(Untitled)

[loopdeelou]

: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

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[loopdeelou]

Illiad worked well with orders from Brinley, in fact, he worked better with this order than if he'd had it as an option. If you disobeyed an order, you made the person not only mad by dispointed. But if you were given the option and didn't follow through... it just didn't feel the same. And when Brinley's eyes met his... Illiad felt as though he couldn't hold them there. He looked quickly down to the sheets between the pair of them, his own grey eyes wide and nervous.

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."

[brinley_watson]

Yet another reason why the two were a perfect match. Illiad worked best under orders and Brinley expressed his feelings by giving them. He was never the sort to use 'please' or 'thank you'. He was demanding and brash, even to those that he cared for the most. Illiad, of course, would be the one and only person in this category. He had lived the sort of life where demanding what one wanted was the way to get it. It was really the only way he knew how to communicate.

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.

[loopdeelou]

Sleepy eyes found the awake ones once more and Illiad tried to comprehend what was going on there. Could it be? No, of course not. He was still a little woozey from the fainting, after all. He was imagining things, of course. That had to be it. Brinley would never express such an emotion.

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.

[brinley_watson]

Well, it was only natural that after three-odd years of dating someone, they'd have some sort of strong feelings for their mate. However, Brinley wasn't that sort. The denial of that emotion, and the doubts that he could even feel them, absolutely assisted in the restraint of said feelings. He had practically rendered himself unable to even feel them by doubt alone. Perhaps he did. Perhaps he really, really did. That day, and it's horrible scare, had shined a bit of light on the situation for Brinley.

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."

[homely_illiad]

Realizing that he wasn't going to get any more affection off of Brinley, Illiad sunk back into the pillows, closing his eyes and rolling them at Brinley's words. Really, he hadn't done it on purpose! You'd think he was an attention starved puppy by the way Brinley was speaking to him!

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.

[brinley_watson]

There were many various things that were higher up on the list then snuggling. In fact, licking snails and peeling off one's toenails were higher up. Bowing to a Gryffindor. Kissing a girl. Yep, there were many things he'd rather do. He'd rather do anything that didn't involve snuggling without a damn good reason.

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."

[loopdeelou]

Well, you made do with what you had. And when you loved Brinley Watson, it was never *exactly* what you wanted. But you made do with it and you were happy to get just that. Compassion! Illiad wouldn't have been surprised if Brinley had ignored him, or complained himself about the cold and taken away his blanket. Still.

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.

[brinley_watson]

Sometimes Brinley was nearly human. In all honesty, giving Illiad his cloak and even draping it upon him was akin to pulling bloody teeth. He hadn't wanted to do it, but.. he was sick, whatever, and would likely run off and tell Lou that he had been so mean and really, would Lou believe a word he said if that was the case? No no. It was best if he at least tried somewhat to make his boyfriend happy.

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."

[homely_illiad]

Brinley apperently did not have the same sort of family that Illiad did. The Hawkins were impossible to keep away. Illiad had tried-- he'd bought padlocks, tons of them. He'd convinced Circe, his older sister, who was allowed to do magic since she no longer attended school and was over seventeen, to put hexes on his door during times when family was visiting. No such luck. He'd begged his parents to let him stay at home during the annual family camp out-- a time when hundreds of Hawkins from all over the world would be crowded in a couple of little cabins at some Scottish Loch. But of course, they'd said no. Family is important, Illiad, his mother had warned him sternly. She was usually one to take his side during these debates. They already say you're odd, his father had concurred. Being that you're in Slytherin and all... prove them wrong, son. Show them your stout Gryffindor heart!

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.

[brinley_watson]

Oh no. Brinley's family was dramatically different. His Muggle father's family, robbed of the ability to know what their son married into, were kept away from the children. The majority of the five boys had threatened to tell them everything about the wizarding world if they were forced to meet, so to keep certain Wizard rules from being broken, his Mum & Dad had no choice but to keep the children away from them. Oh, the rules they'd break. At least three of the four would get themselves thrown in Azkaban and wouldn't mind it at all, especially if it meant they'd never have to see those disgusting creatures again.

Then there was his Mum's family. Old wizarding blood that ruined by the choice of a very, very stupid girl. For five years, they refused to even see the children, so horrified by what their daughter had done. Finally they did, but even then it was only to play a horrid game.. one that included turning children against their own parents and messing with their minds to the point that none of them were quite right. His grandparent's belief was that you couldn't choose who you were related to, but you could chose your 'family'. To Brinley, his 'family' included four of the five brothers, his Mother's parents, and various Aunts, Uncles, Cousins.. anyone that was as evil and twisted as him.

