Trapped behind the Walls Pv Skraele Closed

Skraele is confused about where the boy is taking her. She would be uneasy about the situation, except this was Michael. She doesn't think she has anything to worry about when it comes to the shy, awkward boy. With a highly piqued brow and squinted eyes, she listens hard. She heard things, sure. To say it was ill, she didn't know, but her overactive imagination wants to go there.

She folds her arms lightly at his confession slash plea and glances around again. "Do you think we could get in trouble for being here? How did you find this place? And anyway, why? I mean, I know you like your alone time, but isn't this a bit much?"

She rather likes the way he pronounces her name; it's funny, cute, and endearing all at once, and she can't help but smile when he does. A hand rises to tap fingers on her jaw, quite a common habit when she's thinking hard and one he's seen already.

"Honestly, Michael, I don't know. I can't say I understand very well the way wizards think, but, if it's here in the school, it must be important somehow. Maybe there's something for us to learn here! I'm sure they wouldn't let all this space go to waste for no reason. Or, maybe it's just an easy trap to catch naughty, misanthropic students." She giggles and gently punches his arm before wandering around without his guidance.

"If it is so dangerous, wouldn't it be forbidden? Is it forbidden? I might have missed that part. If you're that worried about it, isn't there somewhere else you could hide?"

@Michael Ashen

"I hae been explorin' the place -- Hogwarts, that is -- but nae tryin' tae hide. I . . . I guess I'm so used to looking for places tae sit and think . . . that I do it by instinct. And I thought this was an interestin' place, and full o' noises, and strange things. So, I marked it in m'map, and made absolutely sure that I could find m'way back and forth between it and the Gryffindor house. Because . . . I mean, I like Gryffindor, and all that, but . . . they're all sae smart and think sae fast, they really intimidate me."

"Which, kinda brings me tae you, Skraele. Like all roads leadin' tae Rome. I was sae disappointed that I couldnae be Huffinpuff w'you. Since you were . . . honestly? Honestly . . . m'first e'er friend. And I worried that I'd lose ye as a friend, because we never saw each other."

"Skraele? D'ye know that, when I touched yer hands, on the train, that I had ne'er e'er held th'hand of a girl before? Ne'er. Ye were the first . . . girl . . . I had e'er met that was nice tae me. And . . . that's why I brought ye here."

"Skraele . . . say no, and I'll take ye right back to Huffinpuff. But if yes . . . I hae never kissed a girl before . . . and I would like you, my first friend, to be m'first kiss as well. Say no, and I'll ne'er say another word about it. But say yes, and it'd make me sae happy."

He looks at the floor, waiting for her answer, and expecting her to decline, fully ready to take her back to Hufflepuff and endure the humiliation.

The shorter redhead listens intently with a casual smile. She doesn't think Michael has said so much at once since they first met. She isn't sure abouthis reference to Rome and roads but doesn't think it's particularly important and gets the gist. She is flattered to be his first friend, and her smile grows despite the sad implications.

Her confusion begins at the mention of hands, barely remembering the moment to be honest besides the wraps, and continues at the mention of their purpose here and his unsteady terms. At the mention of kiss, green eyes blink slowly then increase in tempo, her smile disappearing with similar speed until she's chewing the corner of her lip and blushing fiercely enough to almost swallow her freckles.

"K-kiss...? Michael... I, um..." She stares at him for long moments, her brain as fried as her cheeks and now neck as the flush creeps. She occasionally refrained from speaking, but she is almost never speechless. The pinch on her lip becomes painful so instead she nervously shifts her weight with her feet pointed inward. Without realizing it, her brain switches gears, and she gives a nervous giggle and reaches for his hand, sympathetic for the foreign expression on his downturned face.

"Well... maybe you belong in Gryffindor after all. That's the bravest thing I've seen you do, and I'm sure there's more where that came from! I'm not your only friend though, there's Bea and Hils too! We're practically minutes apart."

In hindsight, that seems like a very dumb thing to say under the circumstances. Neither of them were here receiving his proposal. If she could blush more at that particular thought, she certainly would.

@Michael Ashen

"Oh, I see."

He turns away from her, a little, looking at the floor, trying to decide what she had actually said, and what she meant. The bravest thing a boy can do is to take his heart out, shake it, and try to decide what it wants; what it needs. Michael Ashen is no genius, and knows nothing about girls, or kissing, or holding hands. But he has stepped into a ring to spar with older boys looking to hurt him, and he's never backed down.

He nods, considering, and says, "Skraele, I understand, I do." He smiles, wryly. "Lord knows, I'd ne'er want tae be kissed by me. Come on, now, and I'll take ye back to Huffinpuff, and ye'll ne'er hear me be sae stupid again. I'm sorry tae have brought you out sae far from yer house. But . . . yer my friend, and this is my place, sae it's yer place as well, anytime ye want. Please don't think that because I made a fool o'myself that I'll be cowardly enough to avoid ye, or make ye feel uncomfortable around me. As far as I'm concerned, yer still m'first friend, and I remember a few minutes when you were m'only one."

