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I can't hide, I've got ice cream!; Cy Andrews
Topic Started: May 6 2007, 02:41 PM (1,280 Views)
Eris Ayano
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4th Year Ravenclaw
Much as she loved her mother, the fourteen year old could only take so much. It had taken several hours of persuasion for her to make her escape, and even at that, Eris Ayano suspected her mother had only let her out because she had a deadline, and her daughter could be quite irritating when bored. Still, Eris was out, for two long days of freedom. True, there were several conditions to her liberation; the girl had to stay at her sister's (where she wasn't allowed to so much unlock the dog without either Theia or Theia's dog, Cian, present), sift through the mountain of summer homework she had remaining, and she wasn't allowed to simply wander about. It was at times like these Eris wondered if her mother remembered that she wasn't ten.

Rule number two was already broken - she'd left all her schoolwork in the room she and Ianthe were sharing at The Leaky Cauldron - and she was well on her way to breaking rule number three as well. True, she wasn't wandering per se, simply taking a much longer route to Thee's Hackney apartment, a perfectly logical thing to do mid-afternoon on a sunny Friday.

“Sunny and hot,” the fourth year complained to herself, weaving her way between tourists. Save for her trips between King's Cross Station and The Leaky Cauldron, this was only her second time in muggle London, and despite the heat and the fact that her bag weighed almost as much as a small elephant (she had never been one to pack light), the brunette couldn't stop from smiling as she took in the sites.

Eventually, her enjoyment turned to irritation at the fact that her new flip-flops seemed to have something against her (at least, if the large blister appearing on her foot was any indication), Eris sank down onto a bench, eyeing the ice cream cart that seemed impossibly far away. Eventually, however, hunger won over sore feet, and the Ravenclaw found herself strolling towards the ice cream cart.

A few moments later, she returned once more to her seat on the bench, four large scoops of strawberry ice cream in tow. The cart operator had looked at her like she was mad when Eris had ordered. The girl, average in height, had a frame that usually lead people to believe she was on some sort of diet, when in reality, it was quite the opposite - the fourteen year old had a seemingly bottomless stomach, eating accordingly in hopes the Brest Fairy might one day show up. This seemed to be an impossible quest.

As she licked at her ice cream, dark eyes scanned the scene around her. About twenty yards away, two men - one of them a wizard, if the wand sticking out of his back pocket was any indication; the other an American - seemed to be arguing over which was the real football, the one the Americans called ‘soccer’, or the one in which they strapped on pads and a helmet and went about throwing themselves at each other. Disinterested, her eyes continued. ‘Rather boring, really,’ she couldn't help but think. Brown eyes stopped briefly on a familiar figure, moving on once more when he couldn't be identified.

The same eyes snapped back, however, as the figure came a few feet closer. Though she didn't know him particularly well, Eris knew this was the same boy she had met in Diagon Alley the other day. This was not good.

Her first impulse was to hide. Unfortunately, unless she wanted to crawl under a bench, that plan would fail - especially given that she had both a bag and ice cream cone with her. Nor was running an option.

“Oh goodie.”

[OOC: yeah, It sucks >.<]
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Cy Andrews
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4th Year Student
Cy was bored. It had been two days since his last conversation of any importance, besides quick orders to the bartender. A social creature by nature, the solitude didn’t sit well with him. He couldn’t bring himself to converse with anyone, however. Every person he saw was just so disinteresting, and he had a hard time understanding why he should bother speaking to anyone. Such a thing had never happened to him before, and, when he took the time to think about his predicament, it perplexed him. After some thought, though, he realized what must have been the cause of his lack of interest, and, after realizing it, knew that it was obvious. Really, who would want to talk to any normal person when the last person they’d conversed with had been so amazing? So radiant?

Eris.

He’d looked the name up during some of his abundant free-time. Eris, the Greek goddess of discord and chaos. The name suited her; she was, most definitely, worthy to be a deity, if appearance was taken into consideration. The chaos part wasn’t far from the truth, either. You had only to look at Cy’s behavior to see what a number her brief appearance had done on him. Although he looked as fit, casual, and handsome as ever, anyone who knew Cy could tell that something was occupying his mind. Eris. A Ravenclaw.

She said that she was staying at the Leaky Cauldron, but Cy hadn’t run into her again yet, which he thought was odd. He sat in the pub for most of the day, waiting for some sign, wondering to himself what she might be like. He wondered about what seemed to most trivial things, like her middle name, if she had pets, what her favorite colors were. In short, he was quickly becoming obsessed.

On the third day, he decided that he couldn’t wait in the Leaky Cauldron for his goddess forever, no matter how much he might want to. He picked out some decent-looking clothing—just in case he happened to run into her. He’d been doing the same for the past few days, and was afraid that soon he might run out of his best outfits and be forced to wear something odd, which, knowing his luck, would be the day he finally ran into her. He’d also spent a while working on his hair and washing his face before he’d left, once again, just in case. When he’d finally been satisfied with his appearance, he’d left the building somewhere around ten, venturing out into Muggle London.

He’d ended up wearing a light blue, short-sleeved t-shirt, covered by a loose, open button-up shirt of a darker shade, and a pair of dark blue jeans. After only a few minutes in the sun, he was starting to regret this choice—spending two days inside had made him forget the insane heat of London in August. Still, he couldn’t change without going back to the pub, and he’d already walked far enough that he figured that would be a waste of time.

Cy had started off on a typical tourist route through central London, but the crowd had only intensified the heat of the midday sun, so he’d soon found himself ducking in and out of alleys, jumping back fences to avoid the main streets, and loitering on forgotten porches. He gained a smudge of black dirt on his right cheek, but he was unaware of the fact. He was actually starting to forget the terror of a conversation he’d shared with that beautiful girl two days before by the time he arrived at Leicester Square. This was about the middle of his romp he’d planned. After this he was swinging by a few parks, then heading back to the Leaky Cauldron. So far he hadn’t meant anyone discussion-worthy, but at least he’d pushed Eris out of his mind, if only slightly.

