Closed Free Falling PV Evpraksiya Vinogradova

xxxxxxxx𝕲, F, E♭, F, G, B♭, A♭, G.

It was a faint buzzing in her ear she could never (never would want to rid herself of. Would hearing the sounds of their latest composition be considered a curse or a blessing to others? How was she- someone who'd never been without that constant rhythm— supposed to say one way or the other?

The afternoon’s warmth had added a faint flush to her porcelain cheeks, but her posture remained as poised as ever while Evpraksiya was ascending the staircase with careful grace, her pale hands holding leather-bound tomes (she honestly couldn't quite understand why Hogwarts hadn't replaced them with newer transcriptions) against her chest. Her thoughts were elsewhere— on the composition she had been drafting in her music room, notes haunting in her mind.

So distracted was the youngest Vinogradova, that she didn't register the sudden movement of the staircase until it was too late. A flurry of motion above grasped her attention— papers, flailing limbs, and then the terribly jarring sensation of impact. Caught off guard by the sound impact, her teeth sinking into her lip as she collided with the boy descending toward disaster, her books slipping from her grip and scattering around them.

The two of them tumbled in an undignified heap, landing in a sprawl of robes and loose parchment. Evpraksiya blinked, momentarily dazed, before her serene smile slipped neatly into place, masking the raging irritation flickering in her chest.

❝Well,❞ she said softly, her tone syrupy sweet, ❝it seems the staircase was feeling particularly capricious today.❝ She sat up with as much grace as one could muster after taking that harsh tumble, her hands smoothing her robes, glassy sacremento eyes curving into crescent moons as she smiled.

Fingers smoothed from years at the piano reached for a fallen parchment near her feet. She held it up between them, tilting her head slightly as though studying both the paper and the boy who had caused this mishap. Her brow furrowed slightly as the familiar taste of copper filled her mouth. This— this was frankly ridiculous. Most students only feel from the stairs once in their academic career and that was only if they were of a particularly reckless nature. She however, as part of the Vinogradova family should have been far above that. Not fall in exactly the same place twice! What lunacy caused this? Nesrecha must enjoy tormenting her in particular.

The memory of her own tumble from the moving staircases just days ago surfaced rather unpleasantly at those thoughts- no matter, she repressed them down. It was not a memory to hold in mind when she was interacting with someone who'd done no... intentional harm to her judgement. She brushed an invisible speck of dust from her robes and offered a knowing, albeit faintly amused, smile.

❝Are you alright?❞ she asked, her voice a careful melody of concern and formality. Her lips curved in a soft smile, though her gaze lingered for a fraction longer on the dye stain on his wrist— an artist perhaps? ❝I must admit, of all things— I didn't anticipate playing the role of a cushion today.❞

❝Although—,❞ she began, extending her hand once more to help Mamori to his feet, ❝Considering that I've fallen from the same stairs, I won't tell.❞ Her smile turned admonished as she continued, ❝The landing never does become anymore pleasant.❞