(Untitled)
:Week Name/Date/Time: 'Sometimes You Just Can't Win'/ Saturday, September 23, 2006/ 1:15 PM
Location: The Infirmary
Open to: Brinley, Illiad, and a very disturbed Madame Pomfrey
Currently Involving: Lou-boo!
RUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUN!
That was the noise Louvika Hawkin's brain made. It sounded, actually, a bit trainish. Intresting thought to ponder later, but ( Read more... )
Location: The Infirmary
Open to: Brinley, Illiad, and a very disturbed Madame Pomfrey
Currently Involving: Lou-boo!
RUNRUNRUNRUNRUNRUN!
That was the noise Louvika Hawkin's brain made. It sounded, actually, a bit trainish. Intresting thought to ponder later, but ( Read more... )
Of course, his reasoning was more along the lines of 'Ew, nasty' then 'Let's not hurt them, eh?', but whatever.
"Hmmm," was his reply to that one. Very curious, indeed.
This was actually beginning to get fun. He never thought Lou to be a sharp one, so he doubted that she'd get what he was hinting at but.. well, it was going to be fun whether she was in on the joke or not. He breezed directly past her request for clarification on the 'handsome' comment (as really, that was best) and let his smile spread as she questioned their friendship.
"Oh, we're very close, actually," he replied. "I've.. taken him in, so to say." Oh, and what a nice taking it was. "He's somewhat of a side-project, you see." With a look on his face like he was recalling the fondest memories, he crossed his legs and relaxed more in his chair. Right. Pretending to pour his heart out here. "I couldn't help it, really. I was drawn to him. Someone had pulled a horrible trick on him and he was standing there, hot with rage and dripping wet and I, in an odd moment of compassion, felt the need to help him any way I could." Clicking his tongue, he added, "Poor thing." With a casual shrug, he continued. "We spent quite a lot of time together, getting to know one another as best as we could. We had hoped to keep it secret as really, who would want to hear about a Gryffindor and a Slytherin coming together despite their differences?"
Another shrug, and he was done.
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This didn't sound like the Andy she knew, though. Her (and Fi's) Andy was hot-tempered but non-judgemental, sweet and flattering, but somehow shy and secretive. Why would her Andy be friends with an ugly old git like Brinley Watson, even if there had been that sappy story about his 'moment of compassion' and him being 'dripping wet' and all that nonsense!
"You're having me on," she said, seriously, her eyes narrowed in another glare. "Why would Andy like you? He's far better than that, y'know. And furthermore-- you can say that you had your great moment of affection for him, but how come you never had such for Illiad? Illi, who doesn't have any friends but you... if you can call yourself that," her eyes looked very much like her cousins at this point, very smooth, calculating, and untrusting.
"You're having me on, Brinsies," she said, crossing her legs and adjusting her skirt, the pot-watch still sitting on her lap.
"You're a sweet kid," HA! She didn't even have to make her tone sarcastic to get across the point that she was being such, "but really. Andrew Frazer?"
Not her Andy-Pandy. Definately not.
Still... she might have to inquire to him about this...
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They had a 'connection', alright. His favourite one had to be the connection of Andy's hand to his.. well, said hand connected well in various locations, but he had to admit that one out-shined the rest. But that was neither here nor there and to be perfectly honest, just thinking about all that again was bound to get Brinley randy in the sort of way that would have him unceremoniously chunking the bint out of the room and finding ways to rouse Illiad from his slumber.
Which wasn't entirely bad.
"I know, it's hard to believe. I could hardly believe it myself." That was almost laughable. Oh, he was caught by surprise alright. One had to remember that it was Andrew that started it, after all. "You'd be surprised. There are many things that I was able to teach him.. things he'd keep forever, I'm quite sure." Yes. Like how to get a man from zero to ecstasy in less than 60 seconds.
