⦂ tower

Plonking down onto the couch with a book, Mint watched the others before going back to reading. Her first night here was somewhat eventful, getting lost twice finding the entrance to the common room, but being distracted by the library was the main reason, so many new and exciting things to learn kept going through her mind. With a soft yawn she put the book down and stared at the ceiling contemplating on what was said in the book and what adventures tomorrow could possibly bring, yawning once more while rolling her sleeve back down to cover up the answer to the password for entering the common room.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：mint ainsworth。⁰² @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：eleazar azorra-shin。⁰²   for a moment, his mind wandered off – perhaps down a rabbit hole of everything eleazar and then some. his breath stopped in his lungs, and maybe if he had a little less celebratory energy, he would have just dragged eleazar in their corner – the one he kept staring at whenever he was not around. but given the ‘community’ aspect of a win, he did not want to seem rude. he looked at eleazar almost regretful that he could not stare at him longer, forever if the universe allowed him – the idea of time control seemed very appealing. when he kissed him, he did not allow them to drown in all those pretty pictures they both had in their minds – he sighed in his hesitation. but he did not let that bother him, or ruin his disposition. he let eleazar go and turned around, kneeling to allow him get on his shoulders. at the suggestion of alcohol, his ears perked and he nearly sat up too quickly in his excitement. he smiled at silas, and disregarded mint’s teasing remark – however, it was registered in his mind. “we should definitely get some cider! we should probably play music too. and throw some blue confetti off the tower. oh! do you have any spell for that, butterfly?”

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：maël clair。⁰² @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：eleazar azorra-shin。⁰²   Grabbing himself a drink, Mint had gone over to Silas to sit down as well. His fingers and toes were still a little frozen from being out and up in the air for so long but the victory had warmed his heart a bit. He looked up when he saw Maël walk in and a small chuckle left his lips as he saw him pick up Eleazar. It looked so easy and Mint was pretty sure that it in fact was pretty easy to pick up their seeker and almost throw him back up into the air. He shook his head amused and took a sip from his drink, winking back at Maël for a moment. "Look at them being all lovey dovey," he said, a little teasing, towards Silas. The win had done them well, they had definitely needed it.

even from where he sat, silas felt the gaiety emanating from eleazar and maël's union, and it all the more uplifted his troubled state of mind. what he wanted more than anything was to sweep a certain someone up off the floor and into his arms after their win, but any possibility of that happening were out of reason. this ought to do for now. his teammates were no sad substitution; they, perhaps, were the perfect distraction he needed. silas stood up from his seat and walked over to where they all were standing. "should we go down to the kitchen to grab some cider?"

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：mint ainsworth。⁰² @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：maël clair。⁰² it still felt unreal to him; he could still vividly visualise the moment when he pulled off a particularly sneaky but tricky feint to snatch the snitch as it flew barely out of reach of kaladin's outreached hand. he spilled into the common room with his arms over his teammates' shoulders, being unable to congratulate and thank them enough for the well-played match. he allowed silas to retreat to a comfortable sofa in the corner, leaving him with a promise to discuss future practice tactics and strategies just as a strong force swept him off his feet, eliciting a surprised yelp and a hearty laugh from mint. "στάλα! a little warning would've been nice~" he playfully chided as his arms naturally came to lace around the taller's neck. "since i'm in your arms anyway, why not?" he continued, euphoric warmth still overflowing from his slightly petite frame.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：mint ainsworth。⁰² @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：eleazar azorra-shin。⁰²   a win was exactly what mal needed. he has been so down, that something like a quidditch victory sent him off the roof! his adhd charged with positive emotion made him dress up a little out there, and even put on some make up. he was too excited, and too happy to be bothered by the gloomy thoughts. he joined the team, and everyone else in the common room. he spotted their prefect and chaser and went to congratulate him, with the full intent to start a conversation. but as expected, his attention was driven away the second he saw the rest of the team - particularly, mint and eleazar. he charged at them without second thought, managed to knock over a cup of whatever, and picked eleazar up on impulse. given his crucial position in this win, he wanted to have him up in the clouds - or at 180cm. "do you want to be on my shoulders, pretty?" he asked him with a smile, all glowing with happiness and maybe something else. he winked at mint shortly, he will deal with him later. they both knew what that meant.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：mint ainsworth。⁰² @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：maël clair。⁰² @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：juliet jesseau。⁰² @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：jasper baudelaire。⁰³ @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：eleazar azorra-shin。⁰²   @－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ { ravenclaw victory party! come join allll :D there's no particular post order. interaction with one another freely! }

