Beauty and the Books PV ⇉ R. Parker Closed

He nearly laughed out loud at her insistence that he was interesting. How could someone like him, so bland and boring, be interesting? Was he interesting because he was mysterious? Was he interesting because he was Asian, and that always seemed to be an intriguing topic for people? Was he interesting because he was a two-faced liar who couldn't commit to a persona? Was it all of the above?

"China is... it's beautiful," he murmured, folding his hands in his lap, his legs slowly swinging back and forth. "I don't think there's anywhere quite like it." How could you explain a culture so ancient and so diverse in a matter of sentences? Chinese history stretched back thousands and thousands of years, and its empire lasted through everything- from Babylonia, through Rome, past the Mayans and the Aztecs. Each region of China was even further diversified, with different dialects, different food, different people. Even if you gave him twenty years to travel his homeland, he wouldn't be able to see it all.

He flushed as he realized that indeed, the tea would be spilled (metaphorically) in such an open and honest game. But, he wanted to get to know Rosie a little better before they were inevitably yelled at for sitting on the tables, and homework would pull him back to his obligations and responsibilities. For now, he would cherish the time he would be able to spend learning about the sweet Hufflepuff sitting next to him.

He filed her birthday away in the back of his mind, although he would have to write it down later if he wanted to truly remember it. April 2nd... a spring month, to match the happy, bubbly attitude and positive mindset. How fitting it was. "I'm turning twelve on November 26." He, of course, just had to be born on the cusp of winter- the first snow had already fallen, people were sick of the cold, and most people just wished November would be over, already.

"I think that counts as your question." Biting his lip, Elijah's hands twitched as he dug around for another question, trying not too seem to shallow or to ask surface-questions that weren't any fun. "If you had to change your name..." he said slowly, thoughtfully. "What would you change it to?"

A name said a lot about a person. For instance, Rosie. There was an 80% chance that it was a nickname, considering that it was rather childish and exuded a sense of innocence- that it was derived from an old-timey name, like Rose or Rosa. Parker was, of course, a European name- certainly not French, certainly not Asian, and almost definitely not German or Spanish. Was he being stereotypical? Sure. Was he being truthful? Definitely.

The prospect of being able to talk to Rosie even after their little game brought warmth to his heart. Besides, she had said that China was "cool"; and while that was the biggest understatement of the century, he would let it slide. He wanted to take her there, show her the place where he had skinned his knee on the 长城, where his sister had dropped her camera into the 黄河; of course, he knew that it was quite unlikely that something like this would ever happen, but a boy could always dream.

He let her full name sink in- Rosalina, reminiscent of older times and reminding him of pale, pink roses; Lynn, short and sweet; Evangeline, like Evangeline Lily, another actress in the Lord of the Rings franchise; and Parker, her last name. People who had first names for both their first and last names had always confused him, but now, it made sense- it was a good pairing, especially for Rosie. They flowed well together and blended into a perfect human.

Ah, so people didn't take her seriously... Well, if he had to be honest, most names ending in the "ie" or "y" sound had a tendency to sound rather childish, but maybe that wasn't always a bad thing. If people assumed that you were childish and innocent, you could get away with doing more things... although perhaps Rosie wasn't the type of person to do that.

He blinked at her question, and pondered it for a good minute. He wasn't accustomed to eating as many sweets as other children were, instead, having fruits be normalized as his "dessert". However, he, like any normal kid his age, did have a penchant for sweets, and had devoured many a pint of ice cream over a football game. "Mint chocolate chip," he said firmly, nodding with a smile. "I know it sounds a little basic, but it's quite delectable during the summer."

What did he want to know more of about Rosie? She was such a three-dimensional person, with history and feelings and thoughts plunging further into herself than most people. He was afraid that even if they remained friends for life, he wouldn't be able to see it all. "Who's your closest friend? Here, at Hogwarts?" It was, of course, a good place to start. If you wanted to know someone, you looked at their friends- how they treated each other, what type of relationship they had, etcetera, etcetera.

But what is beauty? The dictionary describes it as 'a combination of qualities that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially sight', but Elijah had a feeling that it ran deeper than that. Beauty was in everything; it was in the way the sunlight hit the bookshelves at just the right angle, it was in the pink socks on his feet. It was in the way his mother made dumplings, it was in the way that Rosie smiled at him. There was beauty in everything, and perhaps by default, everything was beautiful.

He watched Rosie think about the question out of the corner of his eye, the way her thoughts were projected onto her face. Where on him, it made him look weak and vulnerable, on her it just seemed so... so natural, so right. Was there beauty in vulnerability, too? He had never thought so- he had been raised in a household where anything and everything could be used against you. But Rosie... she simply seemed to break all the laws of nature.

This wasn't fair.

Even after all of that thinking, Rosie proceeded to dodge his question. He couldn't tell if it was because she didn't have anyone she was particularly close to, or that there were too many of them. However, he was willing to bet that it was the latter. Someone as lovely and bubbly as she was couldn't possibly not have friends, let alone have enemies.