Oh, but she had to bring up Illiad, did she? Well. Perhaps he could sabotage Andrew in more than one way? Sitting back in his chair, Brinley even managed to pull off something that might be passable as an upset look. His fingers drummed on the arm of the chair and finally, he signed. "...I'll have you know that I have plenty of affection for Illiad. If he felt like sharing it with you, he'd likely even tell you as much. And on that note, you should know... what with you getting on to me for making him cry and all and trust me, either one of them could easily back me up on this if asked so please don't think I'm having you on again, but... your Andrew, he's made my Illiad cry. It was terrible. Unfortunately, Andy and I are no longer close, all things considered and.. well, you might have noticed a few bruises on him?" Frowning, he shook his head slowly. "I had hoped that things would have ended better between the two of us, but he hurt my boyfriend's feelings."
Dramatic pause and...
With that, he quickly turned in his chair, leaning forward and everything as if something had just come to him and.. whammo! There it was.
"...you know, I feel dreadful for even mentioning this to you and all, what with the two of you being mates and shag-partners or what not but..."
...wait for it.... wait for it...
"I think he might be gay."
Gay-man gaydar and all of course.
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Well. On occasion.
She listened to Brinley's words-- all of them-- and while she didn't particularly like the boy that was sitting before her, even Lou knew that every lie was formed from the seed of Truth.
But all the same, it was almost too hard for her to put all the stories together. She'd made it her business to seek her cousin out this summer, to invade his room and lie her head on his knee until he finally admitted what was wrong. Of course, this had taken prying of that sort that could only be done by a professional (which Lou was, or so she considered herself to be). And while her cousin was constantly rolling his eyes and trying his best to ignore her whenever they were together, she had ALWAYS been his only confident, even as children. It was only ever she that he could open up to, even if he hated doing it and he fought it with every fiber of his being.
Then, of course, there was Andy. Like Illiad, he was almost infallible in Lou's eyes. But as far as she knew, the pair didn't even -know- each other! And until Brinley's confession here, she had never even figured Andy would've met Brinley, of all people-- a muggle-hating, Gryffindor-loathing 7th year! The pair had never connected in her mind as being kindered spirits, or whatever it was Brinley had called them. There was nothing more she could do for his credibility but to ask.
And then there was Brinley. His words were tearing her up inside... Andy being mean to Illiad? Whaaat? Did Brinley even know what he was talking about? Or was he just manipulating her? how -could- she trust him, apart from the fact that Illiad championed him so?
Lou was certianly one for taking these stories with a grain of salt. She bit at her lip, trying to come up with a response. But it was all so jumbled in her mind! She was so confused!
Thankfully, there was to be a diversion.
The boy on the bed between them stirred and gave a soft, pained moan. Lou jumped to her feet.
"Illiad!" she shouted, her eyes wide, staring down at the pot, which had quickly changed into a box of stationary.
Well. The boy was a quick healer.
"Brinley?" a second moan followed the first, sounding worried and confused.
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Oh, to be a fly on that wall when Andy had to face those accusations.
That was all that really matter. With Brinley thinking that Andy was responsible for Illiad finding out about the affair, he really just wanted the boy to know that he wasn't safe. Unfortunately, he hadn't had the chance to see Andy again since it all happened so his dirty work had to be done by proxy. Who'd have thunk Louvika to be the perfect canon?
And he'd have to clap for Illiad later. His timing was perfect. Oh, and his reaction to seeing Brinley there? Perfect. He couldn't have set this up better himself. Now that Brinley had 'secretly confessed his affections for Illiad', he couldn't let them go so easily. Sure, he could be cold and uncaring to the boy in the privacy of their dungeons, but now? In front of Louvika? Oh, he had to play it up. The way he saw it, each and every little thing he did was going to add something to his credibility.
He rose from his seat slowly and brought a hand over to brush against Illiad's palm. "Morning," he said cooly, eyes inspecting every inch of his lover's body. "I've decided that I can forgive you for passing out in the throes of passion, just so you know. It's given me the perfect opportunity to get to know your cousin. I've decided that I don't mind her much at all." A pretty smile was flashed up at Louvika at that (yes, a page directly from Illiad's book), but vanished as he looked back down to the younger boy. "You gave me quite a scare, you know. Feeling better, I assume?" Oh, and his hand even moved then, brushing knuckles across a pale cheek.
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"Illi, sit down! You're still weak, you know!" she scolded him lightly, looking worried. Telemakos gave a strange call from where he sat on Illiad's headboard.