He took a few steps closer to the square, which wasn’t as nearly as crowded as he’d expected, and scanned it, looking for a person interesting enough to hold his attention for more than a minute. His bright blue eyes scanned over two men arguing about something—best not to interrupt that—an ice cream vendor—Cy had no money on him—and a bench beside a fountain, occupied with a very familiar-looking girl.

A very beautiful, very familiar looking girl.

Oh no. He thought to himself, his eyes lingering on her thin figure. She was sitting gracefully on the whitewashed bench, a huge, pink cone of ice cream clutched in one hand. I’m not ready for this, what do I say? Why would I run into her here, now? Maybe she isn’t here… maybe I’m just so delusional that I’m imagining her. He blinked twice, trying to see if the gorgeous mirage faded and drifted away.

She didn’t.

Aaaah, what do I say? She probably doesn’t want to talk to me again, after what happened, but I want to talk to her. If I have to think about her all the time and never talk to her, I’ll die. I have to talk to her, it might be my only chance before Hogwarts. And even then, who knows? I have to talk to her. But what to say? Aaaah! I—I’ll think of something, he thought definitely, half trying to convince himself. With a deep breath, he began to take a few steps forward. They were carefully casual steps, as if he wasn’t anxious about the meeting at all. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that he was walking straight towards her bench, someone might have thought he hadn’t seen her at all.

He drew closer, closer, his mind racing nervously. He stopped just outside normal conversation distance, as if he were afraid that Eris might suddenly lunge out and attack him. He floated there, nervous, frightened, and ecstatic all at once. Moving on hand to the pocket of his jeans and slipping it inside, he started out with a very noncommittal, “Hey.”


[OOC: Not at all. =D]
CREEPYSTALKERAHHHHH!
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Eris Ayano
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4th Year Ravenclaw
“Hey.”

It was strange how one word, one syllable, even, could completely annihilate any hope of Cy not noticing her - or alternatively, if he did, fleeing like a lunatic. Wasn't one awkward conversation enough for him? How many times did she have to threaten to maim him with a fork? She sighed inwardly. Eris had been sure after their last meeting that he'd simply avoid her entirely. Clearly, this would not be the case.

“Oh. You,” she replied absently.

It was doubtful that it would be the response he was looking for, but to the Ravenclaw it seemed far more polite than not replying at all (what she would have preferred), and more honest than rambling about ‘How lovely it was to see him!’. Still, she knew the words would probably come across as cold, but Eris no longer cared. After all, she had made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with him. Actually, she'd run away, however she was certain that her excuse was so flimsy he'd have had to be a blind goldfish not to see through it.

The fourth year glanced at him, squinting slightly as the sun was right in front of her. Though he was nowhere near as twitchy (the girl couldn't find a better word for it) as he had the day in Caidy's, the Hufflepuff boy still projected a mild air of anxiousness that his tone hadn't revealed. This lead her to wonder what she herself must look like - while her current state of mind was well hidden behind a nonchalant facade, her eyes, as always, were likely displaying her strong desire to be somewhere else. ANYWHERE else.

“Didn't expect to see you again before school started.”

That much was perfectly honest. She hadn't thought she'd be seeing Cy again before returning to Hogwarts, and had hoped he'd avoid her even then. With that in mind, the situation before her was a bit of a letdown. It wasn't so much that she didn't like him (he seemed nice enough, at least). Rather, she found his... whatever it was, with her somewhat unnerving. Eris did not like to be unnerved, no sir.

Somewhat self-consciously, she returned her attentions once more to her ice cream. Ice cream was fairly constant. True, there were some bizarre flavors out there, but few of them would stick around to socialize after being threatened with a pointy utensil, and fewer still would develop some sort of crush on her.

Brilliant idea, Ayano,’ she thought, almost laughing despite herself. ‘Personify your dessert of choice. That's not odd at all.
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Cy Andrews
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4th Year Student
“Oh. You,” her voice was cool, uncaring.

Cy felt the sting of it in his chest, but he had to think to himself, At least she didn't say she hated me. Or not say anything at all--just ignore me entirely. She could have turned around, with her back to me, and just kept eating her ice cream. Yeah, she could have done a lot worse. I have to be grateful to her at least that much. He ran his tongue over his teeth, as a new thought occurred to him. She could have pretended to like me, too. She could have pattered on for a while, and then made an impossibly lame excuse, like she did before. A veiled rejection. That would hurt a lot more than her apathy... it did hurt, a lot more than indifference. I can't blame her for that.

He stuck one hand in his pocket, determined to live through this meeting. He wouldn't run away--that would be cowardly. He wouldn't cower, stick his tail between his legs, and scurry off. That was what this siren wanted, and he couldn't let her off that easy, after the torture of the past two days. Still, she'd been courteous in her reply, in her own cold way. Perhaps he owed her something for that. Some shred of comfort that he might leave her with. Fine... since she doesn't know how to take a compliment, I won't on comment on how pretty she is. That'll even us out.

Satisfied with his new resolve, Cy smiled--although the expression could have been mistaken for a smirk--and said clearly and confidently, "Yup, me again. Pretty hard to get rid of, aren't I?"

Her face was expressionless, her dark eyes unreadable, at least to the blond teenager. He wondered if what he was conveying--confidence was what he was hoping for, but he knew he must have seemed at least a little nervous. His stomach sure was jittering, as if his morning meal had suddenly decided it resented being eaten, and was rioting. When he drew his breath, it never seemed to be enough to satisfy his racing mind, but he didn't want to stop and try again, for fear that Eris might see that something was awry. What was going on with him? He'd rehearsed this conversation over and over in his head, every possible way it could turn, and every possible thing she could say, but now he was having trouble even remembering to blink or breath.

“Didn't expect to see you again before school started.”

"Yeah," he started. He didn't know what exactly he was planning on saying, but he seemed to be doing better talking than he was thinking. "I kind of expected to see you again, since you said you were staying at the Leaky Cauldron, too, but after a few days I kind of gave up on that idea. Whatever happened with that, anyway?"

Maybe she lied to me. Maybe I've been underestimating how much she dislikes me. Maybe she's been avoiding me like the plague ever since she saw me...

Stop it. Maybe's will drive you crazy, although you might do that without their help.