following their win, silas found himself fairly enraptured with the idea of celebrating with his teammates. he was never truly one for social gatherings, but this one was an exception. it was their first win of the season. the ravenclaw prefect sat in one of the common room sofas, watching as the festivities of their victory commenced.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ his brows furrowed the moment a tear trickled from the universe inside her eyes. gallopin gorgons, even when she was crying, she was beautiful but-- he felt a surge of fear rise in his stomach. did i say something wrong? he thought to himself. if she was happy, why was she crying? was she upset that late night hushed meetings were the only time they had together? silas removed his hand from her hold and lifted it to wipe away the wetness from her cheek with his thumb, dodging her question. "is something wrong, baby? did i do something?" his voice was soft, worried. he pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose, never parting from their shared gaze. "let me fix it."

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ in him, she found comfort and warmth. and in that same presence, she found home. the thought itself was enough to make a tear the size of a pearl slip past the corner of her eye, falling onto flushed cheeks even as she laughed, the sound joyous despite being quiet through the multiple kisses he gave her. “you make me happy.” she sniffles, pecking him one last time before regretfully so unhooking her arms from his waist, instead making a grab for his hands to hold. “are you sure you don’t want to steal a midnight snack or something?”

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ those three words fell from him before he had a chance to rethink saying them aloud. though when he heard himself say it, a red feeling of certainty flourished in his chest. he did love her. with all of his heart and every corner of his soul. he made sure to pucker his lips up for her sweet kisses, but silas couldn't contain his smile and joy in their redemancy. "i love you, aspen norlette beaumont. i love you a million blueberry tarts and peach pies." and he kissed her lips again and again, no plentiful amount ever enough to curb his love for her kisses.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ by everything she had, she loved him so much- the kiss never came and she pouted, beginning a protest which died the moment she took a good look at his handsome face. and what she saw there was unlike anything she'd ever seen, especially on him. he loved her and just like she did, it was undeniable and limitless. "i know," she whispered, raising herself on her tiptoes so she could kiss him, one filled with promises of that same love he gave her and more. "i love you, silas ciarán. a thousand times over."

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ sure, she was smaller than him. but aspen fitted oh-so-perfectly into spaces that even he hadn't known were empty and dull in the first place. witnessing her laughter, alone, injected a splendid vibrancy of color into his life, and he no longer felt the fatigue that gnawed at him just moments ago. silas leaned in to kiss her-- but before their lips could touch, he pulled back and looked into her eyes with utmost adoration for who she was and how much she meant to him. his lips curved gently, undeniably into a grin. "i love you."

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ “but- oof!” the words had no time to make it out of her, her breath leaving her in a huff the moment he pressed her harder to his chest, keeping her there. but as usual, she melted— she missed him so much. sighing dejectedly, she unhooked her arms from his waist, her hands reaching up to rest on his chest. “bon dieu, you are so smooth.” she chuckled, puckering her lips for the kiss he so hungered for.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ "shhh! you're going to get both of us caught," he urged, trapping her there in his arms. silas knew he missed her but.. not to this extent. her silly manners and french cadence ringing in his ears were enough to make him long for her even if she was there with him at the moment. his gaze fell to the frown she wore and instead of protesting, he smiled down at her. "if you're so worried, you can feed me some of your kisses that i've been so hungry for."

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ attempt, failed— he was far too big and stronger than her that even when she pulled with all her might, he wouldn’t move! gravity hated her too, his own yank making her crash into his chest. “then do it!” she exclaimed, unconsciously and uncontrollably wrapping her arms around his waist as she lifted her head, blowing the stray strand of hair that marred her face away so he could see the frown there. “I’m not shutting up till I’ve know you’re fed.”