But the younger boy only continued to look confuse. Why was she there? With Brinley?! What was going on? She was probably annoying him! If this was the case, he was going to have to prove to Brinley exactly how he felt for his cousin.
"Go away, Louvika!" he scolded her, in a harsh whisper. "Why are you even here?! This isn't any of your business!" A heat came to his cheeks, angry that she had butted in so! He'd fainted when he was with Brinley! She was always trying to get into his life, and frankly, he didn't need her there!
"Get out!" he said, with a scowl, thrusting his hand firmly into Brinley's, as if she had condemned them to hell for being lovers and he was defying her.
Lou was shocked. Her mouth dropped open and she started to shake, a look of sheer disbelief in her eyes.
Whipping around on her heel, she grabbed her bag from where it had sat on the floor next to the chair she'd used, and dashed from the ward, clearly now sobbing.
Illiad watched her go, but said nothing more on the matter. A certian strange emotion crawled into his grey eyes, but he didn't dare allude to it.
"I'm...I'm sorry, Brinley, please..." he said, in a weak voice.
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See, and that was a drastic change from the way he had acted less than a minute earlier, yes, but if Louvika was gone, he had nothing to play up to. He'd not dwell on the subject, however, as Illiad did deserve his attention.
"You've not been eating. Or at least that's what the old bag had been saying. You're to take better care of yourself. Passing out in my arms is not the wanted alternative to what you usually do with me." It was clear (hopefully) that Brinley was making an effort to say what needed to be said with as much caring as he could muster. Yes, talking about being affectionate, having affectionate touches.. those were easy. They were all motions. But when he actually had to voice them... well, that's where he fell short. Putting them into action was the hard part. For a moment, he was unusually quiet as eyes met eyes and stayed there. His mouth opened, then closed. Seconds later, it opened again. "...you scared me, Illiad. I don't want that to happen again, do you understand?"
Well, that was apparently as close as he got to caring. It was an odd mix, that. The point he tried to get across was that he didn't want that sort of thing to happen to Illiad in the future, but it seemed to come out more as an order or a demand. But somewhere beneath all those words, there was an emotion. It was quiet and subdued, ignored wholly by it's owner, but it was there. The bud of something bigger.
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He'd let Brinley down-- he'd scared him! All through something he hadn't even realized he was doing. Of course-- he hadn't realized he was going off food. The thought had simply never occured to him for some reason because he just wasn't ever hungry. The constant nausea he was already feeling from the encounter with Andrew Frazer, combined with the need to keep Brinley as close as possible without letting the older boy realize what he was doing... that was what had kept him off food.
Reaching out, he took Brinleys hands and enclosed them in his own, raising his eyes to let them meet once more.
"Yes," he said, his voice clear now, "yes, whatever you say," he said, obedient. He even bowed his head to bring Brinleys hands up to his mouth, to kiss them on the palms.
A quiet pause filled the room for a short while, then Illiad decided to break it.
"And yes. I was aware that Louvika is..." annoying, bitchy, prying, foolish, obnoxious, vapid, batshit insane, "...Louvika."
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Part of him wanted to keep going. He wanted to tell Illiad exactly how it felt because really, he had gone through such strange emotions the second he blacked out. In a way, he sort of felt like he needed to talk about it. At the same time, however, he worried that Illiad would figure it out and know exactly how he felt and of those emotions he kept strapped down. Obviously one didn't feel that terror or worry for someone they despised. It was an indicator of something stronger, a something that Brinley was devoted to avoiding.
All of this rolled and tumbled about in his brain as he watched Illiad and his eyes, the portal to his soul, revealed so much more. The look in them was odd. The feeling behind it, ten times weirder. Really, he wish he knew what the bloody hell was going on with him.
"I am glad to be reassured that you are nothing like her," he replied smoothly. Cham-stealing, loud-mouthed bitch. "I don't like her one bit and would prefer if you didn't like her as well." With that, he leaned in, brushing a quick kiss against Illiad's lips before adding, "Curious, though, she made it sound as if you two were close."
Now that the Downfall of Andrew Frazer was well underway, he was ready to start on a new project:
Sever the Relationship Between Louvika and Illiad Hawkins. Permanently.