"Wait..." is all she manages while tugging on his hand in hers. She stands there biting her lip for several moments longer before offering a smile. "I'm not just letting you run away after that."Her heritage comes through then, thoughts of proper diction far from her mind, and her voice grows with indignation. Even her 'r's roll, though not as strongly as his. Ah didn' say na. Don' ya thin' that way! There's nothin' wron' wid'ya! 'Fact, ya nothin' bu'a gen'leman. An'one be sah lucky have as a friend! Ya'll no' bae talkin' like that again unless ya want me kick ya arse!"

Her face red now for completely different reasons, she leans in while pulling him and presses her lips to his. It's hardly romantic, graceful or much contact, but there it is, being her first, of any that counted at least. While the moment seems to her over long, it was in fact less than a second before she pulls away with that quick fire still sizzling in emerald eyes.

An' there's nothin' wron' with this place, bu' ya have get ou' the castle more of'en! Ah'll have no more o' this sulkin' abou'!

It might seem when she gives a piece of her mind, she really gives it all at once as the words flow from one thought to another without pause. Although it could just be a mechanism to mask nerves.

@Michael Ashen

The young boy blinks, and starts to talk, and then stops, and then blinks again.

Was that it? He'd had his first kiss, and from Skraele, no less. The moment burned on his lips, and his eyes seem to swim. He wasn't sure how he felt. Skraele had kissed him! But now she was yelling at him, and that was a feeling he was very familiar with.

She's so angry. But is she really angry? Her tone is sharp, and she is retreating into the Irish, the way his auntie would retreat into the Scots when she was pushed too far, and couldn't remember the English for what she wanted to yell.

But she was angry with him, a bit at least. She's cross with how he talks about himself -- but others, teachers and his aunt, had said similar, and no mistake. There was a threat to kick his arse, which was par for the course, at all times. It was the basic threat of everyone he had ever been threatened by. It could have been coined -- it was the Coin of the Realm, for the schoolyard, the bully, and the fed-up.

"Well," he said finally, able to tell her the truth by at least one thing, "I hae not actually been skulkin. I've stood up th'entire time."

After a long moment of sizzling, Skraele realizes that she has perhaps overreacted. Her face gradually softens into a familiar sideways smile. Rather than apologize for potentially being a little rash, and surely with this boy as much could have been said in the calmest of tone and have an effect, the girl hugs him for a long time. "I said sulking, not skulking, Glasgow. Are you going to tell me you haven't been sulking either?"

She laughs softly into his shoulder before leaning back to look at him. She loves his unique colorless eyes, even better up close. She hopes for another kiss and this time it'll be the other way around while somewhat regretting that she had been the one to pull him into the first. That is her usual approach to things though for better or worse. Before he can, her words start flowing again while a hand swipes tousled hair out of her way, "I do like the place though. I expect not too many people come around, and I rather like the creepy atmosphere. I suppose, if you have to be alone, it's the perfect spot, and well suits you, mystery boy." She smirks with an arched brow while wondering where the line for banter ended with him. She doesn't want too push too much or too little. It would be nice to see what kind of person he is when he really opens up.

@Michael Ashen

He looks deeply into her eyes, with his odd, colourless ones -- just the barest tinge of blue in otherwise steel-grey -- and as she hugs him, he slowly, tentatively, puts his arms around her as well.

"Well . . . I'm glad tae hear that you nae think I'm skulkin', at least," he says, in his slow, thoughtful manner. "And if I hae been sulkin' . . . well, I regret it, for I've nought tae sulk about."

The way her face looked up at him, and the look in her eye, made him reach up and stroke the bangs away from her face, and stroke his hand down her ear and his thumb across her cheek. And then her eyes closed, and he knew that was an invitation, and that what he had stolen before was now about to be given to him honestly. He ducked his head a little, and pressed his lips to hers -- a second kiss, with all the experience and practice of the last one.

Turn your head so, use your hand on her face thus. She'll not press, so you must approach, with your mouth.

And then the pressing of his lips to hers, in as chaste, and romantic, a kiss as was ever bestowed on a princess by a knight.

The way he looks at her in that moment causes an instant, unfamiliar stir of butterflies in her stomach, and she can't help but blush and grow a little demure, an unusual feeling as well. She would probably never forget this moment even were there cause to later. She smiles bright and innocent as he pushes scraggly red locks from her face.

His lips on hers has a totally different feel this time than the one moments ago. It is romantic and she's completely in tune with the tactile sensations, whereas her head hadn't been completely in the one before. The kiss is lovely, she assumes for never having one before, and she wishes it will last forever. Which is ironic because she's the first to pull away, a giddy smile overwhelming her lips which she looks down to hide while the blush has turned most her cheeks and neck scarlet.

She turns her head and lies it against his chest while staring at the door. It would be terrible if someone came in right now. We'd be in big trouble... but worth it. OH SO WORTH IT! Her mind silently screams with euphoria. Out loud, she offers, "Well... she croaks a little and clears her throat while not looking up. "Ah reckon ya have somethin' ta look forward now." Her voice is slipping again, and she takes a deep breath to control herself. "I think I rather like your little secret place even more, suddenly. I think we'll have to come back again tomorrow to figure out what those noises are about."

@Michael Ashen