"Really," he replied, lip twisting into the sort of sneer he never showed Illiad. It was reserved for mudbloods, women, and, well, Andrew Frazer. "Oh, but she's so convincing. Knew all sorts of little details about you. Even knew how I made you feel and, oh right, mentioned that you apparently cry like a newborn babe any chance you have." With that, he flipped the page of his magazine again, tone still dry and drab, then finished with a simple "because of me."

Mmm, right. He had nearly forgotten that tantilizing detail.

Illiad was begging for his attention and finally, he got it. The book was discarded and he turned in his seat, cold, challenging blue eyes meeting their grey equals. "Have I? I might be the only boy you sleep with, Illiad, but am I the only one in your heart? Or do I share the space with a family of blood traitors and, most especially, a mudblood-fucking bitch that thinks she has the right to come into a room and tell me not only how you feel about me, but how I should treat you in return?" His brow quirked at his comment about possibly leaving home.. he'd play with that later. He still had a stake to drive here.

[homely_illiad]

Illiad didn't like that sneer. It tore him apart inside. He'd seen it used before, but never to him! That seemed almost unholy. Here he was, Brinley definate favorite, and he was recieving that sneer reserved for twits and prats! Had Louvika downgraded him that far in Brinley's mind? That girl... she was always meddling where she didn't need to be! Illiad felt a hot spurt of anger rise up in his chest. He clenched his fists and his cheeks flushed in a way that Brinley had probably never seen before. He was angry-- he was pissed!

"She's lying to you! She doesn't want us to be together, you know!" he said, his voice in a yelling whisper. "She thinks you hurt me, you're mean to me! But you're not!" that was a bit of a stretch. Brinley could be very, very mean. Now was a good example of it-- cutting Illiad off from his family? Even if he disliked that family so.

"And I don't cry!" what a lie. There were already hot tears of anger in the corners of his eyes.

"Please, Brinley..." his voice came in short gasps, the fierceness of his tone had obviously strained his little strength already. "...please don't believe her! She doesn't know what she's talking about, she never does! She doesn't know me...only you do! I promise... please, I promise you're the only one in my heart. I'll do anything!"

[brinley_watson]

That was one thing that anyone dealing with Brinley Watson positively had to understand. He was posessive and had never been the type to share his things. It was a bitter pill of hypocracy, as he'd never deal with anyone acting that way towards or about him in return, but it was how he operated. He didn't want anyone to be closer or mean more or anywhere near as much as he did to Illiad.

Perhaps he just wanted Illiad to be like him, turning his back on the family that didn't deserve him. Perhaps part of him even doubted that he had done the right thing with his Mum & her husband, and seeing someone else do it would just provide reassurance. It was terribly mean, yes, but he felt that it was justified... especially with Illiad reassuring him that he did not, in fact, want a thing to do with them.

Yeah, that part didn't help.

"Oh, yes you do," he replied, pointing a finger at those tears. "You've come close quite a few times at that, Illiad. Why do you lie to me? I hardly ever lie to you. I'd like to think that I deserve better." Well... it was true. Sort of. He might skirt about the details, but the basic skeleton of what he told his lover was generally right. "She has no reason to lie to me and here you are, lying right now. Why should I believe you, the liar that you are?"

Oooooh.

Hello, door of opportunity.

His last statement provided quite a lot to work with there. Brinley looked touched, pulling off the perfect face of shock. It was as if what Illiad had said was actually going straight to heartstrings though really, it got nothing more than a shove into the Manipulation Pot of Ammo. "I wish I could believe you, that I'm the only one in your heart," he replied softly, and even went so far as to lean forward as he brushed fingertips across his lover's cheek. "You'd do anything? What would you do to make me believe?"

[homely_illiad]

Illiad's entire being seemed to shake. How was he supposed to deal with this? He felt sincere anger with his eyes for betraying him in this fashion-- completely unfair. But then again, he had Hawkins eyes. No wonder that while he was betraying his family, they would betray him back. God, I'm becoming like her, he thought, ashamedly, cursing his own grief inspiried lunacy.

But what was this nosh about Brinley never lying?! Skirting the truth, in Illiad's opinion, counted as lying. You've probably just run into a bannister or something.... Those words filled Illiad's mind and heart and made him sick to his stomach. He'd always supported that lying, even made up the lies for him! But... Illiad was in no position to accuse Brinley of this. He was already in the dog house-- and he figured if he did anything else to upset the boy, he'd be dropped then and there. And how was he supposed to deal with that?

He wouldn't. He couldn't. He'd draw his wand and Avada Kedavra himself then and there. There wasn't anything worth living for without Brinley. Even if Brinley did make living hell sometimes.

"Brinley," he almost coughed the name, so upset was he. "Please, please..." his tiredness and weakness was beginning to show even more on his face. "I meant I didn't cry to her...I said I'd do anything! And I mean it!" the tears were falling thick and fast onto the white linin sheets across his knees. Brinley's cloak had slipped and fallen to the floor.

