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redlemonaide
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It was a girl's voice, talking to someone who must've been there already. "Jay? Hi," she said, the two words emphasized by a clearing of the throat in between. Despite the distance, the blind girl could hear her just fine, though the voice was somewhat familiar it wasn't anyone's she recognized. Someone else must've been out there and she hadn't noticed it. It wouldn't be the first time.
A hesitant hello followed. It was a male's, deep and quiet. There was silence, which was perfectly fine for Briar, who was just about to jump off a building with the main protagonist of her novel. The boy in real life had other ideas, though,.
"It was a terrible morning," he cried. At least, that's what it sounded like to someone trying not to listen in on a conversation in the silence of an empty, fall courtyard. "At least for me. I feel like shit. I hope you're doing better at least."
She decided to pull the scarf up around her ears, maybe that would help. They were getting cold anyway, too. Her protagonist pushed his hands to either side of the bricks around him, his toes digging into their grout to keep from falling too quickly to his death - he was the kind of guy who would rather examine clay drying while bleeding out over watching the sidewalk run up for a big, head-splattering hug. Looking up just in time to meet the antagonist's eyes, he thought "Who am I kidding? No I'm not," and closed all four limbs around him as he was barraged with what felt like bullets to his leather jacket. Covering himself from the attack kept him from seeing the white ground as it enveloped him. "Thank the gods for snow in July," he whispered, the unnatural berm much gentler than concrete could ever try to be.
"Were you avoiding me?"
That wasn't the book. Briar held her breath and stared hard at the black-brown deadspace of the wall in front of her. Oh god, drama. She'd recognized the 'voice by now and should've known there was a chance he would be out here again, but she couldn't have guessed her stalker-creeper would have brought company. Actively ignoring the rest of the conversation, she glared into her book, somewhat more aggressively sliding her fingers across the lines as the main character slid across the icy street to avoid his pursuers, aggressively shooting back at them with less intention of killing as maiming so he could have a more successful getaway.
The blind witch on the other side of the lawn was having significantly less trouble, but trouble nonetheless. The couple across the way had started having a regular conversation, discussing like near-adults and expressing themselves with healthy lilts and flux - it was becoming easier and easier to disregard as background noise. That is, until their speech started slowing down, angsty teenage pauses louder than anything they could've said. She could still ignore it. Right?
"You know, if you're cold we could just go inside," he offered.
Yes! she answered in her head for the girl. It must've been Kiyoko, from the night before, the one the Weasle had been targeting.
Instead of waiting for an answer, though, he upped the ante with "I know several different ways to warm you up."
Briar's hand slid to a stop, her mouth parting ever so slightly. That statement alone was enough to accomplish his goal, but she didn't think it was meant for her. All the same, the heat rose from her flipping belly up to her eyeballs a a simultaneous chill went down her back and froze her in place. What, other than drama, were teenagers good at? Sexual tension. Now she knew what pink felt like. Oh god, the one time she sat on the opposite side of the tree so she wasn't hiding and the only people to enter do so from the opposite end of the courtyard, had no idea she was even there, and decided to start flirting. Heavily.
Kiyoko's voice had dropped in volume, but the slow cadence made her words clearer than volume could have. "Do elaborate." She practically purred! There was an unmistakably soft sound, then she added, "I'm all ears."
"I'm not!" The blind witch called. She closed her book, shoved it into her bag, pulled her coat tight around her and tried to imitate a turtle as she headed for the nearest gap in the cloister. Her steps weren't light and her toe caught on the stone as she stepped onto the walk. Oh god, she had to get out of there, but she'd already announced her presence. Throwing her hand in the air to indicate she was fine and to make it clear she was, in fact, leaving, she shouted with a hysterical break toward the red blur that could've been mistaken for a single person, "Happy Halloween!" then rushed back inside without another glance.
Hustling down the hall, she threw herself around the first corner and leaned against the wall. Was she panting? Briar clamped her mouth shut, that was weird. Her eyes angled for the ceiling where she suspected no one would be making innuendo at the expense of a poor 16-year-old girls sanity. Hopefully.
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