⊷ greenhouses

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：emilia seong。⁰¹ There was truly never a second that Luciel felt he could breathe, because he was either answering her questions or trying to come up with something in response to her conversational topics. "You are," he confirmed a second after she asked, tapping against his arms that were still folded at his chest. He could practically see and hear the wheels turning inside her head. "Not by a long shot, but it's interesting and a nice change of pace around here."

What did he do? It was never anything he was supposed to, usually. There had to be something he could say. "Well," the words came out before he could find it in himself to stop, perhaps think a bit longer on the topic or avoid it all together, "I used to study a lot. Like, years ago, before I came here. The subjects here don't particularly interest me and everything feels too easy, so I don't study as much as everybody else probably does in their free time. So, I'm usually wandering if I'm not in class." His lips twitched slightly, threatening a smile at the compliment she threw out so casually. Nice? Well, he felt he were anything but that.

"As for my reputation, let's just say I tend to be more romantically inclined with people than in a friendship type of way." Luciel's head nodded slightly, for the first time finding it a bit awkward to speak on how other's viewed him. Hand lifting, he ruffled the younger and shorter girl's hair before him. "Though, I thank you for the compliment."

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰⁴ ( H ) Different he was. But only due to his wanted desperately to try and prevent himself from looking so desperate, from being almost overjoyed by the fact that she had accidentally stumbled upon him alone in the greenhouse. What would she have done if he had responded in the way his mind acted almost naturally? Wouldn't that make her uncomfortable, even more so, for coming here? "How often...?" The Slytherin's focus soon found the put out cigarette in his hand, trying to recall just how often he had smoked since they fought. It had varied, sometimes ranging to a full pack during the day. "Once too often, I guess." Enough so that he had found his clothes smelling faintly of the smoke, something that his cat did not particularly like.

"You have an entire season until sunflowers bloom," Liandro said with a matter-of-fact tone. Yet, despite how his voice sounded, his dark eyes found the Hufflepuff's face. They watched her longingly, as if he hoped, wished that she had come here for no other reason than a memory. "They only bloom in the summer, you know. And the greenhouse doesn't really have any." It was quite hard to find the ones he had sent her constantly. Each set coming from a different source all due to their lack of being in season.

"Did you?" For the first time in weeks, Liandro's attention was fully caught. There was no wandering thoughts, he thought of nothing else but the word Maya spoke in that moment. She read his letters, she didn't just toss them to try to ignore him, she just couldn't write back. The thought made him feel both relieved and hurt. Relieved due to her seeing the words that he provided, knowing that she read just how he felt about her and for her. But pain also struck him because no matter what, he had hurt Maya and who knew if that was something either of them could get over. "I understand, you don't need to apologize." He barely responded when the other stated that she would leave, causing his heart to race.

His words fumbled and his voice finally cracked when he struggled to keep her attention there in the greenhouse. "Maya, please. Please wait. Just...everything I said in those letters, I meant it. So please stay, even just five more minutes. I'll give anything to speak to you for five more minutes." His words were rushed, and his voice showed the need that he had for her, finally begging for the attention from her that he so desired. "I missed you, Maya. I know you're probably not comfortable with it but I beg you to stop avoiding me. This. I'll give anything. Literally anything just for one more moment with you."

@－ ❛ s ❜：liandro kang。⁰⁴ He's different from his letters, is the first thought that courses through her mind. Perhaps, it's the wanting to take the edge off that makes him more . . . passive, but because of it, she flashes him an expression of disapproval. She doesn't like him smoking, and she's sure that he knows, but it makes her feel guilty to know that she's most likely the reason why. "How often have you been smoking?" She asks lowly.

"It's almost time for the sunflowers to bloom," she murmurs out. "Thought I'd come see." It's an excuse, for she really has no idea as to why she'd drag herself to the greenhouses, but if she knew she'd bump into him, she would've her heel―which is what she should do right now, but she can't find it in herself to.

She shifts awkwardly over the soles of her feet, eyes averting elsewhere until his words garner her attention. It takes her a second to ponder over her reply, but she makes it clear first―"I did read them. I just . . ." She halts herself from continuing on, letting a sigh slip past her lips. The amount of times he's told her he's missed her, reminiscing over their time spent together, and even . . . told her that he loves her―how is she supposed to respond? "I've read them all and I'm sorry I haven't wrote back, it just still . . . hurts."

A moment passes and she does what she's best at; running away. "You know what? I shouldn't be here. It's late and I have a long day tomorrow, I'm going to go."

@－ ❛ s ❜：luciel romano。⁰³ ( H ) Expressive, now that was a new one. She usually got overly talkative or even annoying, expressive sounded almost like a compliment. "Am I?" She always was the type to just state whatever was on her mind, without any thought as to what the repercussions may be. Typically, people would just note how clueless she could be, especially due to her never really saying anything rude. "Aren't there others that speak similarly as me?"

She wouldn't think of him as boring, she was having such a pleasant conversation with him, enough so that she had lost track of time. How could someone like that possibly be boring? "What kinds of things do you do though? I find it hard to believe that you do absolutely nothing!" She was excited to hear he didn't have many friends, maybe this could mean that they friends? Though, it was concerning that he supposedly had a bad rep. "What's your reputation? Why wouldn't people want to be friends with you? You're so nice!" She had so many questions for him, questions that she could have waited to ask about.