No more maybe's.
CREEPYSTALKERAHHHHH!
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Eris Ayano
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4th Year Ravenclaw

“I kind of expected to see you again, since you said you were staying at the Leaky Cauldron, too, but after a few days I kind of gave up on that idea. Whatever happened with that, anyway?”

Though she knew Cy was rather odd and had, upon first meeting him, suspected he was some sort of part-time stalker, Eris was somewhat startled when the Hufflepuff as much as admitted so. Had he been waiting for her? Had he followed her here? Though they'd only met the once before, the Ravenclaw was becoming rather worried, and hating herself for feeling so. Was this sort of thing normal? Was she so socially retarded that she got twitchy whenever someone of the opposite sex showed some sort of interest in her? Was she overreacting, and Cy was behaving perfectly normally?

Sometimes, she really hated being a teenager, and a rather distant one at that.

“I stayed in, for the most part. Homework and such,” Eris replied truthfully, but still somewhat warily. “On my way to stay with my sister for a couple of days.”

Unsure of just how much to disclose, she trailed off. The brunette was somewhat surprised to note that in her attempt to “hide”, she had managed to finish off her ice cream. Now that was something she knew wasn't normal for anyone, save for her, the bottomless pit. Despite herself, she stood, taking a few steps away from the bench, as if reading for escape. Ice cream gone, she threw the cone easily into the trash a few yards away, glad to have something to do with her hands.

This is just absurd. I just get jumpy when I'm not hovering in the background, that's all. It's not as if he's got some sort of shrine to me hidden in his basement and he's planning to kill me to prove that I'm some sort of goddess, not a mere moral. That sort of thing only happens to Aunt Lana.

“Besides, what business is it of yours?” Eris asked, a challenge.

Still clinging to the hope that he might give up and leave - though by now she knew that it wasn't likely - she gave him her most ‘who do you think you are!?’ look, eyebrows raised, each thumb slung through a belt loop. Knowing she couldn't stare him down (she lacked the necessary intimidation factor), the brunette didn't even try, however she hoped her look of stubborn determination would force him to take the hint.

“It won't happen again, sweetie. For one thing, Hogwarts is hardly Bournemouth.”
“Though they're hardly bursting with werewolf love, either,” the eighteen year old Theia piped in unhelpfully.

Her father sighed, but an eleven year old Eris stood there stubbornly, inwardly proud at the damage she'd caused to her carefully packed trunk. The contents were now strewn throughout the building, including the pub downstairs, and the trunk itself was in shambles, the lid torn from its hinges and bits of wood splintered on the floor. ‘
I'll stay home for sure now,’ she thought with glee. ‘No more talk of leaving, making friends.

“Only half werewolf,” Connor reminded his elder daughter patiently, casting a worried glance at the younger. “And either way, it'll do Eris no good to keep hiding in her room for the rest of her life. I don't care if she makes friends or not, she's going to that damn school and realizing that the entire world isn't out to get her.”

She knew her father was at the end of his patience, and not wanting to push it further, she simply nodded, accepting defeat. Her mother was right though, she knew. It wouldn't happen again.

Eris wouldn't let it.




[OOC: Okay, so I went a wee bit off track there. But she's still one step closer to fountain-shoving ;)
]
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Cy Andrews
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4th Year Student
“I stayed in, for the most part. Homework and such,” she said, and Cy could detect so many different things in her voice. Distrust, mostly. Dislike. A strong desire to say as little as she could possibly get away with, to end the conversation quickly. Too bad for her that Cy wasn't planning on giving up anytime soon. “On my way to stay with my sister for a couple of days.” she finished her explanation. She trailed off, which made Cy wonder why. It wasn't exactly a natural place to trail off. Nothing either of the two teenagers had said was especially thought-provoking, so she couldn't be loosing herself in thought. Maybe it was just something she did when she was nervous, uncomfortable, although it still had a slightly stiff air to it. As if she'd planned the trail of her words.

She stood, and Cy couldn't help but take a mental snapshot. It was the first time he'd seen her at eye level, with both of them standing. A giddy feeling rose in his stomach as he discovered that she was shorter than him. Not by much--three inches at the most--but still shorter than him. He'd worried once or twice over the two days since he'd seen her that perhaps she'd be taller than him. Beauty and height seemed to go hand in hand more often than not; just look at models. All of them had long, slender legs.

Of course, having thought this, Cy couldn't help but glance down at her legs as she stalked past him, headed for the trashcan a few feet away. They were long and slender, and of course, he couldn't really be surprised. Her smooth muscles rippled back and forth as she walked, her perfectly toned skin looking absolutely radiant in the afternoon sun. His blue eyes traveled up from her feet, taking in her slender legs, her back, her brown hair, swishing back and forth as she walked. He couldn't neglect to mention the area in between her back and her legs, either. The short, tight jean shorts didn't leave much to the imagination.

He shook his head as she threw the cone away, trying not to let his mind go any farther. At least, not while she was still looking at him like he might be a stalker. She turned back, and her expression made him blink. He'd been so consumed by her figure that he'd forgotten she was angry with him--or had she been angry? What had he done, anyway? He hadn't said anything offensive. He hadn't even complimented her this time around, unless by some bizarre chance she'd been able to see into his mind. Maybe that was why she was looking so frustrated now. Perhaps she had the insane ability to reach right into his mind, to see every image that he'd been imagining. Cy knew that if he was in her shoes, something like that would certainly be enough to make him mad.

“Besides, what business is it of yours?” She asked, a stubborn fire gleaming in her eyes. The light shining against the back of her brown eyes made them look doubly attractive, and Cy heard himself think, 'You look so cute when you're angry.' Why did he always come up with the cliche old movie love lines when he was around her? He had no trouble of thinking exactly what to say when she was gone, when it was useless, but there was something about her that seemed to make his mind stop working.

"Not my business at all, really." He replied, determined to stay cheerful, ignoring her tone entirely. Well, he was ignoring more than the tone--Eris was past giving out subtle hints. The look she was fixing on him looked almost scary. Almost. "I just figured I'd ask. Conversation, you know? It doesn't appear to be something you're good at, since every time I've seen you so far you've been desperately avoiding it."