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ a warm smile lit up his face the moment he met her gaze. she had that kind of effect on him even when he found it hard to be optimistic. "eat?" he questioned, watching her attempt to pull him along with her. only his arm followed while the rest of his body remained where it stood. "aspen, i'm not joking about having to report you." he laughed and yanked her back to him, pulling her tiny frame in a tight hug.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ she sighed as she pocketed her phone into the one in her hoodie before her gaze flit up to find him— he looked so tired. aspen made a mad grab for his hand the moment he began approaching, in turn beginning to drag him to the kitchen. or at least attempted to. “hi. let’s go eat.”

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：aspen beaumont。⁰³ silas hurried over to the location of their secret rendezvous in his robes. before entering the ravenclaw common room, he conceal himself with a concealment charm just for protective measure. it was dangerous, but danger was enthralling, especially to him. once he spotted aspen, he waved of his wand to reveal himself then sauntered over to her with a hushed 'hi'.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：silas ciarán。⁰⁴ the dorms were interconnected by rails of stairs that met at the very top, leading to the tower and for once, it was serene in its entity, clear of bustling students. aspen made herself comfortable against the wall as she waited, clad simply in an oversized hoodie -his, of course- and fuzzy socks, feet dressed in even fluffier slippers.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：reyna corvin。⁰⁴ There was a small sulk on Mint’s lips and then frowned. “Okay but? If I do not forget things, why would I use it-“ Mint started but then Reyna handed him the ball and he sighed, looking at it. Oh well, so clearly he had forgotten something. He shrugged slightly. “No idea, otherwise I would know, right?” His sulk grew a little more, shaking his head. “Maybe I forgot handing an exam in. Or calling my mom? Mh. Or maybe just cleaning Moccha’s toilet.” He watched the ball, not really understanding why someone needed it.

“I mean, you could just write down if it is something important. If not, you can just forget it, right?” He tilted his head a bit, looking at the other, not sure about this invention yet. There were so many magical objects he had yet to see and learn about, so many things he had not been able to read about these past one and a half years, so he had to admit he was glad Reyna was teaching him, even though she was teasing him too. “No idea what I forgot, honestly,” he said and threw the ball into the air, catching it again. “But I am sure I’ll remember it, if it’s important.” He chuckled slightly.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：mint ainsworth。⁰² “You should know what this is as a wizard at Hogwarts. It’s so simple, everyone has at least once used this before.” She almost scolded him even though she was rather amused to tease Mint with the things that he had no idea about. From magical objects to potions, she had become his tutor in a way. Usually, she wasn’t the type to help anyone, she rather preferred being left alone especially by students who had no real idea about magic or were rather untalented. With Mint, however, she didn’t mind, something that had been a surprise even to her.

She chuckled as Mint expected the object while he had no idea what it was. “Fine, I will.” She paused for a moment as if she tried to have his curiosity rise. “This is a Remembrall. If you forgot something, the smoke turns red and it goes clear when you remember what you have forgotten. Simple, isn’t it? It’s quite helpful too unless you are too dumb to remember what you forgot at all.” The smoke inside the ball was read while Mint held it in his hands. “So, what did you forget? Didn’t you study for upcoming exams yet or what is it?” She said with a grin stuck to her lips as she waited for the male to remember.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：eleazar azorra-shin。⁰²   in the silence of their union, mal’s mind drowned in a monet – on a field of red flowers, painted with blues and greens. it melted, just like oil, it blended – and the scent of it was so intoxicating he fought choking for air. and just like the fluid paint – he was taken by wind, by storm until the grass split apart for the reds to bloom. and on that field, he chose to die – like hyacinth, blessed by his lover dionysus. like adonis, whose blood was turned into flowers. like monet’s la lumière, drenched in peace and loving kindness. there was nothing like it, in mal’s mind – and although it was not his first, it was one of the best. perhaps the build-up helped his mind reach peak illumination – where all ideas, all thoughts became everything and nothing at all.

and it was more than a burning passion in his throat – it was a journey through the afterlife, and other lives that he could have had. one where him and el were on a spring field of snowdrops, fresh, cold air washing their lungs as they kissed. one where him and el were buried in snow, fighting the bitter coldness with a laugh or two. one where him and el were underwater, chasing fish and algae. one where him and el were running through colourful leaves – throwing them in the air and at each other. mal breathed out, his arm wrapped around el so tightly – what if the next wind will take him away? will he become van gogh’s starry night, or munch’s scream? mal hoped he will be turner’s ship on a sea of orange and warm yellow that will embrace his being, just like he was embracing him.