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：emilia seong。⁰¹ Oh, she didn't? Now that was something that took him by surprise. In a way it made sense, but there was still a part of him that didn't exactly get it. Whatever. Gryffindors have always been pretty confusing to him, this time was no different. He found himself struggling again to keep up with her words, except this time he couldn't fight the slight grin that tickled his lips. "You know, you sure are a pretty expressive person," Luciel spoke rather absentmindedly once he found a period where he could speak. "It's a nice change for once."

Her words and sentence still came as a delay, but he felt the longer that he listened to her speak, the easier it came for their conversations to flow. Er, rather, his facial reactions to what she said were a lot faster than usual. It was still rather hard for him to vocally match her energy. "Honestly, I'm a bit boring," he admitted, head nodding slowly as he tried thinking of something interesting he could provide about himself. "I don't do much and I can say it's because I don't exactly have the best reputation, let alone a lot of... friends."

@－ ❛ s ❜：luciel romano。⁰³ "Eh?" Liking quidditch? The Gryffindor was far from it. She merely enjoyed how excited others got over it, the energy that they ensued during the games or as they discussed the topic. And as she said, she learned a bit just to have an inkling as to what was going on. "Oh, no, no. I don't like quidditch. I only go to the games because it's fun to watch everyone! And a lot of my friends play. I still get very confused, but I know all the different balls and stuff! But I could never and have no interest to every play. I like other physical activities like dancing! I need my legs for that and playing quidditch may break them!" Such a typical thing of her to bring up an extreme fantasy in which she would be in danger. Her last one was about snowmen eating her alive.

"If we sit besides each other during the games I can help you understand a bit! That way you don't have to wait after the game to know what's happening. Oh, that would be fun, wouldn't it? Usually my friends are playing or so into the game that they forget I am there. We could keep each other company and when Slytherin plays I can tell you when you should cheer and why and stuffs." Speaking a mile a minute, as per usual, Emilia finally took in a deep breath, pausing to look at the elder of the two. A great big smile adorned her features once more. "What kinds of things do you do if you don't know quidditch?"

@－ ❛ s ❜：raven rowle。⁰⁴ "Well, then go to the bathroom, I guess?" Henri said and blinked confused. He did not really see the issues. It were just bodies, right? Sure, their anatomy was a little different but it was not that big of a deal. At least for him. He did understand that for other's it might be totally different though so he tilted his head a bit. "It's fine. You can eh... touch my body. When you go to the toilet." He shrugged slightly. It was not a problem for him however he missed his body already, he felt more comfortable in it.

He blinked confused. "Huh? What's wrong with my shoes?" He clearly had not realised she meant it metaphorically not literally. "Oh? I mean, yeah, but I am not that tall, Cole is a lot taller though," he chuckled then and shrugged a bit.

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：emilia seong。⁰¹ Luciel was not particularly used to speaking with somebody who was so... full of energy. Then again, he was mostly friends with people of his own house and occasionally Ravenclaws. It was expected, since she was a Gryffindor, that she would be like this yet he still couldn't believe it. His gaze lifted from the grass to stare back at her, trying his best to process everything that the girl was sharing at once.

"I, uh, don't know a lot, if I'm being honest," he finally spoke, the translation of her sentence coming with a delay to his brain. "I usually ask my friends who are on the team about what happened if I still don't know." Luciel nodded gently. His hands moved to fix his robe, gaze still studying the girl beside him as he decided it was his turn to ask her a question. "You seem to like quidditch a lot. Any reason why you aren't on the team?"

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰⁴ It was a wonder as to how Liandro didn't hear the greenhouse door open. Was he so deep in thought that he hadn't registered the loud creak, that he hadn't felt the randomly chilly breeze that entered the space? The Slytherin may have just decided that he didn't need to worry about anyone popping into the greenhouse, not when he had been there for so without a face popping up. Even when the blond girl finally made her presence known, he took a moment to acknowledge her presence.

It was not that he was avoiding it. Or avoiding her for that matter, but Liandro had a lot on his mind, enough so that things around him seemed to merely fade into the background. "There's a lot of things that shouldn't be done in here and are anyways," he retorted, the cigarette soon nulled out by his fingers. "It's a fancy meeting you here, Maya. I thought you'd avoid the greenhouses like the plague unless you had class." Liandro had responded to her coolly despite being utterly surprised and even a tad bit embarrassed by her sudden appearance. What was he to do, what more could he do than what he had already? He couldn't exactly try to beg her. However, as if to cover up his tone with her and the fact that he indeed shouldn't be smoking on school grounds at all, his next statement spilled from his lips.

"I'll stop writing the letters. I am guessing you didn't read them, anyways. So I'll stop. I don't want to bother or annoy you."

@－ ❛ s ❜：liandro kang。⁰⁴ Anything was better than to be stuck in her bedroom, having been flooded with a dedication of letters that he'd send her. On some days, perhaps, she could read them without feeling much (or, that's what she'd tell herself anyway), but today, she's unsure why it's unbearable to even see the messenger owl that rests upon the threshold of her window with an envelope readily attached in its grasp.