He wished almost as soon as the words were out of his mouth that he could take them back. Yes, he'd vowed not to compliment her, but a comment like that was hardly the way to win her friendship. It was a terrible thing to say, especially in this situation. It left far too many comebacks that she could use, from stinging insults to light-hearted mockery. Knowing his cruel siren, however, Cy was fairly certain her choice of words would fall more towards the stinging insult side of things. He took a step backwards, leveling himself with the bench she'd been sitting on. He was afraid of what she might say, and found some comfort in his backwards step, as though the distance between the two of them, or the sound of falling water behind him as the fountain bubbled might somehow soften the impact of her reply.
CREEPYSTALKERAHHHHH!
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Eris Ayano
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4th Year Ravenclaw
“Not my business at all, really. I just figured I'd ask. Conversation, you know? It doesn't appear to be something you're good at, since every time I've seen you so far you've been desperately avoiding it.”

This took her by surprise. Not the accusation, that she'd been avoiding conversation - it was entirely true, and she was beginning to wonder if Cy had even recognized it. No, it was the insult that she hadn't seen coming, the suggestion that she couldn't make conversation. Just because small-talk had never been her strong point, and she didn't particularly enjoy talking with idiots, hardly made her incompetent where intelligent conversation was concerned.

“Well, at least you've recognized that,” Eris replied, tone icy in defense. “Perhaps now you'll take the hint and leave me alone.”

Though she knew she was being unfair, the Ravenclaw was far from the proper mindset to regret her words. Just for a moment, the crueler part of her wanted to see the Hufflepuff's cheery expression shatter. Within moments of its appearance, however, the teen's resolve faltered, and she felt something similar to the guilt she'd experienced at Caidy's a few days prior. And she hadn't even threatened him this time!

“S-sorry. I'm not usually such a bitch.”

It took a moment for her to realize that'd she hadn't spoken the words aloud, that they were simply nagging her for a chance to make themselves heard. She hadn't noticed until now that after speaking, he'd taken a step backwards, away from her, as if fearing her wrath. Inwardly, she smiled slightly - taller and reasonably well built in comparison to her thin build, he could easily take her down if he wanted to, especially given that she had no wand or pointy implements. For God's sake, she was a teenaged girl! What sort of teenaged girl went around beating larger (and likely stronger) people just because they annoyed her?

The insane type, I guess.’

Eris was sure that, from what he had seen, she definitely fit into that category, however, for the moment, at least, she allowed herself to blame that on him and his creepy apparent-stalker-ness.

“You're creepy!” she announced, voice louder now, and mildly frantic, as she took a step towards him. “You hide behind vases and watch me eat!”

Another step.

“We're in Muggle London, of all places, which, if you hadn't noticed, is hardly small, and yet you still manage to find me!”

Another step found her volume increasing, and a handful of passers by glanced at the pair.

“J... w... UGH.”

No longer aware where she was going with this, if she was going anywhere at all, Eris took out her frustration, shoving him firmly backwards.
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Cy Andrews
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4th Year Student
Cy could see that his comment had surprised her--well, any idiot could have seen that. Her brown eyes widened almost inperceptibly, her face crossed and cold. Eris looked about ready to explode, and the blond winced instinctively. Yes, Eris was a fourteen-year-old girl, and a rather diminutive one at that. There was probably nothing she could do to hurt Cy physically. That wasn't what he was afraid of, although if she did move to strike him, he'd be virtually powerless to stop her. He wouldn't go so low as to hit a girl, or even run the risk of hurting her hand by holding it in place if she raised it against him. No, it was her words that he was more afraid of. Her words could do far much more damage than her body ever could.

“Well, at least you've recognized that,” She said icily. Cy had been expecting much worse, but it was too early to feel any sort of relief. Eris hadn't finished talking yet, and there were a thousand other things that she could, and probably wanted to, say. It was up to her to decide which of those words to use. Still, he couldn't help but hope she'd be merciful. As she followed her first sentence with, “Perhaps now you'll take the hint and leave me alone,” however, his hope began to shrink. The silence that crackled on the hot, dead air certainly didn't help his nerves. He found himself hanging, anxious to hear what she might say. He would have gladly filled the quiet with something, anything, but his mouth didn't seem to be working, and he couldn't think of anything to say anyways, so he merely stood, waiting for her words.

“You're creepy!” she finally announced, voice louder now, and mildly frantic, as she took a step towards him. “You hide behind vases and watch me eat!”

He was about to protest this statement, and actually opened his mouth to do so, but one look at her silenced him. She had a look about her that Cy had never seen before--panic, maybe, She'd taken two steps already, forcing his foot to slide backwards. His whole legs felt like lead, and only out of necessity could he make them move. Eris had become a fireball before him, dangerous and explosive, and whatever he did, he had to keep his distance from her. He wasn't sure what he was afraid she might do, small and beautiful as she was. Maybe what he feared more than her was her anger; that her rage might become so hot that her very glare melted the skin right off of his face. His cheeks began to itch and burn even as he thought this, and it took everything in him to keep himself from clapping his hands over his face, clawing and scratching to try and dissolve the bizarre feeling.

"We're in Muggle London, of all places, which, if you hadn't noticed, is hardly small, and yet you still manage to find me!” She said, nearly screaming at him now. She took another step forward, but Cy's legs were already pressed against the warm marble of the fountain, so all her step did was bring the two teenagers closer. His eyes were locked on her, waiting to see what she'd do, what she'd say, now that she had him cornered. He didn't have time to notice much, focused as he was on trying not to make her more angry, but he did happen to catch a whiff of something sweet. Perfume? She didn't seem like the type. She couldn't just naturally smell that good, though, could she?

People were watching, and Cy felt heat rising to his face. He seldom blushed--he was far more used to having girls blush over him, while he stood cool and suave in the background--and he hardly recognized the feeling when it came. He was completely unaware of the red shades growing on his cheeks as people paused, their eyes lingering on the two teenagers by the pool. Cy didn't have to endure the strange warmth painted across his skin for very long, because while he was still caught up in his thoughts, Eris spoke again.

