternoon together.

"My mum enjoys the arts, before she married my dad, she was an art teacher." She explained. She wasn't certain why Ruka seemed so impressed. He had an amazing skill himself, after all. She definitely couldn't fire dance. She would likely end up setting her hair or clothing on fire. Besides, she wanted to watch the Gryffindor as he danced. He seemed passionate about it, and she had no doubt it would be amazing. "She homeschooled me herself, so I guess it makes sense that I enjoy expressing myself through art." She glanced down at the card, a soft flush on her cheeks, "As long as you enjoy it too." She corrected him with a playful wink, "Although, if you don't, maybe we can work on writing one together? It could be about fire dancing!" That sounded like a lot of fun and like a great excuse to get to know her hero better and learn more about fire dancing.

Winnie had noticed how close they were together moments earlier, but was only now feeling a heat rising up from her chest into her throat when her light blue eyes met the Gryffindor's own green eyes. They were very bright, like the leaves of a tree during late spring. "Your eyes are pretty." She said without thinking about her words. She was thinking instead of how nice it felt to touch Ruka, and how warm his skin was against her own. How those gentle touches felt so calming and gave her butterflies all at once.

She found herself waiting for Ruka to say something, to break the silence between them. Had what she said been odd? Was she not supposed to care about him? She did, though. He was important to her. She was going to open her mouth and tell him as much, break the silence between them and return to their prior conversation, when suddenly his lips were against her own. She felt her cheeks heat up and she froze for a moment. What was happening? Ruka... He was kissing her. He was kissing her. Why?

She also... Didn't hate it at all. His lips were rough and chapped, but they were also warm. There was a distinct taste too... Pumpkins. Pastries... A bit of her own strawberry lip balm mixed in. She snapped out of her daze, closed her eyes, and pushed her body forward to kiss him back. It was gentle and sweet, just like a first kiss should be. Wait, first kiss? This was her first proper kiss. Their noses bumping together, lips against lips, the perfect amount of awkward and sweet. The top of his lips, his bottom lip, the corners, sometimes his chin. Somewhere along the way, her hand had reached up to grasp his shoulder, while the other slid back up to cup his cheek. Her mind filled with thoughts of Ruka. She never wanted it to stop.

But then it did, and even worse than that was the look of horror he was giving her. He was apologizing to her...? Why? "Ruka..." She raised the hand that had been resting on his shoulder, rubbing the tips of her index finger against his lips. Ruka's own had just been against them. Her lips suddenly curved into a smile. "You kissed me." She said, stating the obvious, still flustered and panting softly as she caught her breath. "... Without asking me first." She said, as if she were going to scold him. "It was perfect, but it's my turn to not ask you." She suddenly stepped forward, closing the gap between them to kiss him again, this time Winnie would take the lead, and her kiss would be a lot more eager, filled with the excitement of a girl who had just discovered how much she liked kissing. Kissing Ruka.

This was great.

It was wonderful.

@Winnie Harper

The little smile on Winnie's face pulled at Ruka's heartstrings and he almost reached out to pinch her cheek but pulled himself back from the urge. "Sure, of course," he said gently, nodding with a small smile to match her's. With that, he focused on listening to her talking about her mother and how she had been an art teacher. Another good thing that seemed to have ended with the arrival of Winnie's father. He wondered why her mother had married someone like that in the first place, but he didn't want to ask and potentially make Winnie feel even worse. She was already crying, he didn't need to pile onto that.

"Write a poem together?" he asked with a little chuckle, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully. "I'm not sure I'm much of a poet but I could try. Maybe you could teach me." There was another smile on his face after that, before they somehow found themselves much closer together than was strictly appropriate. Her comment about his eyes was barely acknowledged, only elicited a small hum from him before things happened too quickly to really keep track of. All Ruka really knew was that one moment they were hugging and the next their lips were pressed together, and Winnie's hands were mapping his hair, his face, his shoulders.

He had braced himself for some kind of verbal or physical attack once he pulled away, but Winnie didn't seem upset, not even in the slightest. She seemed flustered at best, a little breathless maybe, but there was a confidence in the way she placed her finger against his lips to stop him from apologising again, and the way her voice sounded when she pointed out that he hadn't asked her before he kissed her. That was probably something to take note of for future kisses. Consent was important.

However, Winnie didn't actually seem mad about it, didn't bother to keep trying to sound like she was scolding him. Instead she stepped forward, into his space rather than away, and the next thing he knew, she was kissing him again, far more enthusiastically than he had done just a moment earlier. The force with which she pressed against him made him stumble backwards, against the nearest wall where he let his knees buckle enough for him to be roughly the same height as Winnie. In the back of his mind he thought he was supposed to push her away, put a stop to this, but it... it felt nice. Like being wanted, needed. It was awkward above all, just two children who didn't really know what they were doing. Lips pressing together roughly, then more gently, Ruka's hands fumbling to figure out where to rest until he finally placed one on her waist and the other against her neck, his thumb tilting her face up a bit for a better angle.

He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do; Flash had pushed him away, definitely hadn't kissed him again, and that was the only experience he had to go off of, which meant that he was completely at a loss. He didn't know if he was supposed to move his mouth, part his lips, could do nothing but let Winnie kiss him with enthusiastic force. His shoulders were aching against the stone wall, but the feeling of a warm body pressed against him, wanting to be close, let him forget about the pain. He kept his eyes shut, tried to relax and just let Winnie take the lead so he could try to figure out what he was supposed to do, how he was supposed to react.

For now he didn't think letting himself enjoy the sensation was such a bad idea.