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Yet part of Illiad's heart was leaping for joy inside his chest.
Love, love, love! You love me, I can see it! I know it! The thought was glorious, like food to his unnourished body. He smiled a bright and contented smile, only to have the thing taken away by a kiss.
As for his mind and his voice, Illiad only let that get removed by the kiss for but a moment. His brain was lazily trying to catch up with what was going on. Mm... kiss... Lou annoying Brinley, owl above head... still rather sleepy...Brinley not liking Lou!
"We're not," he said, frowning. "She likes to pretend she's buddy with everyone. Makes her feel like she's got friends," he said, crassly, one hand finding itself on the pleasent area where Brinely's chest met his shoulder. "She's always been that way, butting into everything. Regular town gossip." Well, at least that was true. Illiad wouldn't ever tell Brinley his real feelings for his cousin-- how he'd always trusted her, always sought her out whenever he had a secret he needed telling-- even if he knew she wouldn't like it. Lou loved holding the hand of the underdog and it was a quality Illiad had always grudgingly admired.
Of course, he himself would always pick the winner. That was how you made it to the top, after all. But Lou's courage could be admirable.
"I don't," he said, slowly, "want to be here." The hospital wing. He hated it. Hated the white walls and the clean smell everywhere. It was noxious.
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Really, he had been terrified.
Had he known that Illiad was pegging that look in his eyes that way, he'd have punched him square in the jaw just to take his attention off of it. If ever there was a day in which Brinley could admit to himself that he loved Illiad, well.. he'd not go rushing off to tell the other boy. Love was a powerful emotion, one that gave people power over the ones that fell for them. He'd not easily give that sort of power to another person. It was his to toy with.
"Regular village idiot," he added as he spun about and lounged back into his chair. "And I'm sorry if you're uncomfortable here. Possibly, you should have thought of that before you nearly starved yourself to death." Picking up his magazine, he gave the papers a good shake as if he thought there might have been a bit of Louvika clinging to them. Yes, that coldness had returned to his voice but... the words didn't match the tone so well. Tone? Uncaring and cruel. Words? Hinting at concern.. somehow. "We're to not leave until you're perfectly well." Pausing, his eyes slowly ran over Illiad's form. "...and you don't look too well to me."
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Well...
Stuffing his cold hands under the covers and crossing them at his waist, Illiad opened his eyes. What good would it be to argue? Brinley would just get mad, and Illiad was probably too weak to leave anyways. He didn't want to faint again. Brinley would be pissed. But the thought of lying with Brinley, in his own bed back in the dungeons was definately more appealing. The dungeons weren't so... white. The color of the sheets, the floor, even the ceiling and the cabinets! They almost burned through Illiad's eyelids when he tried to sleep, so bright they were! Honestly, where was the warmth?
Right there. The dark color of Brinley's shirt caught Illiad's face, and he almost flushed with longing. If only he could convince Brinley to snuggle with him... ah, that would be so much better!
But how? Brinley was Brinley and snuggling was not one of his major priorities. Probably not even in the top ten. Yet maybe snuggling with Illiad would be some how appealing to him?
It was doubtful. Illiad gave a little sigh, cutting off the sound by gritting his teeth beneath tight lips. No. Not even worth it to try. He curled his legs up under him and tried to keep himself warm, hands still crossed and under the hem of his shirt. He tried to shut his eyes again but the white still bled through.
"What did you and Louvika talk about?" he asked at long last, hoping to start some sort of a conversation up with his love. His grey eyes-- open again-- where wide and innocent looking, his hair spread almost gracefully on the pillow behind his head.
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He did, however, notice the way Illiad was laying in his bed. He looked cold. With a sigh that showed that he really, really didn't want to do it, Brinley tossed the magazine back down, pulled himself from his chair, and strolled over to the small table that held their collective cloaks. His own was removed and with an unsavoury look on his face, he draped it across his lover's body.
There. Compassion. Done.
And with that, he returned to his seat and magazine.