the soft sound rippled his paint until it turned gold – klimt’s masterpiece. and then, psychedelic – until mal was so drunk, so high, he could only hear his heartbeat trembling in his throat. and the ink was all over his hands, and all over el’s face – and even with his eyes closed, he could tell where it was. he felt its presence, just like he felt el’s kiss – close, near, a mark he will not be able to remove. and he became aware of a soft pain in his tongue – he swallowed it like he did his pleasure. el was not just a painting – he was a wooden sculpture, crafted with care, and meant to exist forever. in a garden, where ivy could grow on him, where ivy could give him clothing. where mal would find himself, suffering of old age, watching white flowers bloom around his ankles, and on his shoulders. he touched his shoulders only barely, pressing him closer until he collapsed. like lost atlantis – unable to emerge from the depths of passion, lost in oblivion, a myth.

the departure did not take away the dizziness, instead, it made it linger. linger so much, mal naturally leaned closer – closed the bubble they have created once more. and perhaps in a moment of realisation, he moved a little to obscure the vision of whoever the third party was. and when el fell in his embrace, he woke up. his face blue – and gold, mal’s fingers traced his soft cheek. he let him hide away, sink, drown like a feather in petrol – because like this, mal knew he belonged to him. a selfish act, one that he allowed himself for one moment – this moment.

“because, this might as well be your heaven,” mal answered, just as absently. he was speaking softly, this conversation was entirely between them – nobody should eavesdrop. “the devil only gives options, it is still up to you if you follow his or her guide,” he breathed out, this time seeking for el’s chin. he wanted to look at him for longer, or again. he was almost drowning in the high that this one kiss gave him, and he knew he could not repeat it – not soon, anyways. not here. “if you are going to hell, I will be there too,” mal’s lips curled up, and he managed to pull away and clear his throat, playing it off ‘cooly’. he wanted to show, so badly, that this was just a normal kiss. but every bone in his body, every gesture, betrayed such banality. he looked at el again, and used his thumb to remove some of the ink.

“you are officially the best sketch I ever made.”

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：reyna corvin。⁰⁴ To say that these circumstances pained him would have been a grave understatement. Perhaps he shouldn't have made friends with Reyna to begin with; She looked too much like Estelle, and now it seems that Reyna has gotten the wrong impression from his sincerity and kindness. Following Estelle's death initially, Alistair was a recluse that avoided nearly all social interaction unless it was absolutely necessary, and in this moment, he pondered if that would have panned out to have continued. Hell, he wracked around in his brain for anything that could have prevented this from happening.

After a few moments of silence, he realized that he was merely looking down at her with bewilderment, unable to speak. Clearing his throat, he released a deep sigh and shook his head, lifting a hand to wipe away at the droplets of sorrow that threatened to begin to flow. "Reyna, you know why I can't reciprocate those feelings. I am not ready, and...." It felt as though his throat was closing in on itself. A sharp inhale punctuated his thoughts before he continued. "...and I don't know when I will be. I would hope that you would respect that." Running his hand through his hair, he slowly backed away from the door and stood behind the couch where Cerberus looked visibly alarmed. Standing up, the black Malinois a stripe over Alistair's knuckles in what seemed to be a way to show his concern and urge to comfort the Ravenclaw prefect.

Extending a hand out, Alistair affectionately scratched the top of the dog's head, all while not taking his eyes off of Reyna at the door. "Reyna...." He began, clearly distraught as he lifted his free hand to rub at his neck. "Why would we go out for a walk right now? I'm sorry but I don't want to go on a date with you. I don't see you in that way. I'm sorry." His tone had become firmer, and it was laced with a tinge of agitation.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：celeste delvaux。⁰³ Valentine had sat at one of the sofas, phone in hand as he ocassionally glanced up to look for the reason why he was down here anyways. Him and Celeste had just started to become friends. Not only were their personalities seemingly different, but even the way they interacted and spoke with other students was different. It was very unlikely for them to be friends, yes, but it happened. Even though he'd like to say he didn't care much about what others thought of him and his relationship with students of his house, he was growing lonely. More importantly, he was growing tired of the tough guy act he always put on. Yet, it kind of made him uncomfortable to put himself out there in terms of making friends. It had been too long. It was a nice change of pace from what he was usually worried about, though.