So, she wanders to wherever her soles lead her, and now, she tugs open the greenhouse door, though, she doesn't necessarily know why. This place should leave a distaste in , but instead, it just.. makes her feel bittersweet. What does catch her attention though is the cigarette scent that wafts and mixes within the humidity of the greenhouse. She raises a hand to hover over her nose, but her visage only derails into a look of surprisal upon the man that relaxes leisurely whilst taking a drag. She buffers in her spot, debating whether or not to somehow make her exit or to.. she doesn't know.

"Hey," she calls out, after having taken a breath. Stepping to the side, she blinks to him. "I don't.. think you should smoke in here."

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：maya yim。⁰⁴ He couldn't quite recall why he made his way to the greenhouses. Liandro told himself that it was merely due to the frigid temperatures and the school entrance being much too far from where he had chosen to smoke. But he couldn't help but recognize that it was the very same greenhouse that he had met with the Hufflepuff back in the beginning of the year. Had he unintentially come here because he had thought of her? Or was it truly due to the fact it was much warmer in here than it was outside?

Regardless of why, the Slytherin decided that he wanted to stay awhile, lighting himself another cigarette. Professor Longbottom would probably kill him if he found out about it, but Liandro didn't care. He wished for his mind to be at ease and wander. The heat of the greenhouse plus the smoke allowed that, causing him to be lost in deep thought. The only movements he made were to the top few of his shirt to relieve him from the heat and the continuous movement of taking another drag. He wondered how long he could be in there before someone would catch him.

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：henri knight。⁰⁴ Raven could only roll her eyes and the odd thing was that she had to roll them at herself. But honestly different bodies were not the biggest issue here. Why? Ironically Raven's body flushed red and she mumbled ''your body wants to pee'' she shared a fact, the female soul could not just say she wanted to do that, afterall it was Henri's body reactions and they were totally natural...however Raven never in her life had any experience with having something dangle between her legs.

''Don;t think that I enjoy being in your shoes'' she groaned with a man's voice. It was weird. Probably weirdest thing she had to experience in Hogwarts. ''wow you see a lot of things'' the Slytherin found it weird but those extra few centimetres did have a big chance of the view.

@－ ❛ s ❜：luciel romano。⁰³ (Sorry it's short sosiwk)

@－ ❛ s ❜：luciel romano。⁰³ It wasn't uncommon for the Gryffindor to make a new friend at a random place, Emilia was always quite the talkative girl and love to interact with others. Though, it wasn't very often that a person actually humored her and even continued to respond to her conversation. Perhaps it was their cluelessness of the game and understanding it together, despite cheering for opposite teams, that allowed them to become comfortable enough to walk together and discuss the games. It was a treat for Emilia, she absolutely loved making friends.

"It is very fun to watch, isn't it!? I don't understand half of the game, but it's refreshing to see everyone so excited. I think I do want to learn more about how to play so I can have even more fun at the game!" Her high voice seemed to only quicken the more she spoke. Suddenly, her hands clasped together causing an echo around them as a thought came to mind. "Oh, I know! What if we learn together?! How much of quidditch do you already know? I know some things, but I get confused while watching sometimes!"

@－ ❛ s ❜：raven rowle。⁰⁴ "But maybe we should tell a teacher?" Henri said, a frown on his lips. Should they not let a professor know so they could help them get back into their proper bodies? His brain would not be able to work like a Slytherin so how was he supposed to get into the common room later? He would have to sleep out in the cold and he was definitely not a fan of that. Also he did not want to sneak into the wrong house - well, right now it was the right house. Or was it? His brain and soul was still a Hufflepuff after all, his body was just of someone that was a Slytherin.

"Yeah, we should go check the library. Maybe we can use our phones too? Find something online?" Henri sighed and got up, making sure his body was properly covered - or more like her body. He his lips and looked at her. "We need to change our bodies fast. I want mine back." He pouted. Raven was pretty, for sure, but he missed being himself.

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：henri knight。⁰⁴ Raven might have sounded meaner than usual but she had to make it clear, she would not accept ANYONE knowing about this incident. Raven was the honorable daughter in Rowle family, there was no space for mistakes and there was no option of being forgiven even if she did up in her life. That is why Raven Rowle had to always be 'perfect'.

The female felt as weird as the other did while staring at her own body. It was different experience than staring at the mirror since her movements were not copied. ''sounds like a deal'' she smiled confidently at the other words. ''nobody can know about this, got it? do you suggest books, library?'' Raven raised eyebrow.

@－ ❛ s ❜：raven rowle。⁰⁴ "I-" Henri started but Raven immediately shut him up, making him look at her with wide eyes. He blinked and looked at the other and then huffed. "Yah! I'm not interested in s! Or in woman in general." He pouted at her and shook his head. Which was not entirely true, because he was, honestly, not interested in people in a ual way, however that was something personal most people did not know so there was that. He huffed and looked at her, crossing his arms. Or more like looked at himself, which was a weird feeling.