"Oh, you know," he replied quietly as he brought it up, carefully inspecting a page. "Andrew Frazer." Right, there was the cruelness. Without skipping a beat, he continued. "Seems your little friend and cousin is best mates with him. Did you know that? That he'd do what he could to hurt you, yet befriends your own blood?" Again, he had thought that Andy had gone directly to Illiad to break the news of their tryst. "Or better yet, that your own relatives would favour a mudblood such as him?" Turning a page, he added "I'm shocked that you'd even claim her."
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As Brinley spoke of Andrew however, a certain mantra came into Illi's head so very unlike his usual, "I am ice." It went something like this: "Killkillkillkill." Infact, he physically shivered with dislike, but put it off by pulling the cloak closer around him and snuggling into it. The pleasent scent of Brinley's cologne washed over him and he felt an odd sort of peace, the mantra vanishing from his mind.
He knew Andy and Lou were friends. How many times had he heard her blatering on about his idiot face during summer holidays? 'Andy-Pandy Frazer! Oh, Illi, he's just a positive dear! Look at the letter he sent me! HA! I just remembered this time-- oh, but you weren't there-- he said this thing, it was just so funny...'
"She's not my little friend," he said, in a voice barely above a hiss. But it was cool, and calm. Even if the very pit of his heart was boiling, Illiad kept that tone when around Brinley. He had a feeling Brinley would be very upset if he ever raised his voice or was insolent in tone.
And besides, a very Hawkins-ish part of his heart shouted out, it wasn't Frazer that hurt me, it was you.
Oh no, Illiad didn't even dare to attempt to summon the nerve to say that. Brinley was infallible, anyways.
"Can't help who your family is," he continued, softly. It was the truth, even if people like Illiad hated it.
"Louvika is mad, she always has been. She used to talk to lamp posts when we were kids and throw canned goods at our fat aunt," he explained, roughly. "Every family's got a crazy person."
Funny that Lou wa the crazy one, but Illiad was the one who was hated in this family.
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Though that whole Andrew Frazer bit wasn't going to help.
"Hm," he replied, brow slightly quirking as he turned the page again. "Funny. She sure made it seem as if you two were the closest, perhaps even closer than the two of us. I'm not too sure that I like the sounds of that." Where was his stake? He needed a stake. And a hammer, as to get to work immediately on wedging the two apart. Though honestly, he knew that he'd rather Illiad not be around his cousin, but he couldn't really explain why. Maybe it was just because he didn't like her.. she had been a bitch to him, after all. Or maybe, and more likely, it was the fact that until that moment there in the room with Louvika, he thought that he had been Illiad's everything. He had just never realized that there were other people in Illiad's life. Sure, Brinley had a million in his own, but.. there were things that only his lover was allowed to hear about or know. Apparently that favour wasn't returned.
Yes. Brinley was jealous.
That never happened.
Illiad's comment about family actually made Brinley snort with a laugh. "Right. You're foolish, Illiad. They might forever be known as your family, but you at least get to chose which of them can be around you. There's no bloody law stating that you have to spend time with or even around the people from the same blood lines as you." Yes, if anyone knew, it'd be Brinley. "By far, there's no reason why you should have to spend time with relatives you don't like. Send them a Christmas gift and tell them to fuck the bloody hell off."
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Sometimes Illiad wondered if his father ever got into Louvika's dirigible plum collection, the way he believed in things that didn't exist.
"Really," he let his tone drawl a little when Brinley mentioned the fact that Lou said they were bffs. "Why would you believe her, Brinley?" he asked in a very quiet but very cool voice. "This is the girl who thinks Professor O'Dwyer is going to try to kill her...her head is full of nonsense, she does so many drugs," he sounded exhasperated, and he was. In a fight between Lou and Brinley, he would've ALWAYS picked Brinley.
Well, he'd figured he would.
He sat up and reached out to set his hand on Brinley's knee, eyes pleading. "You're my only. You've always been my only," he insisted, his grey eyes beautifully sad. He'd mastered the puppy dog eyes.
"I'm going to become of age on November fifth, you know," he said, taking his hand away quickly. "During the Christmas holidays...I... I don't know. I'll go home and collect my things, then tell them I don't ever want to see them again, or something." he looked down at his knees and his top lip twitched. He doubted that would stop Louvika.
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