“J... w... UGH.” Her hands came up, pressing against his chest. Suddenly, things seemed to move in slow motion. He could see in perfect detail her expression, beautiful features twisted in anger, every one of the faces in the gathering crowd that was bustling on the edges of his vision, some watching, some merely glancing as they walked by, uninterested. He could feel the warmth of her fingers against his shirt, the pressure there--pressure that appeared to be too much. His body moved backwards with the force of her push, but his feet were unable to adjust to the change in balance, pressed up against the base of the fountain as they were. He began falling back, still in slow motion, but before the air broke through and her hands were off of him again, he had saw like a vision what he'd experienced in Highgate Cemetery what seemed like years ago; Melony's hands on his shirt, holding tight, the temperature climbing every second that they stayed together. The shadows flickering gently against his closed eyelids, the sounds of the marketplace in the distance fading into nothingness, into silence. Her lips pressed against his, locked forever in that one, immortal moment. He felt guilty, ashamed at himself for forgetting so quickly what had happened there. It wasn't quite that he felt he was betraying Mel by persuing Eris--far from it. After all, Melony had kissed him. He hadn't asked for it to happen, and he hadn't allowed it to continue--for long. He didn't think that he owed Melony anything but friendship. It was more that he felt guilty for having been so close to a girl right before meeting Eris. Now that he'd met her, he couldn't seriously consider chasing another girl--not with the ferver he was planning on chasing Eris. He felt terrible that he couldn't devote a clean past to her, either.

The feeling didn't last long. He hit the cool water, droplets splashing up all around him, soaking his clothing through before he was even fully immersed. For a half-second it felt almost good, to be back in some cold water, and the chlorene reminded him of the pool back home in Tunbridge Wells. Then he hit the bottom. He tried to gasp in pain, but his mouth only filled with sour-tasting chemicals. Cy sat up with a jerk, spitting the water out of his mouth. His usually attractive blonde hair was hanging down into his eyes, preventing him from seeing, but with one motion of his head he waved it all to the side, sending a stream of droplets towards Eris. He saw this, but oddly enough, didn't care. Eris had pushed him into a fountain, and it had hurt. She deserved to get a little wet.

"What was that for?" He asked, still sputtering slightly.

OOC: Eleven hundred. Eat THAT.
CREEPYSTALKERAHHHHH!
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Eris Ayano
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4th Year Ravenclaw

She hadn't meant to do it - at least, she didn't think she had. It had been more of an impulse, the sort that so often got people into trouble. Without thinking, Eris had taken out her frustration with herself, her irritation at not being able to rationalize her own actions, and focused them into shoving Cy into the fountain. The Ravenclaw watched, startled, as the boy fell backwards, crashing into the water with a splash. Though she could hear the surprised chattering of the muggles behind her, it didn't register as, for a fleeting moment where whatever common sense was remaining flew out the window, she feared that by pushing the Hufflepuff into the fountain, she had killed him. After all, you only needed... what was it? An inch? ...an inch of water to drown someone, and the bottom couldn't be particularly fun to bash one's skull against...

The foolishness left her immediately, however, as he reemerged, spitting out what looked like a fishtank's worth of watter and shaking sodden hair to the side, sending droplets of water her way as he did so.

“What was that for?”

At this, Eris couldn't help but laugh. Had their positions been reversed, with her soaked through and being eyed by passers by as one might eye a circus attraction, she would be livid, however short-lived the emotion might be. Here he was, though, seemingly little more than surprised and mildly annoyed, asking why it was he'd been forced to stumble into the local scenery.

“Well, seeing as it's so hot out today, I thought you might appreciate a swim. It either this or someone's extra-large Pepsi, I'm afraid, and I just assumed you'd prefer something that didn't need,” she replied wryly with a grin, far more relaxed now that he was sitting sputtering in a fountain.

Of course, at this point, the thoughtful thing to do would have been to offer to help him up; after all, it had been her doing that had caused his fall. Then again, the sane thing for Cy to have done in return would have been to pull her in when she did so, and, warm as it was, she didn't fancy a midafternoon dip in a public fountain.

A group of pre-adolescent muggles were hanging about, sniggering at the spectacle the pair had made. ‘Surely I was never that irritating growing up?’ the brunette wondered, rolling her eyes at them. ‘I mean, sure, there was that time I tried to use Cian as a pony, and the time I lit Mrs. Robinson's shoe on fire, but I was never the sort to point and laugh at total strangers. Well, there was that sideshow freak once... ’ A moment later, Eris relented, extending a hand to Cy, though adding a threat to the offer.

“Pull me in, though, and I'll turn you into a goldfish and you can damn well stay in that fountain. I mean, I am a Ravenclaw - I know things.”

Only half joking, she laughed softly, wondering if he found this nearly as bizarre as the time she had threatened him with her fork. The fourth year wondered if this was how all their 'conversations' would go - if he would act all stalker-y and then she'd threaten him. However there wouldn't always be fountains around, so she would have to get creative... excessively large cauldrons, perhaps?

This was certainly not normal classmate behavior.

((OOC: Not hungry at the moment, but thanks all the same ^_^))
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Cy Andrews
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4th Year Student
Rather than answer his question, Cy looked up to see Eris laughing. He was a little annoyed at that, he had to admit. She'd pushed him into a fountain. It hurt. She shouldn't have been laughing at him. If he'd tripped and fallen in, then yes, that would have been a perfectly laughable situation, or perhaps if the fountain had been deep enough that he hadn't banged his head against the concrete bottom. Whatever the reason, she shouldn't have been laughing at him now.

“Well, seeing as it's so hot out today," She explained with a smile, "I thought you might appreciate a swim. It either this or someone's extra-large Pepsi."

Cy looked down at his soaked clothes, and couldn't help but chuckle just a little to himself. He was, over all, a good-natured person, if fickle and shallow, and girls never could stay on his bad side very long. He just liked the entire gender too much for his own good. Besides, Eris had just made a joke. That was more than conversation--it was infinately better. Maybe she was just feeling giddy after pushing him into the pool of water. He could have sworn he had her pegged when he accused her of being anti-social, but making a joke broke the profile he'd built of her. The Eris he'd been acquainted with so far--the Eris that threatened him with forks and made lame excuses to leave lunch early--did not laugh.