"I wont touch your body in any way that is inappropriate and you do not touch mine in any way inappropriate," Henri then said looked at her, lifting his hand. He huffed and shook his head. "You do not need to threaten me. It's not that I did that on purpose!" Or ever had planned to ended up in a pretty female's body. It felt unfair as they had both been at fault, for sure.

Brushing through his hair he sighed and leaned back, looking at her. "Okay, but we need to find a way to change that. Yeah you are pretty but I do prefer my own body, sorry not sorry."

@－ ❛ ʜ ❜：henri knight。⁰⁴ Raven frowned at the other ''don't you dare to curse with my mouth'' she pointed at her own body. It was disgusting to hear herself curse. Well it wasn't fully herself but it was still her body and voice. Once she saw Henri checking himself out or so it looked like that to Raven she pointed her finger at hip and hissed in her new manly voice ''don't you dare to touch my s!'' men could not be trusted, she knew well.

''DON'T'' Raven raised her voice and stepped closer to the smaller body, her finger pointing in front of new Henri's body ''if you tell anyone about this I will rip your you know what off and when you get your body back you won't be able to even pee properly as a man'' Raven threatened the other. She had a pride to hold on and she would never expose this ridiculous situation to any professor. Not when she has a reputation to hold.

Raven Rowle knew by now for sure. She was stuck with a basic crybaby Hufflepuff. She often avoided those from that house and here, one was testing her patience.

@－ ❛ ɢ ❜：emilia seong。⁰¹ It was rare that he felt like abandoning his room to go attend any student activities, let alone a quidditch game. The shouts of the students and professors around him had been agitating, but the longer he stayed, the more interested he grew of the game being played in front of them. Gryffindor vs Slytherin. It would be obvious for who was rooting for and of course it was his own house. Having friends, especially his best friend Mera, playing he of course had to come watch at least one game to support them. In the midst of it all, he had accidentally befriended a girl from another house; Emilia was her name, he thinks.

It started out with comments being thrown here or there about how stupid it was that he was even here, and eventually shifted into the both of them sharing admiration with how both of their teams played together. It was very strange, but he had felt comfortable enough with her that it made him want to keep coming to games like this. And now, here the two were, walking around the greenhouses grounds, discussing how they both felt about the game they just watched.

"It was a lot more interesting than I thought it would be," Luciel admitted, folding his arms across his chest as his gaze rested on the path in front of them. "I think I can see myself coming to another game at some point. Maybe even if it's Gryffindor against another team."

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@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：finch goldhorn。⁰² he found finch’s reaction to his small note adorable. he even chuckled, and pinched his cheek briefly – he had nothing but affection for him. even if their personalities could invite unexplained arguments, they got along most of the times. he was grateful for that, especially since they spent so much time together – not only in the dorms, but in class too. he wondered if he could sit somewhere near finch in the new term, he would definitely exchange small sketches with him and make boring classes less taxing. “everyone checks themselves in a mirror, finch. it is the point of having one!” he said amused, he knew exactly what finch meant. those prolonged gazes that could either be narcissistic or confident. mirrors were – sometimes difficult to look at. as confident as mal was, there was still a small demon looming around every time he saw himself. he had to fight it in order to keep his ego in check.

“a drawing machine? oh no, something less offensive. a drawing servant,” he added with a small laugh, he did not mean it in a bad way. he suspected that finch will understand the underlining ‘slave of art’ terminology – after all, they were both artists. he smiled at finch and poked his nose shortly. “that is very sweet. I will draw you as well. not as a favour, but because you are pretty! and, you are right. but it would be sad to be good at something you do not love, or enjoy. a waste of time, like you say,” he nodded, then made sure he was supporting finch’s weight well enough, he did not want him to fall over in the greenhouse.

he left himself in finch’s care – he often did, especially when he had no ideas in mind. which was, in fact, quite a false statement – he always had ideas in mind. too many, one would argue. but when it came to making decisions, he was often stuck. he preferred having someone else choose, in this case, finch. he followed mindlessly, knowing that anywhere would be better – especially if finch was there. he did not forget the drawing that was gifted to him. when they reached inside the castle, he felt a little more relaxed – he was freezing out there. he reached for finch’s arm, and stayed close by, humming an unknown tone.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：maël clair。⁰² Finch turned his head to the side as he watched the other admiring the drawing he made while touching his own face at the same time. Perhaps he was comparing the drawing to his own features. He glanced down at the drawing he made of Mal and hummed out softly as he stared at it. He liked- no, loved..doing realism, but he noticed he had a different style for everyone. Sometimes, he would draw people ultra realistic, and other times, they'd still be realistic, but in a sort of cutesy style, just like this drawing. It was funny how many layers there truly were to the art of drawing. Finch knew he had already learned so much about drawing, but there were definitely still things that even he could learn about. Not only as a Ravenclaw, but also just as someone who loved drawing and painting, he was determined to learn everything that he possibly could learn about drawing. He just had to figure out first where to start and then he'd be set.

