I Hope He Doesn't See Right Through Me
Feb 12, 2015 4:24:44 GMT
Post by Noxienia Versailles on Feb 12, 2015 4:24:44 GMT
Noxie was feeling a severe sense of relief mixed with a good bit of doubt as she trod down the great marble staircase to the Entrance Hall. She’d finally been released from St. Mungo’s under the strict condition that she a. visit the nurse periodically to make sure she wasn’t going back downhill, b. discuss any issues she was having with her head of house, and c. write to her siblings every two days to verify that she was alright. She was quite pleased to be back at school where she was usually happiest, however, she feared what might occur now that she’d returned. Would certain events repeat themselves and send her spiraling again? Or would she have the resolve to deal with whatever was thrown at her now that she’d already gone through hitting a personal rock bottom? What if things got bad again and she wasn’t able to deal with them? But then again, this time would be different. Last time there had been too many things going on inside her brain, what with Bianca and odd feelings popping up within her. On top of it all, she was still having all of these new emotions raging within her that she hadn’t known could coexist with one another. She wasn’t used to feeling this way nor did she had any words to properly described exactly what it was. Carval had tried talking to her, but she hadn’t been able to explain it aside from ‘happy bubbles’ and ‘shattered glass’. He had gone on giving her advice that made absolutely no sense as he was referencing one of his many anime obsessions. Dina-May had failed far worse on the subject, trying to explain things but bouncing around it like it was difficult to make sense of and honestly, she had just confused Noxie even further. No, they had tried, but it hadn’t worked. Their little sister did not understand their non-blunt teachings. What if she failed and allowed herself to let it all drive her mad (well, madder than usual) again?
This time though, she had a bit more to rely on, four simple words stated when she sat bawling in her hospital bad.
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
That would have to be enough.
Having just arrived by Flooing from the hospital to her head of house’s office and wearing the (freshly laundered thanks to a certain big brother) uniform she’d left in, Noxie’s feet hit the stone of floor of the Entrance Hall and she stood there for a few moments, debating what to do next. She could either make her way down to the safe little nook of the Hufflepuff burrow, or she could brave the teeming crowd within the Great Hall that was currently having dinner. The former currently seemed the most appealing, considering she’d already eaten, however, her dorm lacked something she desired more than the fear that coursed through her at the very thought of entering the Great Hall during peek hours.
After spending the past week sporadically surrounded by people who loved her, Noxie had no desire to go off on her own just yet. She felt drawn towards the Great Hall, and thus, made her way towards it, eyes scanning her peers as they chatted to one another, eating and laughing, sometimes fighting and knocking one another about, the typical things one saw at school dinner tables. Her eyes locked onto one particular head of dark hair sitting mostly apart from everyone else at the Gryffindor table. Not wanting him to spot her, Noxie trailed her way around, her small stature easily blending in among some of the taller students or the ones who were standing. It was easy to hide among the clatter of cutlery and one particular girl’s wailings about how David had a crush on Marcy instead of her and life just was not fair.
When she was quite behind him, but still with the yellow-clad table between them, Noxie pressed through some of the first years of her house and slide beneath the table, popping out the other end with some disgruntled grumblings. A plate got dislodged, mashed potatoes landing on the top of her head, but she caught it before it could clatter to the floor. Nonplussed in her determination, Noxie set the plate down, shook her head to get some of the potato out of her hair and rose to her feet. She stepped carefully up behind Zeke Noble, quickly placed her hands over his eyes, and adopted her snobbiest French accent. “Guess who eet iz.”
This time though, she had a bit more to rely on, four simple words stated when she sat bawling in her hospital bad.
‘I’m not going anywhere.’
That would have to be enough.
Having just arrived by Flooing from the hospital to her head of house’s office and wearing the (freshly laundered thanks to a certain big brother) uniform she’d left in, Noxie’s feet hit the stone of floor of the Entrance Hall and she stood there for a few moments, debating what to do next. She could either make her way down to the safe little nook of the Hufflepuff burrow, or she could brave the teeming crowd within the Great Hall that was currently having dinner. The former currently seemed the most appealing, considering she’d already eaten, however, her dorm lacked something she desired more than the fear that coursed through her at the very thought of entering the Great Hall during peek hours.
After spending the past week sporadically surrounded by people who loved her, Noxie had no desire to go off on her own just yet. She felt drawn towards the Great Hall, and thus, made her way towards it, eyes scanning her peers as they chatted to one another, eating and laughing, sometimes fighting and knocking one another about, the typical things one saw at school dinner tables. Her eyes locked onto one particular head of dark hair sitting mostly apart from everyone else at the Gryffindor table. Not wanting him to spot her, Noxie trailed her way around, her small stature easily blending in among some of the taller students or the ones who were standing. It was easy to hide among the clatter of cutlery and one particular girl’s wailings about how David had a crush on Marcy instead of her and life just was not fair.
When she was quite behind him, but still with the yellow-clad table between them, Noxie pressed through some of the first years of her house and slide beneath the table, popping out the other end with some disgruntled grumblings. A plate got dislodged, mashed potatoes landing on the top of her head, but she caught it before it could clatter to the floor. Nonplussed in her determination, Noxie set the plate down, shook her head to get some of the potato out of her hair and rose to her feet. She stepped carefully up behind Zeke Noble, quickly placed her hands over his eyes, and adopted her snobbiest French accent. “Guess who eet iz.”