He could feel his face flush at her accidental slip, and he replayed his new nickname over and over again in his head. Eli... well, his sister had tried to call him that once, but he had immediately shot down her efforts. But coming from Rosie, it sounded good- not as childish as it might've been coming from someone else. In fact, it kind of matched her name, with the slightly childish ending.

But how on earth did it fit him? He was the last person to be called "cute", should you look at him- no, more regal and mature than anything else. Did he really come off as cute to her? He really didn't know how to take it. He couldn't turn her down, though- no, not this sweet girl who had dropped everything to talk to him. "Yes, that's perfectly alright," he said graciously with a genuine smile.

Swinging his legs, he searched for a question to ask her. As she paused after her small outburst, it was clear that the confirmation to use his new nickname was her question. Biting the corner of his lip for a moment, he finally asked, "Do you like being a prefect?"

How could she say that? How could she say that she didn't feel like she got taken seriously? Or, more accurately, which idiots didn't take her seriously? Strong fighting words, but Elijah meant every one of them. He would've taken her every word as gospel if it came to that, but it didn't really surprise him that she wasn't taken as seriously as she would've liked. Her lightheartedness, her constant happiness, was a refreshing outlook on the world he decided that not a lot of people possessed- surely, her perspective was taken into consideration and used? Maybe humans were more idiotic than he originally thought them to believe. 

How completely, utterly disappointing of them.

He smiled reluctantly in acknowledgment of her pointing out of his seemingly unnatural maturity. "I'm not actually tall for my age," he pointed out, glancing at his feet. "I'm only just above average, actually- maybe a centimetre taller, at most." You're just adorably short, he wanted to add, but he felt that her height was a topic that was commented on a lot, and he assumed that she was pretty sick of it. She was also fairly correct in guessing that he wasn't a pushover- or, internally, he wasn't. He went with the flow, however, in bigger settings, like in the classroom- standing out had never been his goal. Blending in, however, was.

He took in her question slowly, not really sure how to answer it. "Ballet is cool," he commented, if only to buy him some time in crafting his answer. He didn't know how much to tell Rosie, how much would be considered "too much"- for him, everything was "too much". "I saw one once- a ballet, that is. The Nutcracker, I think it was... yes, that was it." 

He could vaguely remember girls, all seemingly identical in their white tights and tightly pulled back hair, combed meticulously into tight buns. Even the boys wore tights, which he had laughed at, at first. He had remembered how only one of the girls had had ebony hair, like his, and how everyone else had had brown or blonde hair, and how he had thought how unfair that was.

"My mother insisted that I learn how to dance," Elijah finally decided on saying, scratching the back of his hand thoughtfully. "She had apparently decided that no child of hers, especially a son, was to make a fool of her reputation on the dance floor, after Celestine spilled a glass of water on a gentleman at a wedding. I could make it through a ball, sure, but I'm not nearly as talented as a ballerina like yourself.

"Could you show me some? Ballet, I mean."

If he had to group Rosie into a character troupe, he would definitely plop her into the "manic pixie girl plus daisies" category, if such a troupe ever existed. The manic pixie girl, of course, was a reference to her absolute spontaneity- the way she seemed to let her thoughts jump from her head to her mouth without a single drop of hesitation, the way she smiled like she would never get the chance to be happy again. She wasn't completely manic nor a pixie, however, but reminded him of the fairies he had been told stories about as a child, the ones in the forest that flitted about the nature around them, just appreciating what was there without having to read into everything.

The way she got so flustered was so adorable- it was almost like watching a two-month-old puppy try and climb the stairs for the first time. Except, less pathetic. Because two-month-old puppies were pathetic. That's all there was to it. No arguments, no disputation- he didn't want to hear it. Even two-month-old babies were pathetic. Two-month-old anythings were pathetic! It was just fact- totally not his biased opinion.

Ducking his head and smiling bashfully as Rosie poked at him, he laughed lightly, a sound that was fairly unfamiliar and unnatural to him. Somehow, however, Rosie managed to draw every last drop of joyous noise out of him, perhaps even rivaling Celestine in that aspect. Nudging her gently, teasingly with his shoulder, the corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. "If I wanted to learn how to dance ballet, I would've signed up for the club specifically designated for it. No, I want to see you dance, Miss Rosie Parker." He gestured for her to slide off the table, the floor in front of their table spacious enough to accommodate whatever space Rosie needed.

"Come on. Impress me. Astonish me."

The smile following was gentle and persuasive, his expression clearly nudging her to show something to him. It was pretty clear that although he wanted her to perform, he wouldn't be upset with her if she chose not to. It was her decision, after all- her body, her talent, her choice. Besides, now he was getting really into this conversation, and really didn't want to have to go back to doing his super boring homework. Rosie was so much more interesting than his homework, and he didn't want to stop talking to her.

If anything, Elijah just wanted to impress Rosie. To win her favor, to gain her admiration. She was like a celebrity that he, a commoner, wanted to gain the attention of, which was pretty sad. He was his own person! He didn't need someone else's approval! But, for Rosie, he would make an exception.