"Celeste," he suddenly called out for her attention, seeing the girl enter the room.
Standing to his feet, the male pushed his phone deep into his pocket as he started his way over to where she was.

"I meant to text you that I was already down here. Sorry," Valentine scratched the back of his neck shyly.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：maël clair。⁰² it happened. there was no going back now.

eleazar couldn't even begin to process the short silence that ensued the moment such simple yet heavy words left his lips, never to be taken back or regretted. no, he didn't want to process the silence lest it led towards undesirable directions of doubt. thankfully he didn't need to, for mal had acceded to his request, thus began his downfall.

eleazar was very much a white lily as much as mal painted him to be a blue butterfly - he truly was free, pure, untouched and uninhibited by any of the world's vices and follies. as such, he couldn't draw on any previous experience to assist in his interpretation, but he quickly realised that he didn't need to; lucifer himself didn't have anyone or anything to fall back on when he was casted out of heaven for his (mis)deeds, after all. as his pure couplets met mal's poisonous ones, he could already begin to feel the wings mal had drawn on him begin to shrivel up and clip itself, tragically beautiful flakes of innocence ripped apart from its owner and lost to the harsh uncaring wind of the world. did lucifer ever wonder at any time if the severity of his punishment mattered whilst he committed his sins? was he ever scared, did he ever have even a sliver of regret, a wish to be allowed a chance at salvation and repetance?

his eyes fluttered shut as he allowed mal to work his sinful poison into his system, small sighs and barely-there breaths escaping the pits of his lungs with every fragment of his wings flaking off. just like lucifer, he figured that since he was doomed to fall from the high pedestal of his purity, he might as well make the most out of the plunge and make the most he attempted to; slowly and almost experimentally he reciprocated the kiss as mal deepened it; a small moan, a little slide of his tainted lips, a sinful hum, even an adventurous finger. eleazar finally understood why intimacy between two people is always seen as sacred and even worshipped at times - it required the individuals involved to work off of each other, feed into and reciprocate each other's energy and undisclosed desires, have compatible chemistry with each other. and he found himself being able to feed into and off of mal so easily, it honestly scared him. but the fear wasn't enough to overcome the powerful spell that had been casted around them, much more so than the one cast moments prior.

his descent was in no way painful; in fact, as foolish as it sounds, he selfishly wanted to keep on falling, wanted it to be endless if it was mal who's clipping his wings until he has nothing left. the more he lost himself into the sin, the longer he fell. he even forgot about the reality of the room around them, forgot that they may attract unnecessary attention. but none of that mattered, not when mal was there sending him into what possibly the sweetest trip to oblivion. alas, all trips ultimately have an end destination and though he wished he could fall forever, he couldn't change the inevitable end that he'd crash upon.

his lungs began burning gently, a tell-tale sign that he needed oxygen before he ended up sending himself on a real trip to oblivion. he regrettably broke the kiss, opting to bury his face into the crook of mal's neck; he'd just given his first kiss away, allowed it to be taken unceremoniously from him but could he blame mal entirely for being the devil who tempted him to the point of no return? was it also not his fault he succumbed to said temptation? he didn't even have the energy to process such after-thoughts; all he could focus on was how sinfully sweet mal tasted and how much he so desired to relive it again.

"you're a devil in disguise, and i fell right into your trap. i'm going to hell for this, but why did you feel like heaven?" he mused quietly, almost absently against mal's soft skin.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：reyna corvin。⁰⁴ “I swear I have no idea how to use this,” Mint mumbled and looked at the thing right in front of him. He did not even know the name. Reyna had brought it along like she sometimes did when she found some magical object she was sure Mint had never seen before. And just like today she was always right. He had no idea what object it was, how to use it or name it. Shaking his head he looked at the other, a pout on his lips.

Growing up with only his mother who was a muggle and worrying about her well-being had taken the chance of him attending some magical school earlier. He had never wanted to leave his mother’s side unless he had known she was safe and sound so he had only been able to join the Hogwarts University two years ago. His mother was in good hands, he could finally learn magic and life was a lot better than it had ever been.

Aside from the fact that Reyna just loved to with whatever magic object she found. “Teach me and stop laughing at me,” he huffed, nudging her. Yes, he was a Ravenclaw and yes he definitely was clever but that did not mean he knew everything in existence. Which really .