"Mmm, of course you'd call me cute, but you don't call yourself cute. You should really look in the mirror, then again..I'm sure you already do." He laughed out softly and raised his eyebrows as he grabbed a pencil and started writing something. Finch leaned over slightly to read what he wrote. He had always admired Mal's handwriting. Finch's handwriting wasn't bad either, but Mal's was just..sublime. Beautiful even. Sometimes a bit unreadable, but if he simply took his time with it, he would always eventually figure out what it said. "Hmm, what am I? Some type of drawing machine? Heh, just joking, you know I'd love to make another drawing for you, or of you. It doesn't really matter to me." He shrugged and leaned back a little bit, ruffling his own hair. "You're right about that though. You don't have to love it to be good at it, but you should at least like it. Even if it's just a little bit, otherwise you're just wasting your own time too."

Finch reached out to grab Mal's hand and pulled himself up, stretching his limbs as well before turning to collect his pencils and sketchbook. "Keep you away from rotting in boredom all day, huh? Well, well..sounds like quite a big task actually..but I think I can manage to accomplish that." He chuckled softly and pushed his hands into his pockets as he thought hard about where to go. They could go out to Hogsmeade, get a few pints in at the pub, or..they could go back to their dorm and just hang there. Maybe order something and watch a movie. He was quite sure he still had alcohol laying around in the dorm. And besides, it was far too cold to stay out while they could just be chilling in their warm dorm. He made up his mind quite quickly and headed to the exit of the greenhouse, with the intention of going back to their dorm.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：finch goldhorn。⁰² mal returned to observing the drawing finch just finished – he was surprised how quickly he can produce something so accurate. or at least accurate in his eyes. it looked quite cute – and despite being alright with any type of compliments, ‘cute’ was not really a word he would use to describe himself. he smiled, and touched his face, following his jawline – finch managed to draw it at the perfect sharpness. he wondered how he could do it just by looking – mal found it easier to draw portraits if he touched people, felt their bone structure and the way their skin folded under curious fingers. he touched his lips to follow the size – he wondered if his mouth was hanging open while he spaced out, entering too many thoughts. he looked at finch again after a while, and smiled just the way he did before – it was a lost, but loving smile. he adored anyone who could make art the way finch could.

“you know, you are cute when you get all shy,” mal added, then chuckled shortly. he took his pencil, and wrote a small note on finch’s drawing – not to claim it, but to add to the memory: ‘greenhouses in winter’. his penmanship fit his overall aesthetic, it was neat, cursive, with chances of being unreadable. it looked pretty, but he knew some people found it rather difficult to read. he added a smaller note under the first one: ‘p. s. you kept me warm – mal ♥’. he handed the drawing back to its owner, with the same smile on his lips. he then continued the conversation – his mind finally able to rest. “I think it is how you see me, and it is adorable. also, do not mind if I ask for another one when I get bored inside our dorm,” he chuckled again, and picked up the flower drawing he loved as much as he loved the portrait. “someone who does not love drawing is not this good, finch,” he added, then got up from the chair.

he only now realised how stiff he felt, so he had to stretch a little. he hummed shortly, then stretched a hand out at finch to help him up. “of course we can hang out, you know I like it when we spend time together. however, I have no preference. as long as you can keep me away from rotting in boredom all day, I am yours,” he answered. it was quite right that he hated not having any plans, but sometimes he needed free days for this – for having last minute fun activities. and he was sure finch could think of something they will both enjoy. “just throw a dart in the dark, and do not tell me where you are taking me. I will follow.”

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：maël clair。⁰² To Finch, Mal was quite the model. It was funny..if Finch didn't know already that he had ADHD, he wouldn't be able to guess it with how still and perfect he was sitting. He did move from time to time, but it was just a little bit that went by very unnoticable. The only reason that Finch noticed it, was because of his keen eyes, probably? He could almost just see anything. He'd notice if an object was even a few centimeters off. Finch was quite proud of Mal, and he knew that didn't have to be said, He often conveyed his thoughts or feelings without words. Even now, as he was drawing the other, he wondered what went through his mind. This time he couldn't really guess because he could be thinking about anything. Even about things Finch didn't know of, so it was..well, it wasn't impossible to guess, but let's just say that it was hard to guess it correctly. He just let out a soft hum and continued to draw him as perfectly as he could. Often times he grabbed his eraser to erase a few lines and redo them. Finch was a bit of a perfectionist, well..not really a bit, actually. He was very much a perfectionist, so in his eyes that meant that if he'd do something, it had to be good, near perfect actually before he could ever show it or for example when it came to assignments of his, hand it in.

Finch cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck slowly, letting out a soft chuckle. "Well, I'm only drawing what I see, so this must be how I see you, or this must just be how you look. I bet that if you ask anyone, they'll agree that you look like this. What can I say, you're pretty cute, Mal." He laughed softly and held onto his sketchbook with both hands, squeezing it gently before letting out another chuckle as his cheek got kissed, humming out. "Hmm..well, I mean..that is fair, I suppose..ah, it's a deal, it's a deal. But really, if you want me to make you a drawing, I'll gladly do it. You know how much I love to draw anyway, so not like it'll be a chore or something to me."

