Anxiety Closed

Phoebe certainly wasn't expecting Koko to attempt a Scottish accent, a very bad one at that. She didn't know how to respond at first, but after a few seconds of processing the rather cringe-worthy accent, her lips slowly curled upward into a massive grin quickly followed by a loud and aggressive laugh. She squinted her eyes, laughing whole-heartedly until her ribs hurt. It took a few seconds for her to collect herself, but when she did, she replied to Koko with a terrible English accent saying, "Oh indeed, madam. I simply do not know whatever compelled me to apologize. Please forgive me," Phoebe said. She sarcastically bowed to her, grinning from ear to ear.

"A bush?" she asked, slightly confused. "If it were up to me, I'd say you're more of a gardenia," she said. "Gardenias are very elegant flowers, perfect for formal events." Phoebe blushed. She didn't want to tell her that gardenias mainly symbolize confessing one's love for another. That wasn't what she meant when she made the connection, but she also didn't want to tell her what she did mean. Koko seemed so regal to her, so elegant, but it made her feel embarrassed to express that thought. Because of that, she didn't say anything more.

A smile broke across Koko's face. Her cheeks and ears had begun to turn red from the cold. She didn't feel it, though the wind was howling in her face. "A gardenia, you say?" She laughed, a rythymic pattern that was full of feeling. "I'm too klutzy to be a flower... Maybe one of those poor ones that gets knocked over by a breeze?" She meant it to be good-natured, but she didn't know how Phoebe would take it. "Thanks for having faith in me!" She puffed her chest triumphantly, and then she let out the breath she'd been holding.

Koko wasn't much of an herbologist. She knew nothing about plants and their meanings, except in one religion, throwing an apple at someone was a proposal. She knew flowers were delicate and beautiful, shrubs were dignified and anxious, and trees were obviously sad because of their height... Or maybe that last one wasn't true.

Her smile grew even wider as she looked Phoebe up and down. "You, lass," she said, with an even worse Scottish accent. "You are a Scottish thistle. Prickly at times, but always priceless to close friends." Koko believed she had done a wonderful job of relating her friend to a plant, a plant that just so happened to be Scotland's national flower.

Phoebe frowned when Koko degraded herself. "It's not just me having faith in you; I'm also being observant. It doesn't matter if you fake it or not, but the way you carry yourself in front of others is admirable," she said. It was true. Phoebe had no idea how to seem as calm and collected as her, even if she internally felt otherwise.

Phoebe blushed when Koko compared her to a thistle. She was flattered because nobody had compared her to anything of the like, but she was also slightly confused. However, she did find thistles to be quite pretty. They had an unusual shape, but that's what Phoebe liked most about it.

"Thank you," she said, lifting the corners of her lips. Even though she couldn't really make a nice connection between the plant and herself, she still appreciated her words.

"My aunt told me I was like a strawberry bush because of my naturally red face," she giggled, lightly patting her cheeks. They were almost cherry red from the cold (and definitely not at all from her shyness). "Strawberries are my favorite fruit, actually. They go well with almost any dessert, and best of all, they never have to be pealed," she said, patting her tummy a couple times. Just talking about it made her crave some.

She’d been taken aback at the other girl’s words. Never had someone complimented her like that. ”thanks...” she didn’t mean for it to sound quiet, but she was quite astonished. Astonished that one would think so positively of her. ”I’m only like this because I’ve always tried to hide myself. Like a chameleon, maybe.”

Her eyes grew warmer whenever she saw Phoebe smile. She’d made someone smile. It felt like a milestone, making someone except Victor happy. Koko had some sort of an exuberant glow to the smile she wore, and it definitely wasn’t fake.

When Phoebe brought up her favorite fruit, Koko was mildly excited to have something she could go on and on about—however, she wouldn’t. ”My favorite fruits are blackberries. Especially the big sweet ones,” she added happily. In fact, if she was stranded on a desert island with only one type of food, she would prefer blackberries to anything else. She let go of Phoebe, for fear that the girl would think her too clingy, or something else, and scooted back against the wall of the stable, resting her head against the rickety wood. She didn’t care if she got splinters in her hair. ”Well,” she said after a moment of pause, ”Slytherin’s in the lead for the House Cup! Are you excited about that?” Koko had only seen a notice about it earlier, but it spurred her competitive instinct and she was going to try to get a few more points for her House, if she could. A warm ambition filled her inside, as well as a fierce loyalty to her House, her friends. She would do almost anything for them.