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：eleazar azorra-shin。⁰²   he should have bit his tongue until he spurted blood, he should have stopped himself from having that flame burn so deeply inside of him. a flame that he has abandoned somewhere in france, a long time ago. it was with no air that he wanted to take el in, with no motion – if he allowed himself to drop, he might never stop. it was a feeling he did not write in any letter to the divine, something close to perfection – a relief, an aesthetic experience. and in a heartbeat, eleazar became the sublime – the ocean between sky and earth, the waves that crash ships, and carry songs long forgotten. a piece of the rarest, and perhaps most extraordinary pieces of art – the gothic in all his being was simply too much for mal to resist. he could have clawed his own insides, it was too intense – and perhaps it was his disposition that allowed it to be as such.

but, he could not name it – it had no name, or too many. el, perhaps that nickname did not fit him. two letters were not enough, there must not be vacant space for any other name. and maybe it was the heat of the moment, a singular, minuscule feeling. one that made him abandon everything, every single thing he stood for, praised, adored, arrogantly displayed. for him, he wanted to be a blank canvas – so his blue-dusted wings could leave a trace, so that his pretty lips could not get stained. for him, he wanted to be a book of poetry in blank verse, whispering ‘to be or not to be’ a little too sweetly. and would he forgive him, if he becomes the violent thunder that breaks his wings? will he forgive the force of nature that resists change? and will he, oh, will he still create a storm in his waters if he kisses him again?

his shirt was getting tighter, he realised it might break under pressure – but no matter, he will not let it. it was more than raindrops that fused them – mal knew there was a deep understanding. one that made him hang adoration around every word he spoke, one that made him give colour to the sound of his voice. and everything he spoke, made sense – the words were him, he was them. how long will the fascination last – until something else captures his attention? how could there be anything else to create what el created in a few seconds, it was a gift – mal fell prey to his mind, he fell in his web of beautiful stars and splendid lights. and if he stares for too long, he might get blinded, struck unconscious, left on a road, in the rain, without wings.

and what comes after a ? descend. the fall of the greatest until a resolution is met – and mal, mal wants to be in a forever. an unbreakable circle of all things beautiful – el. dare he trim his wings, dare he turn him into a caterpillar? would he survive the fall, will he be alright? mal could not tell, because despite his conscious hesitation, the unconscious attraction was winning over every inch of his body. his skin burned, it wanted more – and more. like a hungry predator, it touched the soft surface so generously, the ink started to smudge even more. it was burning so much, he could not – he did not. intoxicated in his own passion, he stopped resisting.

mal closed the space between them in a heartbeat wordlessly, crashing his lips onto the other’s almost losing his breath and mind in the process. his ink smeared on el’s neck, because he could not help pulling him closer with the chances of sinking deeper, and deeper into the chair – until they were in the ground, rooted, but together. and if they die, will they be buried together? and how could mal, from beyond, explain just how good this felt? how right, and wrong? he wanted to speak – so many words. he wanted to write poetry – pretty words all over el’s body. will he let him? he wanted to paint him in gold, and trace butterflies all over him – he would not let anybody touch his creation. and he spoke his poetry with his lips – a mute conversation, one of lips fitted together, devouring each other. and his muscles clenched, he felt the fire consuming him. and he tilted his head, and kissed him deeper. he did not care he gave his breath away, he did not care there were countless eyes on him – all he cared about was el’s devolution. from a butterfly, to a caterpillar – until mal could turn him into silk, and art.

his art.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：alistair di angelo。⁰⁴ [sorry for the late reply bb, I'm a bit slow these days ;; ]

Her eyes sparkled as she looked at the man her arms were wrapped around securely. His scent rose in her nose, a smell that she had never recognized to be this sweet and alluring. “How else would one proclaim it?” She asked, her voice almost too soft sounding for her usual behaviour. All she knew was that her heart went crazy in her chest and that she never wanted to let go of Alistair again. Why had she never before considered this? The feelings had hit her like a train but she knew that Alistair was the one she wanted to be with, to never leave behind.