He glanced down at his watch and raised his eyebrow slightly before looking over at Mal again with a small smile. "So then, what do you want to do now? We could hang out, if you want to? Uh, we could go to Hogsmeade, or go back to the dorm and hang there. I don't know. What do you feel like doing? I go along with anything, you know that." It was true, Finch wasn't a difficult person to hang out with. He liked doing anything as long as they were just hanging out. Of course he had a few things he liked doing the most, like everyone but it's not like he'd get upset if they wouldn't do stuff like that or throw some tantrum like he was 4 years old again. Thank god he didn't throw tantrums. That would probably leave him without friends. Then again, Finch was also a person who'd be fine on their own, but that didn't mean he didn't want any friends at all. He loved having friends and just being able to hang out with people, but he also loved his space and silence. He would normally use those moments to either draw or paint something or just listen to music while lazing around in his bed or something else. The conclusion was however: Finch was always up for hanging out no matter what, even if they'd be doing something he disliked, because when you have friends around, they can always make something that's not so fun into something that's a lot of fun.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：finch goldhorn。⁰² there were quite a number of things he liked about finch – it was true, that he knew him the least out of all his roommates. but even so, he felt an instant connection – finch liked to ramble, to get excited about things, to sneak in alcohol just so they could all laugh at each other drunk. he found that rather sweet, he liked hearing him talk even when it was hard to keep track – sometimes, mal just wanted to keep his lips shut so he can catch up. not now, now he wanted to touch his lips for other reasons – perhaps the compliments that did not stop, or the fact that finch was willing to draw him. he rarely, if ever, posed for portraits. if people drew him before, he was completely unaware of it – he was thankful finch asked, and this time, he will actually get to see how someone else sees him. he had a faint smile on his lips, and answered him with the same adoration his look harboured. “I bet you will, even if you would love to bask in the glory,” he chuckled, him and finch shared a pretty outspoken confidence that mint and eleazar liked to hide. maybe that was why they all worked together – two bulls pulling the carriage, the carriage as pretty as it could be. if the carriage breaks, the bulls fall backwards. mal liked the analogy.

he listened to finch’s instructions, and turned his head when the boy touched him. it took him a lot of strength not to turn all the way and stare at him, he tried to behave. he kept his mind busy with a few patters on some plants nearby, thinking about how they twisted and turned – much like finch’s energy. but he was not always like this – mal thought, as he sank into a memory he liked to put aside. he knew how to comfort people, but sometimes it was hard seeing people he cared about suffer. he caught finch upset in a corner once, and was reluctant to approach. the melancholy, the upside down frown, and how sadness chased away everything that made him, well, him. it saddened mal to think about it, about how such feeling could drain everything out of a person that made them so unique, and special. and finch was special – mal thought as he kept his image wrapped in ivy and devil’s snare. how those branches loved to get tangled around his neck, every time he looked sad – and how mal would desperately fight them to release finch. ‘let him be’, he would tell himself, not letting it go. he would have asked finch about it, but by the time he wanted to, his sadness was long gone.

thoughts unsettled him so much, he found himself in a trap – one that did not allow him to smile too brightly. he sighed relieved when finch announced he was done, just a little longer and he might have been trapped in devil’s snare too. he looked at the sketch, and he found himself rather speechless. he stared at it for an awful amount of time, getting close enough to see every single detail. and once he did, he looked up at finch with a sincere smile. “I had no idea you see me this cute,” he straighten up, and pulled his chair closer as he leaned in to peck finch’s cheek softly. “I love it, thank you. but you should keep it, so you can look at it once in a while and think about me when I am not there,” he winked, then looked at the flower sketch briefly. “I will keep the flower so I can think of you. do we have a deal?”

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：maël clair。⁰² "Yes, I am very sure and no, I won't miss it. I promise. It's all yours to have, Mal, take it. And cherish it, yeah? Oh, and..sure thing, I'd gladly sign it for you, but trust me, I'm definitely keeping my real friends around if I ever become famous. You're apart of that, you know? I won't let fame brainwash me, I promise. I mean, I don't think I ever could. I'd make sure to keep myself very humble." Finch glanced down at their hands and smiled slightly, giving the others hands a gentle squeeze as he looked up again, rubbing his thumbs over the backs of his hands as he slowly nodded his head, the same smile still on his face. "That's fine, really. I can work with that. I just need a few things, but I know how to get those. There's no need for you to worry about anything. All you have to do is..well, look pretty for me? But you already do, so I have nothing to worry about then, hmm?" He chuckled softly and grabbed onto his sketchbook and trusty pencil again, carefully ripping the page out of the book to lay it down on the small table the flower was on. He had to make sure to not forget to give it to Mal, afterwards.

"Mmm, we'll see. I think you deserve it, but we'll see how it ends up looking, hmm? I can't exactly give it to you when I haven't even managed to truly put your beauty on paper. That would be..a disgrace." Okay, maybe Finch was being a tad bit dramatic, but he wasn't lying. He didn't want the other to have a drawing that looked nothing like him. And that's why he was going to work extra hard. "Mm, well, then I'll do my best, but really. All I need is a good look at your face." He chuckled and tilted his head to the side as he watched Mal looking at the flower. He slightly raised his eyebrow as he studied his close movements. Finch let out a soft chuckle as he watched him starting to draw what looked like just...lines. At least for now, but he was quite curious as to where the few lines would lead to. Finch squinted his eyes slightly and reached out his hand to gently take ahold of Mal's chin, turning his head to face him and slightly tilting it to the side. "That's it."