Although Phoebe didn't particularly mind it, she found the absence of additional warmth a little unpleasant. She decided to join the girl, leaning against the wall next to her. She closed her eyes, listening to everything around her.

"If I'm being honest, I don't really care much for competition. I've never felt the need to prove I am better than someone or where I belong is better than where others belong. I also haven't really felt the need to obtain prizes for my efforts. It's probably because I just don't understand it. However, one of my passions is seeing others happy, so I'm pleased to see our house members smile when they earn points," she said. "Of course, I earn points, but they just come naturally," she said, unknowingly sounding cocky.

Phoebe's mind went back to Koko mentioning her trying to hide herself. "I do that, too," she said. "I don't know about you, but I tend to act like I'm alright when the reality is quite the opposite. It could be that I don't want others to worry about me since I don't like to attract very much attention, but it could also be that I don't want others to look down on me."

Phoebe brought her legs up to her chest and hugged them, trying to trap in some warmth. She watched the steam escape through her lips, amused.

Not being competitive must be nice, sometimes... The thought hadn’t had much of a chance to pass through her head before she shivered in the cold, bitter wind. At least it wasn’t hot. While she was fine with the weather, Koko hated the actual heat, for various reasons that did happen to include her seventh birthday... something she didn’t want to remember.

Closing her eyes, leaning against the wall, and exhaling softly, Koko felt herself relax. She listened to the other girl agree about hiding emotions, something Koko realized she’d been doing ever since that one birthday, maybe even before, and she knew exactly why she did it: she didn’t want attention. Attention always led to some sort of bullying for her, and Koko didn’t want to seem like a target.

A good target she was, but her avoidant personality hardly put her in the path of any arrows, as young Koko hated to socialize, therefore involuntarily saving herself from many terrible situations. While she’d been in various other sticky circumstances, she hoped against getting into any more—but she was likely hated by at least one student in the school. That was the way things worked with her. She’d try to make a good impression and then end up saying or doing something stupid that made her seem absolutely terrible and then made everyone else hate her. No wonder she liked being alone, she thought as she contemplated everything that may have been counted as a wrongdoing.

”Nor do I,” Koko said meekly, and after she let the words out she opened her eyes. ”About the attention. And the worrying. But I don’t really care what people think of me; I mean, my family hates me, how much worse can it get?” Her voice, usually seemingly coated with honey, seemed as whip-thin as the lashes of the wind, laced with a touch of bitterness and a sprinkle of longing. Longing for a little bit of love. Bitterness at the love that never was.

Koko found Phoebe very interesting, not only in the few things that we was finding out through speech, but also in the other girl’s mannerisms. Phoebe didn’t seem to be able, or want to, sit still for a minute. Phoebe seemed to be happy when at times she could almost noticeably (at least to Koko, who had spent years learning how to read emotions in the subtlest of movements) be aching inside. Koko wasn’t sure why, but she didn’t want to see Phoebe ache like that. Perhaps they really were friends...

A small sigh broke Koko’s sealed lips, looking like clouds in the frigid air. The straw in the stables was actually very comfortable, and Koko ended up sliding down until she lay on the straw piled on the ground, staring up at the rickety wooden roof. She’d gotten straw in her hair, and one bit had found a way into her mouth. Not that she really cared; she was also too lazy to do anything about it, so she just let it dangle out of her thin, chapped lips as a small, content smile spread across them. ”so... what do you do in your free time?” Koko asked through her teeth, as to not choke on the bit of straw, as she propped her head up on her arms, resting them under her head. A bit of the straw began to poke at her arm, so she wriggled and squirmed until it stopped, and then she lay there, looking up, and seeing her breath float up like smoke out of a chimney.