Suddenly, her arms felt empty as Alistair had removed himself from her hold. “As friends?” She repeated his words, her voice sounding befuddled this time. How could Alistair not understand her feelings when she had just admitted them to him. What was so hard to understand about that? “Not as friends, I like you, a lot.” She repeated her words. Reyna wanted to rush back to him but this time she didn’t engulf him and rather stopped right in front of him. “Go on a date with me, you will see that my feelings for you are genuine. Don’t push me away like that.”

The female was unsure what the other Ravenclaw talked about as tears sparkled in his eyes. “Why are you crying?” She whispered. Her voice was soft but she almost felt offended that the man cried rather than reciprocating her feelings. She reached for his hand that was placed onto the doorknob taking it into hers. “Let’s go for a walk together. Wouldn’t that be a cute date?” This time it was her free hand on the doorknob which she opened. “Let’s go!”

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：maël clair。⁰² The two words were so simple, yet the moment they elft his lips, it felt like as if he had inadvertently casted a spell powerful enough to stop everything around them. The quiet hum of the other students, the gentle thumps of shoes against the polished wooden floorboards, the occasional trifle of book pages being flipped, even the gentle patter of the rain against the glass of the window - all of it seemed to blur away into an indiscernible unimportant haze around him. All his senses could only register mal, mal, mal. The gorgeous perfection of his unblemished visage and the way his long golden locks fell wffortlessly and messily to frame it, the way his touch seemed so gentle yet secure, light but burning against his own smaller frame, the way his voice sounded even more melodious than the best of classical pieces. Eleazar should've regretted saying those two words, but in doing so he'd be lying to himself and that was considered a bigger sin to him.

Just as he begun to register the beautiful but frail blue butterfly in his palm crumble to dust, he was inflicted with a spell that mal had seemingly casted - this was in the form of direct eye contact. Eleazar didn't even realise he'd done it, but he knew that his breath got caught so suddenly in his throat he produced a quiet but unmistakably audible gasp. Mal wasn't /just/ beautiful, he was the definition of the very word. And as sudden as the spell was cast, it was broken before he had a chance to recover, to even attempt to comprehend just what kind of very advanced magic the other had perhaps just attempted to employ on him.

Mal's short response hung in the air, perhaps a little too- reserved, awkward even. There was clearly more that he was forcefully restraining given his radiant smile (which in the current situation also felt a little out of place, but eleazar tried to convince himself that that was just him reading such cues and their possible implications a little /too/ deeply). The following question flowed a little more naturally, and though eleazar had made to take his time to unpack it, he was not prepared for perhaps the strongest spell yet - mal's touch on his skin.

This time he was aware of his breath hitching audibly with the gasp that followed; suddenly he felt like his body was about to burst into a million and one specks of fine golden dust, shimmering and gleaming oh-so-subtly under the soft lighting of the room. Was this how it feels like to be a blue butterfly being freed by the seemingly unforgiving rain? To be a raindrop with the sole purpose of ending its journey so it could start anew elsewhere? Liquid gold seemed to course through eleazar's veins; he was now more inclinced to believe the other should mal say once again that he's a fine piece of art.

"The journey that butterfly took. The stories it wrote, intentionally or otherwise. The lives and hearts it touched, for better or worse. The storms and calamities it may have inadvertently caused, knowingly or not." His voice was now barely above a whisper, his breath quivering. He wasn't nervous or afraid, but for some reason he couldn't bear to break the layers of magic that had been inadvertently cast around their intimacy. For the first time since they spoke, he had to shut his eyes, squeeze them close as he allowed the simple drag of mal's gentle digit on his freckled skin to work its seeming magic through him. His breath was getting shaky; he vehemently denies any fear or nerves so why was his breath getting affected?

Perhaps it was a simple movement for the sake of both their comforts, but the gentle tug mal had employed such that he was no longer seated on the cushioned arm of the chair but in his lap instead was more than enough to knock every atom of oxygen eleazar had in him and jolt him back to reality, albeit for just a millisecond. Instinctively he found himself reaching up his small hands to curl into fists, grabbing at mal's oversized black button-up and ruining its perfect crispness with the presence of a few wrinkles. Now he could admit to having a small fear - the fear that should he let go of mal's shirt, he'd fall into an abyss, a cruel nightmare. Grabbing onto mal was his way of grounding himself, of convincing himself that mal was indeed real and not just a deluded figment of his imagination. To reinforce that, he dared himself to open his eyes and take in every single perfection of mal's face once again.

