Another Student Scared of Sleep Closed

@Kaegen Deathmote

The instant Jack felt the overbearing aura begin to recede, the Slytherin uttered a quiet groan and dropped to his knees, trying to catch a wall with a hand to steady and support himself against it somewhat. His limbs continued to tremble in the aftermath of the intense, instinctual fear that had gripped his already-weak body.

If the other boy hadn't relented in his silent attack, Jack was fairly certain he would have been unconscious by then with how strong a strain his stubborn will had put on keeping himself standing instead of turning tail and running. The fact that the stranger's peculiar force had abated, however, gave Jack new encouragement. Despite the continued hostility in the other young man's response, perhaps something Jack had said had actually resonated with the older student.

Though he took a moment to regain his breath and wait for his heart rate to subside a little, the redhead was soon at the debate once again.

"...If my reality is no more a lie than yours, then why bother trying to impose upon mine your own convictions?" he wanted to know, still panting between words, but less so than before. Hazel eyes struggled to find the ardent gray irises of before.

"Fine; let's say I don't want to meet you since 'you know this much'. After all, it seems I already have. But what I know is that I would like to get to know you - as the person you are, not the monster you may think others take you to be."

Though his grin had long since collapsed, Jack's gaze remained determined. The mention of 'friends' caused him to set his jaw, eyes hardening and the line of his mouth thinning.

"I would know," he told his senior confidently. "Me, a mudblood who does everything I can to connect with others without falling prey to the trap that is labeled friendship. Friends are for masochists and those whose own lives matter little if anything to them. I am neither."

His brows narrowed. "As I was saying, there are always other perspectives; other ways of seeing and accomplishing things. There are methods for keeping loneliness at bay with the company of others who aren't friends. Enemies, for example, work just as well if not better. At least you don't have to have any concerns about them turning on you like so-called friends might.

"Your meaning to enemies may not be pretty or heart-warming, but you still mean something to them enough to occupy their thoughts and perhaps even dominate their mind. Wouldn't you call that preferable to the lonesome, miserable existence of being subjected to everyone's indifference?" Jack's lips quirked in a partial smirk.

"I've made it a point not to delude myself with concepts as faulty as friendship. That doesn't mean I resign myself to being alone. You don't have to, either. So why do you?" He cocked his head at the noiret. "With the way you've been talking, it doesn't sound as though that's what you want."

At last, Jack attempted to hold out his hand once more. "I make my own logic and I make it work for me," he told his fellow schoolmate seriously. "It applies wherever I have the wit and will to apply it. Anything is possible if you only allow yourself to see the possibilities. From what I can tell, if anything or anyone is imprisoning you, it's yourself - perhaps because you see yourself as some being that others must be protected from."

It was then that the Slytherin's countenance softened. "My offer is valid to you because in this moment, it was made and meant for you and you alone. Therefore, there is no one it would be valid for except you. You behave as though I am willing to waste my time or associate with just anyone, but I'd appreciate it if you gave me at least some credit."

With a small sigh, the boy decided to do something that may have been a trifle to others, but was quite a nerve-wracking stunt for him. He attempted to initiate an introduction on his own without prompting.

"I'm not wrong. I'm...Jack Burnett," he said with some difficulty and minor hesitation, as if granting his name so freely had condemned him to a particularly regrettable fate. "What's your name?" he followed up. "Unless you'd prefer to answer the previous question I asked - about if you think you could tolerate your prison with decent company. Couldn't help but notice that you neglected to give me a reply to it." He quirked a brow at the other boy. "Can't help but wonder now if that was intentional."

"Not a person. Never was one, and I certainly won't be one in the future. There's nothing human here for you to get to know. Do you feel the need to eat others of your kind? If the answer is no, then we're not even the same species. A passing resemblance doesn't mean there's anything here for you to meet."

Kaegen was starting to get unnerved. There something in the other boy's eyes that would not back down, would not give an inch, refused to accept the reality Kaegen kept placing between them like a shield. There was power, in those eyes, those eyes that had been scared, those eyes that probably still were. A power that was entirely lacking in his own castle of avarice, a power lacking in himself.

There were a couple terms that Kaegen didn't quite understand. Mudblood was used in a derogatory way, he knew, but he had never really had it explained to him. Like, what was that, really. And what was a masochist? It seemed fairly reasonable to believe that a masochist was the next step up from mudblood. Degrees of insult, degrees of worthless. The determined soul in front of him was telling him that he was bad, but not bad enough to subject himself to friendship. That made sense.

What was worse, this boy was making sense. Why did Kaegen care who entered his world and who didn't? Why bother protecting anyone? Why not have company? Friends betrayed you, left you to die. But some random person you hung out with? Was it even possible for someone to whom you owed no allegiance and who owed you nothing in return to truly betray? No, no it wasn't.

"I tried to be around people. Before. That's how I got-"

Kaegen paused. Was it considered exposing a weak spot to tell someone you had a scar? Were scars weaknesses? Well, not that he knew of, but it was probably best to stay on the safe side. Why reveal more than he had to, right?

But when the hand was extended, he found himself tempted. Why not take it, anyway? Somewhere deep inside Kaegen's scarred heart there was a little boy, there was love and loneliness and hurt. At his core, he was far from a monster. At his core, Kaegen loved animals, he loved clouds and fog and plants and watching someone's face smile. But those were feelings that hadn't been touched in so long he had entirely forgotten them. But just because something was forgotten didn't mean it was gone. And that hand was a chance to have someone. Not a friend, but someone.

Kaegen's hand was about halfway there when it paused. It was stopped by pride, by the other boy finishing his sentence. Imprisoned by himself? No, that couldn't be right, he refused to let that be right. Was all of this his own fault? Was he torturing himself to protect others? To protect people he didn't care about, people that loathed him, people that caused his hate to flare bright enough to dim the lights around him? Was he truly a fool, an idealistic hero repeating the mistakes of his past? No. He couldn't be. Kaegen's hand fell back down to his side, gaze hardening for a moment as he offered his counter.

"Are you saying I chose this? That I chose this again? I protect no one."



"Fine. Valid, then. If I accepted your offer, if I let you touch my reality more than I already have, what would happen. Tell me what the future holds for two people who exist together."

He noticed the hesitation, but it was hard for him to understand what it meant. Was that a sign of lying, was this boy, this jack, lying to him? It didn't matter, he would choose his own name for jack, given time. He froze, stiffened when jack pointed out how he had dodged the previous question. He had been caught, called out, exposed, and he didn't know how to react. It took him a solid second before the wide eyes calmed a little, leaning in to his response.

"Kaegen Deathmote, fens-born. Master of the castle of avarice, monster of-
...um, just-"

He faltered, for a moment. Froze and stumbled. Why, why would he do that, this didn't make sense, this hurt. He had been called out, dragged out into the open, ripped from his covers again and again by what felt like a mountain of a boy.

"Kaegen. Just Kaegen. You don't- actually live in the light. Do you."

He dodged the question. Again.