He muttered and quickly went to work on the paper, glancing back and forth between Mal and the paper. He wanted to get his face done quickly because even if Mal got distracted then, he would have already gotten his face done. The rest wasn't that hard to do anyway. Finch looked up at Mal and squinted his eyes more, tracing the lines on his face with his pencil before nodding his head and looking down at the paper again, continuing to draw him. His plush lips, his pretty eyes, his luscious hair and his cute button nose. He made sure that everything was as precise as real life. Occassionally he let out a little sigh, and then a few hums here and there but he just kept focused on the drawing. He wanted to make it absolutely perfect, but that didn't mean that he didn't know when or how to give up. He simply just did not give up and kept pushing himself to deliver a great result. After a little while, he sighed out and put his pencil down, staring at the paper. "It's finished. I hope..I hope you like it." He muttered, suddenly getting a bit self-conscious as he turned the sketchbook around to show him the drawing.

(https://64.media.tumblr.com/5c84f6159d290cd563c89bf98f6ac690/7b9174b045b628cd-9d/s540x810/846acbfd4d6db5cb48a76d6c562fc0b7ec793972.jpg)

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：finch goldhorn。⁰² there was a soft smile dancing on his lips at finch’s words, he liked what he was hearing. he enjoyed compliments, maybe a little bit too much – he would drown in them if he could. a thousand compliments might suffocate that one word that circled around in his mind every now and then, trying to imprint itself in his very fabric. he did not let it, for his strength of character was far too great. “it is not bothersome,” he answered, reaching for finch’s cheek again seeing how he enjoyed the gesture. he caressed them very softly, and hummed shortly. “just colouring you in with other colours. not that yours are not pretty already, but I was wondering how other colours would look on you,” he kept his hand on his cheek a little longer, enjoying his compliments a little longer. “I would not want to change. I think I am good the way I am,” he grinned, then perked his ears at the other’s offer.

“really?” he was visibly happy, he looked at drawing, he thought it was too pretty to have an owner. “will you not miss it? are you sure? this is so beautiful, it belongs in a museum, not in my hands. can you sign it though? when you become famous, I want to brag about knowing you,” he said in a half-joking, half-serious tone. he was far too excited to keep any sort of constant mood. when he heard the other’s words, he looked at him for quite a while. he was taken aback, but very flattered. he smiled at him, and stared the entire time he talked. he managed to muster a few words after finch spoke, still a bit lost. “you are so sweet,” he mused, then reached for finch’s hands again to hold them just a little longer. “as long as you are aware I have adhd and I cannot stay still for an extended period of time,” he said, then moved his chair a little closer. the scratching sound made him frown, but he quickly recovered when he looked at finch again.

“I want you to keep the portrait, if you manage to draw it,” already the thought of staying still was making him erratic, he started fidgeting with finch’s fingers, trying to keep himself focused on one task. he let finch’s hands go after a while, and his eyes formed half-moons when finch tapped his nose with the pencil. “tell you what, if you manage to keep me still for a portrait, you are allowed to ask for a reward,” he turned to look at the flower, he stared at it. he tried to find one element to focus on, but just the thought of having someone this talented draw him made him incredibly delighted. he looked down at his own sketchbook, and opened it at a random page where he doodled some birds. he started tracing lines, he tried not to think about how pretty finch must look whilst concentrating on his task, while drawing him. it was already a challenge, but he tried his best.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：maël clair。⁰² Finch just watched him as he awaited his answer. He was wondering what he was thinking of at the moment. Maybe he was thinking about the flower. Then again, why would he be thinking about the flower out of everything he could possibly be thinking of. Perhaps he was even thinking of Finch himself, but..what would he be thinking of? Or maybe he wasn't thinking about anything, and he was simply just admiring the drawing. Finch was just a curious person, so of course he wanted to know what Mal was thinking about, but like he said..maybe he wasn't thinking about anything but the drawing. As he watched Mal tracing the outline with his fingers, he smiled slightly before moving to put the sketchbook down again as he reached for his right hand, bringing it up close to his lips. Finch let out a soft sigh in content and just tilted his head to the side, continuing to watch the male.

"Mmm. What's bothering you? You know you can always talk to me about anything. I will always be there for you to give advice, support or simply listen to you. It looked like you were thinking about a lot. A lot on your mind then?" Finch muttered softly as he leaned into the touch to his cheek, closing his eyes briefly before he opened them again as Mal started speaking again, a soft whine escaping his mouth as he pulled his hand away from his face. "Gosh, you're such a charmer, aren't you? Well, I'm telling you now..never change. I like that about you. It makes you...well, you."