"Kissing me would be the perfect to this whole setting; you've already worked your grand gesture when you pulled me into your lap, looked into my eyes and made a lost blue butterfly out of me. If I'm the lost butterfly, you're the rain." He breathed out in a quiet response. "Pluck my wings, let me fall and set me free, mal." Slowly his gentle orbs fluttered themselve shut again as he timidly inched his lips closer and closer to the other's, leaning into mal's sinful touch; he acknowledged that there was no way he would be getting out of this alive, and mal was no virtuous guardian angel. Yet if this was how he was to meet his demise, as long as mal was right there, he'd be okay.

"Kiss me."

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：eleazar azorra-shin。⁰²   it was a moment of weakness that made him look away from the butterfly, making it collapse in ink dust on his and eleazar’s opened palm. in that moment of weakness, he dared look into the boy’s eyes. every fragment of his body wanted to kiss him, it burned him with the same passion that any feeling came to him – it was like anger, frustrating. should he really? should he break apart something he so desired to see whole, something that would crumble in his arms – only for him to leave dead on the ground? perhaps his passion would have been better paired with selfishness, but there was no inch of his body that wanted the young boy heartbroken. but maybe just once – one singular moment of bliss. no. mal knew that once he started kissing him, there was no telling how long he will kiss him for.

he had to look away. and it was not subtle either, he looked away as if something burned his eyes. and how wrong it was – he realised his action a little too late. he cleared his throat, the silence was starting to leave residue on his vocal chords – and how they would break if he would say what he wanted to say. why was he not speaking those words that burned his throat? was it, that for the first time in a while, he was afraid of rejection? or perhaps, he was afraid to reject the feeling. was it possible that someone could outdo him at his game, could play him for a change? was the boy pure evil, or simply too innocent to notice how this affected him? mal felt his heart in his throat, he felt conflicted. he decided to push his thoughts away.

“that is rather flattering,” mal smiled, and looked at the boy again. he shook off those words that would have made this too sincere. but for the love of all things, he could not lie, he never could. it was a weakness – but perhaps an admirable quality too. if only he could tangle lies the way he could tangle truths – all the pretty words he would add to his register. he touched el’s cheek, tracing his freckles with his thumb. “what makes you hang onto the memory of a lost butterfly, el?” he asked the question more to himself, not really expecting an answer. what was it that made people hang onto memories so tightly, he wondered. he was guilty of it too, just like anyone else. he realised some of the blue ink smeared on el’s cheeks – but that only made him look prettier. he decided not to mention it, he preferred it that way – he painted over the canvas, he tainted it, slowly.

the words were etched in his mind – and for some reasons, mal fell for them. he normally knew exactly how to answer to compliments, how to react – always playfully, but not right now. as much as he wanted to laugh it off, the intimacy they created was far too precious to break. he wondered if he should speak his truth, or keep this allusion of perfection. mal could not help but drag his thumb down to el’s chin, the ink following. his anatomy was accentuated by the marks mal left on him, from the cheekbone structure, to the jawline, and chin. and even if it was only half of his face – it was enough for mal to envision the symmetry. not many had the chance to see this side of him – this deeply interested, hooked, passionate, intimate side. he did not allow them – he was vulnerable in this state, oh so vulnerable.

and he felt the pull, and read all those thoughts in his mind. yet he listened to his body, and pulled the boy closer – almost losing his breath in the motion. it was quick, and close enough – he became mal’s creation, in a selfish contemplation. the traces, mal wanted to touch his entire face – leave more patterns, more lines. he could seal the deal if he wanted to, but a part of him still hesitated. and in this moment, he felt positively drunk – intoxicated, overwhelmed, on fire. and dare he ignite? dare he burn those lips with his poison? he breathed out, his voice dropping lower as if it was preparing to share a secret. “magic words,” his playfulness had an extraordinary comeback, and he was thankful for that. he would have been doomed if he could not play this off as one of his seduction tactics. the less serious it was, the better. “does kissing you in the common room count as a grand gesture?” he smirked, but it was only half-meant. his fingers were still caressing el’s face softly, it was probably an unconscious gesture to ask for consent.

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X mood *esp. the lyrics ; nothing but thieves – honey whiskey (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JoK5BjlmGBY)