She seemed much nicer when she did. It made her face light up, as well, adding another healthy glow to her already radient face. He liked the change in her appearence, and in her attitude, although he knew this side of her probably wouldn't be exposed long. Cy continued to watch Eris curiously as she extended a hand to him, telling him in a voice too low for the nearby group of Muggle watcher to hear, "Pull me in, though, and I'll turn you into a goldfish, and you can damn well stay in that fountain. I mean, I am a Ravenclaw - I know things."

Was that--another joke? Eris seemed to be far more aimiable today--aside from pushing him into a fountain. Cy couldn't decide how that compared to her fork-threats earlier in the week, but those two comments, coupled with her soft, gentle laughter, more than made up for both of them. With a grin, Cy reached to take her hand and pulled himself up to a standing position, although he was still in the fountain. He mumbled back to her as he rose, "You can't use magic out of school, Miss Smarty-pants. Even if you hate me, I don't think I'm worth getting your wand confiscated, although that would be flattering if you thought so."

When he'd risen, he looked about him. Water was still dripping off in a stream from his elbows, wrists, and in frequent, rain-like drops from his hair. He thought to stay in the fountain until he'd stopped dripping, but his tennis shoes were already soaked through, and seeing as those would probably take the longest to dry out, he thought it best to get them out of the water. He stepped out, onto the brick of Leicester Square, and promptly took a seat on the edge of the fountain. Reaching down, he pulled off his left shoe without untying the laces, and held it above the fountain while enough water to fill a small sink dripped from every possible location water could drip from. When the torrent of water had slowed--not stopped, because he figured it would take at least an hour for every bit of water to stop drabbling off the corners of his shoe--he set it back down on the hot pavement, and reached to take off his other shoe.

"I don't suppose you thought to bring a towel in your bag?" Cy asked without much hope, gesturing over towards the bench the two had started at as he set down his other shoe, hoping they'd dry sooner rather than later; he was a fair bit away from the Leaky Cauldron still, and walking there in wet shoes would give him blisters. Walking without shoes, on the other hand, would probably burn the soles of his feet, but maybe he could stick to the shade.

Not waiting for her reply, Cy ran his fingers through his hair, trying to get it dryer, but it was to no avail; his hands were just as wet, after his attempt to dry his shoes, as his hair was, so if this helped at all, it was so very slightly that Cy couldn't tell. With a sigh he took off the open button-up shirt he'd worn over his light blue tee--which was now sticking to his chest like plaster, outlining every one of his smooth swimmer's muscles--and rung it out above the fountain.

"Well," he said after a moment. "I suppose I was a little hot. You solved that for me, Eris, thanks."

It might have been the first time he'd called her by name; he certainly couldn't remember having done so before. Her name sounded strange when he said it, even though he'd been thinking it a lot recently, and that sounded perfectly normal. It was almost as if he knew he'd never be able to hold a decent conversation with her again after the incident at Caidy's, and so his tongue had felt no need to learn her name, to know how it felt against the hot air of August and how each syllable fit together to form it. If she'd decided to stop terrorizing him, though, maybe he'd have to call her by name more often. Maybe--just maybe--he'd be able to talk to her occasionally once at Hogwarts. He couldn't help but smile at the thought.
CREEPYSTALKERAHHHHH!
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Eris Ayano
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4th Year Ravenclaw
Eris was relieved when he, too, laughed. Cy being a normal, non-creepy human being was actually a slightly better outcome than him being afraid of her and fleeing, never to hide behind furniture again, and both were without a doubt preferable to him plotting some sort of elaborate revenge scheme, though she highly doubted he was entirely that type.

"You can't use magic out of school, Miss Smarty-pants. Even if you hate me, I don't think I'm worth getting your wand confiscated, although that would be flattering if you thought so."

An eyebrow raised slightly at this. It was true - the Ministry was definitely irritating in that respect - and no young witch or wizard relished the idea of never being able to perform magic again. After all, it was all that set them - ‘Well, most of them, at least,’ she thought with a slight twinge apart from the muggles. No one, save for those with the blood in them or had grown up with them (as Eris had), or possibly the occasional squib, would be likely to survive a muggle life. Even after just three years at Hogwarts, the brunette often found herself relying heavily on magic, and just a few months home for the summer made the handicap that reliance gave her evident - cleaning up the pub at closing took most of her patience.

The Hufflepuff was standing, now, though still rather sodden. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before stepping from the fountain, promptly sitting down to drain his shoe. How one could hold so much water, however, Eris didn't know, unless the shoe possessed some sort of water-holding vortex, which was rather unlikely.

"I don't suppose you thought to bring a towel in your bag?"

Before the Ravenclaw had a chance to answer (no, she did not have a towel with her. Her sister may have been a tad on the scatterbrained side, but her appearance was something Thee had always taken seriously, and so clean towels were one of the few things she always managed to have on hand. Food, unfortunately, was not - Eris didn't consider gumdrops a proper meal, as the elder Ayano sister seemed to do), Cy seemed to have given up on the towel plan and begun to dry himself off with his hands, which, given that they were as damp as the rest of him, didn't seem like a particularly productive idea. Eris was actually toying with the idea of offering him one from her sister's - though she wasn't sure how good a plan that would be - when he slid out of his shirt, wringing it out.

The fact that his other shirt was now, due to copious amounts of water, clinging to him like Seran Wrap didn't go unnoticed.

"Well, I suppose I was a little hot. You solved that for me, Eris, thanks."

She blinked when he spoke, somewhat embarrassed. True, it was now reasonably unlikely that he was some sort of stalker, but eyeing a boy simply because he was wet (and also rather fit) was hardly something the fourteen year old tended to do.

“Well, I really should be off to Thee's, else she might think someone on her block kidnapped me on my way there,” she said lamely at last, by means of escape. “I suppose we'll see each other at school, though.”