"...just tell me what you want me to do. Just tell me."

There. Complete relience on him. This way, Brinley couldn't even accuse him of plotting something himself-- he left it all to Brinley's hands. He was a pawn.

[brinley_watson]

Nooo, he wasn't lying by skirting about everything, he was merely showing how un-detail oriented he was! Telling the skeleton of what happened surely was better than not saying a thing at all! Besides, he rarely had to do that either. Illiad would lie for him, and no one could really be a liar by proxy.

Yes, Illiad was looking weaker and weaker by the moment. Part of him (small as it was) wanted to drop it all right then and there and let him go back to resting. But that part, love-filled and ignored wholeheartedly, was shoved aside. He had something to take care of and once it was all over, Illiad would sleep well again.

The most beautiful thing about their relationship, in Brinley's opinion, was the fact that with three words, everything would change and go his way. He had his choice of said three words, too. Two different sets: 'I love you' or 'I'm leaving you'. Either would accomplish the same things, though one took more personal sacrifice than the other and he wasn't willing to give himself up like that any time soon.

Dragging fingers settled against flesh as he cupped Illiad's cheek and immediately drew himself closer. His eyelids were heavy as he watched him through nearly-closed eyes and lips brushed lightly against the younger boy's chin. "I don't want you talking to her," he replied breathlessly. Ironic, the fact that for once he was actually being affectionate, but just had to twist and manipulate their situation while he did it. "If you loved me, Illiad, really and truly loved me, you'd come to me with all of your problems. You'd trust me to be your shoulder to lean on, not her. I want to be that person for you." Yes, since mocking him for those hard and strong emotions to his face was much, much easier.

[homely_illiad]

No more talking to Louvika? It could almost be called a blessing.

Almost.

No more talking to Louvika would mean that Brinley would love him again, really, truly love him. But no more talking to Louvika meant that he was down from three to two people he considered to love him in his mind. Louvika would be annoyed, possibly heart-broken that her favorite cousin wouldn't speak to her. And if that happened, his own mother would probably feel the same. His mother who had always championed him to his father and siblings. Two to one. But did it matter? Now he would only have Brinley, and no doubt that with this, Brinley's affections would double. It wasn't that hard to ignore Lou at Howgarts anyways. He did it most of the time to show his housemates he was good and loyal. It was, moreover, she that sought him out to talk! But she always knew when was exactly the right time to come. She always knew when I was hurting the most.

But it was the affection that did it. The physical affection. Brinley knew how to play his cards. The boy was starved for affection, physical most of all. His lips opened in the smallest gasp when Brinley drew himself closer and he felt himself leaning entirely on to him.

"I won't, I won't..." he mumbled, the hot tears in his eyes. "...I won't talk to her again, I promise, Brinley..." he mewled. "...I really love you, I swear I do," his voice cracked. He didn't quite understand what Brinley's intentions were. He had never felt like the sort of person for who Illiad would feel comfortable going to with an issue. And it was very likely that he would continue to feel that way-- he just simply couldn't imagine himself with his head on Brinley's knee, complaining about how his family just didn't care, or how this or that person had insulted him. It just didn't feel like Brinley would care.

But maybe I've misjudged him, he thought to himself, wildly. Maybe he does care. Perhaps I've just been silly in thinking I knew him completely.

"I won't speak to her again."

[brinley_watson]

Illiad didn't understand his intentions? Bloody hell, neither did Brinley.

All he knew was that he wanted Illiad to himself, as he always had. Again, he hated to share. Why he cared so much was a mystery even to him. Generally speaking, he really didn't care about a thing when it came to his lover and who his lover spent time with. But now, new mini-feelings and all taken into consideration, he actually sort of gave a bloody damn. Illiad was not only his toy, but his favourite toy. He didn't want anyone else to even look at it, better yet feel it's love and/or affection.

Mine.

The thought was fleeting and only flashed towards conscienceness briefly, but it was there.

Mine.

No, he likely wouldn't care much for Illiad's little problems or personal dramas. But sacrifice, a master manipulator had to recognize that every now and then, a sacrifice would have to be made. Yes, he'd sit there and listen to all those bloody issues. So long as Illiad would tell them only to him. And who knows, once eyerolling and grumbling over it was over, he might would even share his own problems. And they'd talk of them, helping one another through their problems and...

...Merlin, it would almost be like a -real- relationship...

...right, perhaps that was pushing it. But he'd at least play along, especially if it meant revenge on the snottish bint that thought she had the right to tell Brinley how to treat his own boyfriend. Apparently he was up for spinning quite a few webs at once! Satisfied with his answer, he pulled Illiad's chin down and moved lips to meet his own. "Good," he murmured, voice muffled with a gentle kiss.