"I want you to have this drawing. It's yours from now on, I think I want to draw something else." Finch started and turned his head to look at the flower again, reaching his hand out to gently the petals with his fingers. After a little while of silence, he turned back to look at Mal with a small smile on his face. "Are you okay with me drawing you? I promise it won't take long at all. And the only thing you'll have to do is stand for just a little while. What do you say? Am I allowed to draw you? That drawing will be yours as well. You can go back to the dorm and..heh..maybe color it in if you'd like. That would definitely complete the drawings. Always nice to add a little color, don't you think?" Finch grabbed onto his pencil again and spinned it in between his fingers like one would do with a drumstick, before gently tapping Mal's nose with it, letting out a soft chuckle as he turned to his sketchbook again, turning it over on a new empty page, ready to be drawn on. Finch loved doing portraits. He wouldn't call it his specialty, but he just loved something about putting someone's facial features all over the page. To him, it would be an honor if Mal would let him draw him. He was sure that he wouldn't let him down, he would certainly do his utmost best to put the best drawn version of Mal on his paper.

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：finch goldhorn。⁰² for a moment, he forgot where he was. finch felt so warm against his cheek, he forgot it was winter and that they were obliged to watch flowers inside a room that was way too warm. for him, it was spring – on an open field filled with flowers. where finch sat in the midst of green and colour, drawing lines mal never knew existed – and how beautiful did he look, all lost on that field. and his hand moved so gently, it followed a path that opened only for him – and mal watched as he disappeared in a ray of greens and yellows. he was far gone in this vision of finch as a mucha mural, pale colours blooming on his cheeks, his arms, in his palms. and how the colours worked with his complexion, how his expression changed according to season – fading from spring to autumn, to winter, and summer. how the sun always loved him – his skin, and his fingers. always followed him, like a sunflower – he was the flower, blooming even in the coldest of seasons. and, if he was the flower, what colour did he have? an array of pale shades came to mind, on top of each other, with signac’s pink all over his shoulders. or maybe, he was melting monet’s greens on his tongue, mal wanted to see them, all of them, dripping down to his chin, down his neck---

he was so lost that when finch spoke, he got a little startled – the image sadly ripping apart as he returned to reality. however, he hummed softly and looked at the drawing, following the outline with his fingers but not actually touching the paper. he did not want to smudge it, he found it spectacular. how finch counted all the seeds, all the petals, not missing a beat or a shade. it was very impressive, mal could never sit and observe something for long without completely falling into different scenarios, opposing scenarios. he reached for finch’s right hand, and brought it close to his mouth to hold it and appreciate it – the way it created something that was a breathing aristotelian mimesis. his craft was more beautiful than mal could ever express in words, and maybe he did not have to say anything.

his lips ghosted against finch’s skin, and it took a while for him to actually gather his shattered thoughts. when he did, he straightened his back to look at finch properly, and to touch his cheeks softly. “far too many things,” he answered honestly, knowing it was not what finch meant with his question. he still needed a moment to collect his words, they were all over the place. “but the drawing is what you meant, I suppose,” he said after a while, and took his hand away, smiling brightly at finch. “it is very pretty. much like you.”

@－ ❛ ʀ ❜：maël clair。⁰² Finch wasn't quite fond of the winter and the cold weather. Maybe that had to do with the fact that he was literally born in the summer..or maybe not. He felt however that it had to play a part in it. He just let out a huge sigh as he stepped out into the snow to head towards the greenhouse, clutching his pencils and sketchbook under his arm. Now that it was all covered in snow outside, he wasn't able to really paint some pretty flowers outside, so he settled on sitting in the greenhouse. Besides, the greenhouse wasn't bad either. It smelled really nice and it truly looked beautiful inside with all of the different colored flowers. Finch reached the greenhouses quickly and walked in, immediately being hit by the sweet smell of the flowers mixed together. He sighed out in content as he noticed no one was there. No one to disturb him while he drawed. Perfect. He sat down swiftly in front of a beautiful flower and opened up his notebook, beginning to draw the flower.

Suddenly he heard the noise of the door to the greenhouse being opened, but he didn't tear his gaze away from the flower. He was so focused, until the person that just walked in, actually went to sit next to him. A quick glance from the corner of his eyes, revealed that it was his roommate and friend Mal. He hummed softly to himself before going back to focusing on the flower, making sure to get every little detail on the paper. As Finch felt Mal leaning in closer, he slightly leaned away to give the other more space to look at his drawing while he was working on it. He knew that the male love to watch him draw, so he wasn't even disturbed by him. Mal never disturbed him, so Finch always allowed him to stay and watch. If he had to be honest, he liked it when people watched him draw. Made him feel somewhat shy, but also really happy that they would want to watch him.

When Mal took out his sketchbook as well, Finch's eyes quickly looked over at it before going back to his own sketchbook, continuing to work on his drawing. Sometimes he furrowed his eyebrows in concentration, or stuck his tongue out as he was working on a difficult part. Finch let out a soft chuckle as he noticed Mal tracing the lines on his face with his finger. Was he perhaps thinking of drawing Finch? That would be something he'd love to see. But maybe another time. If someone was drawing Finch, he wanted to make sure they had the best angle of him. One that required him to only sit and not do much more. Finch felt a small smile coming on his face as Mal leaned his soft cheek against the bicep of his left arm, his hand reaching for his own to touch. Finch just loved how touchy Mal was. It was cute. Just a little while later, he finished drawing the flower and put his pencil down, sighing in content before he turned the sketchbook towards Mal. "What do you think?" (https://i.pinimg.com/originals/8e/52/2f/8e522f4122af2a3cd347bdb4647fb1f0.jpg)