Hoping he wouldn't take her statement as an offer to make plans to meet up once at Hogwarts, Eris gathered her bag.
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Cy Andrews
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He was so busy wringing out his shirt that he didn't even notice the fact that she was staring, something that, if he'd seen it, would have been encouragement enough for at least five more conversations, however awkward and embarassing they might have been. Although most of his classmates, friends, or family would disagree, Cy did fit his house in that he was determined. Any of his teachers would have laughed at this statement, stating simply that Cy had no plans for the future, and no life ahead of him; all he cared about was socializing, and that was all he would ever accel at. It was true that not many things were worthy, in Cy's eyes, of his attention, but when he decided that something was, it had his full devotion, at least until he found the next big thing.

Another thing classmates criticised him about; he changed his mind so often that no one was ever really sure what he thought about anything, or where he stood. There were two universal truths with Cy: girls, brooms, and parties were good, teachers and homework were not. Everything else was relative, and subject to change from week to week, or sometimes even from day to day, depending on his mood.

He didn't see Eris' eyes scanning him, however. He didn't see things from her perspective, or even attempt to, at the moment, so he missed that encouraging moment entirely. All he heard, as he looked up from his now slightly drier shirt, was Eris' quick, slightly distraught voice. "Well, I really should be off to Thee's, else she might think someone on her block kidnapped me on my way there.”

She was turning away from him, her dark eyes scanning her things under the bench, preparing for her escape. Her escape--she was leaving. After pushing him into a fountain and laughing in his face, she was just going to walk off without so much as an apology. She'd offered him another excuse, and now she was going to run away. He personally thought that up until now this meeting had been going slightly better than their last--the two teenagers had been able to laugh together, like friends, or aquaintances at the least. Some of the awkwardness had evaporated, as the water streaking Cy's arms was doing even now in the heat, but now she was offering another excuse. Was he really supposed to just sit down and take that? Did she really think that he was such a pushover, and she could walk in and out of his life whenever she saw fit?

“I suppose we'll see each other at school, though.”

"What?" Cy asked incredulouly, standing and slipping his shirt back over his shoulders. He supposed it must have been drier, but if it was he didn't notice. He left his shoes by the fountain as he paced towards her, still talking. "Sure, we'll see each other at school. You wanna make a date? You can feed me to the Giant Squid, threaten me with a butcher knife, and then skip off to your next class."

He wasn't being very tactful about expressing his complaint, but truth be told Eris' repsonse was a little more than frustrating. Still, he couldn't help but notice that his tone sounded a bit angry, and knowing Eris, she would take any excuse she could to dislike him. Who knew what might happen? He might end up in the fountain again, or perhaps her fist would leave a developing bruise on his cheek. He took a deep breath, slowing as he drew nearer to the bench, now only a foot or so away from Eris.

"Sorry," he began, more calmly. "It just seems like--" He paused midsentence, then sighed. What was he supposed to say? He didn't want to sound mad or demanding, but he certainly didn't want her to make a habit of meetings like this. Greet, threaten, run. He shook his head subtly. "I didn't mean that. I was just kind of wondering if maybe this is what you do for fun, terrorizing guys and then walking off without another word. Even you have to admit that most girls don't do that sort of thing," he finished with a slight smile, but his smile wasn't very cheerful. It was tired, sad, a bit put off, just like his shallow blue eyes. Well, just like himself. He was tired of having to use so much energy just to have a conversation with Eris, and after all that it still turned out with exactly the same result as the last disaster. It simply wasn't fair for her to do this. What on earth did she want from him, anyhow? He was trying the best that he could, and still she shot him down.

She needs to lower her standards. It's not like I'm a completely loser or anything, either. She's obviously not looking for determination or charm in a guy. What do you want from me?
CREEPYSTALKERAHHHHH!
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Eris Ayano
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4th Year Ravenclaw
“What?”

His question made her turn; was he surprised? Or simply too stupid to understand what she had said? No, by now Eris knew it wouldn't be the latter.

“Sure, we'll see each other at school. You wanna make a date? You can feed me to the Giant Squid, threaten me with a butcher knife, and then skip off to your next class.”

Perhaps it was time for the Ravenclaw to rethink her position on the matter of his stability. Just now, Cy seemed rather exasperated. She took a half-step back as he paced towards her. Had their entire conversation been some sort of ruse to get her to believe the boy was perfectly sane? Then again, his previous comment on her social skills could have been correct; had the word 'else' suddenly become this horrible unsayable thing? She almost laughed at this. It took almost all of the fourteen year old's self restraint to stop from saying something along the lines of, ‘Why would I need to threaten you if you'd already been eaten by the school's resident mollusk?’, however given the situation, pointing out obvious flaws in his agitated logic hardly seemed like the way to go.

“Sorry. It just seems like-- I didn't mean that. I was just kind of wondering if maybe this is what you do for fun, terrorizing guys and then walking off without another word. Even you have to admit that most girls don't do that sort of thing.”

He seemed calmer now, at any rate. But terrorizing? That was hardly her M.O. Terrorizing was what Cian tended to do to squirrels, or to the peacock next door. As far as Eris knew, she'd never been much of a terror, having spent eleven years as a perfectly well-behaved child, then another three keeping mostly to herself. If that was considered terrorizing...

“I'm not most girls,” it was a pathetic excuse for an explanation, even for Eris. ‘Unless, of course, most girls are half-werewolves. In which case, yes, I am most girls. Although should that be the case, I fear for society.

“And what do you mean, ‘terrorizing’?!” she demanded. “I'm not the one who hides behind furniture or spontaneously appears out of nowhere!”

At this rate, the Hufflepuff was likely to end up back in the fountain, and should that happen, Eris doubted she'd be even remotely apologetic this time. After all, here he was, practically a stranger, unjustly criticizing her. Angrily, she took a step towards him.

“You are, without a doubt, the single most antagonizing person I've ever met.”

