Beauty and the Books PV ⇉ R. Parker Closed

Ooh. The hair was going up, and the you-know-what was going down. A genuinely excited expression settled onto Elijah's facial muscles as he felt his body course with anticipation, the "happy chemicals" in his mind building themselves up. He had read about them a while ago, about dopamine and oxytocin and endorphin and serotonin... He felt happy, now, when he was watching Rosie smile and clearly having fun. Gosh, was this what being a parent felt like? He was happy that Rosie was happy, which is what Celestine had claimed was the only way parents could ever feel happy, by living through their children's happiness.

Her feet were only clad in socks when she began to dance, an impressive series of twirls and spins and leaps. Even without any music playing, Rosie still managed to capture all of his attention, her dance routine captivating. He oohed and aahed at the appropriate moments, although they were entirely genuine. He couldn't understand how someone's feet and legs could work together to create such beautiful and fluid movements, although he assumed that football must've looked that way to normal bystanders.

Different people, different skill sets. He supposed that was the beauty of the human race, how everyone was good at different things in different amounts and at different times. He was good at lying, Rosie was good at being a soft little marshmallow of a human, his sister was good at being the top candidate for world president. That was just how things were.

Elijah clapped as loudly and wildly as he dared, what with their being in a library. Rosie was smiling widely, and the sun shone through her radiating expression. "Absolutely marvelous," he declared, grinning back at the prefect. Her happiness was infectious, and he found himself smiling before he could even register the action.

He hadn't realized that figure of authority could have this much fun- although, with Rosie, wasn't anything possible? "Certainly much better than I could ever do," he continued, commending her on her outstanding performance. "My legs were made for running, not... leaping." 

Tugging on the hems of his sleeves, he fished around in that massive brain of his for something else to say. With all of the words he knew, and all of the white lies he let slip so easily from his silver tongue, it was odd that he was ever at a loss for words. At Hogwarts, however, he found that this normally rare occurrence was steadily becoming more and more frequent, which was absolutely infuriating. It took four seconds for a silence to become awkward, he couldn't let that happen...

"You really do enjoy dancing, don't you?" Well, that much was clearly obvious. Even the most obtuse, thick-headed ignoramus could get that. "Did your parents teach you?"

Elijah shuddered as Rosie took his in hands in hers, not used to physical contact with other people. But, his already-present smile widened, showing that he wasn't freaked out about it, merely slightly surprised. He nodded, agreeing with her words, and stopped clapping as Rosie pressed his palms together with her own hands. It was rather amusing to him to see how much bigger his hands were compared to hers, even though she was a good deal older than him. But no matter, it simply meant that all of her goodwill was more concentrated than it was in other people- more good feelings in a smaller body meant a higher density and concentration of those good vibes. Wasn't that how science worked?

His gaze drifted over to Rosie's hair as she took out the cloth hairband (what was it called, again?) holding her hair back. He cracked a smile as she pondered over his word choice, to which Elijah merely shrugged. How could anyone stoop to describe her dancing as anything less than 'absolutely marvelous'? That was the very least anyone was allowed to say about Rosie- anything else below that would have to have a conversation with Elijah and one of his signature scowls, accompanied by a harsh glare rivaling even that of, perhaps, McGonagall herself. Although athletic and lean, Elijah was the last person to get into a physical fight with anyone. He loathed using his fists, choosing to believe that if a situation couldn't be solved with words, it couldn't be solved at all. It exasperated his sister to no end to come home and see her little brother sitting on the ground right by the front door, trying to coax a beetle or a fly out the front door, gently encouraging them to return to the outside world.

Ballerinas with long legs... Rosie mentioned teenage girls being in her classes, and Elijah immediately got the sense that Rosie was good. Incredibly good, especially for her age. Well, of course, that had already been shown when Rosie had performed her little routine, but if she had teenagers in her class, that certainly had to say something about her skills. He couldn't imagine moving your arms and legs and feet, all coordinated and together like ballet required. Truly, he held ballerinas in the highest esteem... not that Rosie had anything to do with it, of course Not at all.

He immediately regretted bringing up ballet again once he saw Rosie's expression when she mentioned her mom. It was clearly a sore topic for the normally cheery girl, but he began to piece together Rosie's background a little bit. She had a mom, a biological mom... but her father was gay. Her mother either died or left her father after she found out, and her father remarried. He tried to banish the pity that was surfacing, certain that Rosie didn't want people feeling sorry for her, but he just couldn't help it. No one should have to watch their parents go through all of that, and then have to suffer whatever side effects washed their way.

Rosie quickly changed the topic, however, so Elijah was saved from the embarrassment of having to say anything. He nodded furtively at her question, wondering in the back of his mind who this friend was. Not many people knew how to waltz at their age, so he could only wonder why their parents would've wanted them to learn how to waltz. "Yes... my mother wanted me to learn how to waltz, even if it was only to impress my grandparents. My 奶奶, my grandmother, she loves ballroom dancing," Elijah said quietly, not sure why that memory, in particular, came to mind so quickly. He could remember dancing with his grandmother in her tiny kitchen, his grandfather sitting down watching and clapping as the two waltzed around the room, the tinny sound of Chinese singers ringing from the ancient radio perched on the windowsill by the sink. "My mother taught me, but I- my grandmother is the one who dances with me the most, I'd think.

"... Rosie, would you like to dance?" he asked quietly, glancing shyly at Rosie. It was the furthest thing from romantic, of course- they were both too young, far too young to think of things like these, and a dance in the library didn't exactly spark any tension. Unless, of course, the two decided to head off to the ballroom, in which case, that was an entirely different matter. "My turn to impress," he added, trying for a joke, although he didn't know how well it came off. He might've sounded pompous or overly confident, which he never wanted to sound like. Those people were rich and spoiled, and had rude manners, to boot. His mother would've never approved.

Reducio

What do you mean this is late you must be going mad :p