As it was a statement, not an insult, her voice was somewhat calmer now, though her irritation was still blatantly evident in her brown eyes. All thoughts of actually making it to her sister's gone, she wondered if it would do him any permanent brain damage should she decide to hit him in the eye with her flip-flop. ‘It could hardly make him any worse than he is now,’ the brunette reasoned, ‘and it would DEFINITELY make me feel better.
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Cy Andrews
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4th Year Student
“I'm not most girls,” she said in defense, although they both knew that Cy wouldn't take merely this as an answer. It was obvious to him that Eris was not most girls. Most girls weren't that gorgeous, and most girls weren't so antisocial. Her beauty didn't give her any excuse, in Cy's book. Surely being beautiful alone did not automatically make someone a horrible conversationalist. It simply couldn't work like that. There had to be someone in the world who could stop a conversation by entering a room, and then keep one alive at least like a normal person. She didn't have to chat up everyone, but she had to be able to at least hold her own. Or perhaps no one had ever expected her to, since she was so pretty? Maybe when she was younger she'd merely sat and adorned the room with her presence, and if she contributed to the discussion in the least, it was a bonus.

“And what do you mean, ‘terrorizing’?!” She continued. Obviously, she didn't see where Cy was coming from; she was sounding defensive, demanding. She didn't see things from his perspective; how he'd worked hard on a conversation that, as it turned out, was a dead end. As she pressed on, it became even more painstakingly obvious. “I'm not the one who hides behind furniture or spontaneously appears out of nowhere!”

"Okay, that's not fair," Cy protested, but his voice in comparison with hers seemed quiet, passive. He hadn't realized how upset she was until he had his own tone to compare her to. He was a little ticked, but she was outright frustrated, probably even more than that. He was about to continue with exactly why her statement didn't do his half of the story justice--mainly because he'd never had a chance to explain his half of the story--but she took a quick step forward, and Cy shut his mouth.

“You are, without a doubt, the single most antagonizing person I've ever met.”

Cy knew where this was going. She would step forward as she ranted and railed at him, and he would take a defensive step back, and pretty soon he would end up back in the fountain. He threw up his hands, as if in protest, as he took a short step to the side--he wanted to put some distance between the two of them, but there was no way he was moving an inch towards that fountain while she was around. "Yeah," he muttered to her, "I know, you hate me, without any reason whatsoever, except that you seem to hold it against me that I was walking around in London and eating at Caidy's. Believe it or not, in society, those are not sufficient reasons to threaten me and push me into a fountain. So whatever you're thinking of doing next--" he knew she was thinking about it, she had the same angry fire behind her eyes that she'd had when she pushed him back into the water, "Forget it. You've caused enough drama, don't you think? I was just trying to have a normal conversation with you, maybe make up for whatever you think that I did at Caidy's, but apparently you don't have normal conversations with guys. My mistake, I'm sorry," he finished hotly, definitely not sorry in the least.

She had raised her voice, and so had he, slightly. The people who had watched with interest as she'd pushed him into the fountain were looking up now, no longer interested, now traces of worry lined their faces. People saw that a over by the fountain a full-blown argument was rearing its head, and some of them hurried to leave the square before the voices rose even higher. A mother covered her child's ears, afraid of what might soon be said, and hurried her entire family out into an alleyway. Cy was too busy thinking to see any of these things, but he could feel numerous eyes on him, and the general air of unrest in the crowd, nervous anticipation, as if the two teenagers might burst into flames at any moment, and the masses were both expectanting and fearing that moment.

"For the record," Cy spat back at Eris, voice dripping with a very strained sort of calmness, "You are the most backward, twisted, unlogical, frustratingly antisocial girl I've ever met." He was quiet, not really wanting the people around to hear him, but his voice still held quite a bit of emotion hidden under the thin layer of peace he worked so hard to keep in his tone, as if making his voice sound more relaxed would have some sort of power over the two teenagers, and force them to cool down as well. He didn't really think it would work, but at least he was trying.
CREEPYSTALKERAHHHHH!
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Eris Ayano
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4th Year Ravenclaw
“I know, you hate me, without any reason whatsoever, except that you seem to hold it against me that I was walking around in London and eating at Caidy's.”

“I don't hate you, idiot, I don't even know you! That's half the point! I think.”

To be honest, Eris was no longer sure what exactly her point was only that she had, at some time during their dispute, actually had one.

“Believe it or not, in society, those are not sufficient reasons to threaten me and push me into a fountain. So whatever you're thinking of doing next, forget it. You've caused enough drama, don't you think? I was just trying to have a normal conversation with you, maybe make up for whatever you think that I did at Caidy's, but apparently you don't have normal conversations with guys. My mistake, I'm sorry.”

“No, I don't have normal conversations with anyone so psychologically disturbed that they take offense when I try to get where I'm going because if I don' show up my sister will assume I'm not coming and go off shopping, locking me out of her apartment 'till she finally stumbles into bed around dawn a fate I personally am not particularly fond of,” the Ravenclaw retorted with a glare, somewhat proud of the fact she'd restrained herself from stabbing him in the eye with her wand when he had accused her of causing drama.

She also turned her glare on the dwindling spectators, as if trying to magic them out of her way with the power of her mind alone. Considering that she would have likely been unable to do so even with a wand and a few months of practice, this was highly unlikely to occur.

“For the record, you are the most backward, twisted, unlogical, frustratingly antisocial girl I've ever met.”

Eris hadn't expected Cy to speak again, as she'd been busy contemplating some sort of angry exit in which she could accidentally shove him into the fountain again. She turned when he did so, however, though only to point out a flaw in his insult.

“The girls you've met must never shut up then, if I'm the least social you've met,” Eris pointed out dryly. “After all, I'm talking to you, aren't I? I mean, it's not as if I'm hiding behind a vase.”

It was a not-so-subtle mockery of him at their first meeting, and she doubted that it would go unnoticed. In fact, she hoped it wouldn't - he was far to irritating to remain civil (though the civility had stopped when she'd pushed him into the fountain). A hand on her hip, she raised an eyebrow impatiently waiting for his retort in hopes it would give her an excuse to push him again. It probably would have been easier had she just stormed off in a huff; he'd likely avoid her completely after that, and she'd have actually gotten to Theia's apartment before her sister did, in fact, go off on some sort of shopping spree. Her pride, unfortunately, refused to even consider that an option.
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