To Love Another || Neptune & Sansa Stark

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by neptune, Sep 9, 2015.

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    Seattle, 2015.
    The city has nothing left for them. April Silva and
    Roy Crenshaw don't know what life has in store for them,
    only that some force brought them together, and
    neither of them should deny what keeps them as one.
    God only knows how long it will last.

    April Silva

    April Silva

    Age: 19

    Height: 5'7"

    Personality: April is easily overwhelmed by change and can be rather shy and quiet in new situations. Beneath her social anxiety, she is warm, friendly and even a little bit motherly when it comes to certain people. It takes quite a bit to make her angry, but she avoids confrontation and doesn't often raise her voice. Being among trusted friends helps April to come out of her shell a bit more and lets loose--but not too loose--April is still a follower. Like any follower, April always does her best to abide by the rules no matter how small.

    Likes: the ocean, antiques, sweater weather, her dad's boat, alone time, honesty, fairness

    Dislikes: liars, cruelty toward people or animals, entitlement, aggressiveness, loud extroverts

    History: April comes from a small fishing town on the east coast. She is the oldest of three children and has been taking care of her younger siblings ever since her mother left five years ago. Taking care of the house while her dad was out fishing and trying to scrape together enough money to keep the family above water left little time for friends and fun. She has a small, close-knit group of girls that she has known since elementary school and they have become like family to her. After her mother left the family, April became more attached to her dad and she worries about losing him as well.

    After spending the last year at a community college in order to be close to home, April was finally convinced to transfer for a university in another state. Even though she has her whole life ahead of her, she feels incredibly guilty for leaving.
    Roy Crenshaw

    Roy Crenshaw

    AGE: 48 YEARS

    HEIGHT: 6'2''






    :.April Silva.:
    The decision to leave home and move to Seattle for school became regrettable the moment that April Silva's feet had landed on the west coast. For all intents and purposes, the ocean could have been studied at home, right in her own backyard where responsibilities would have stayed the same, where she could have continued to take care of her younger siblings and help out her dad when he needed it. John Silva had been the mastermind of this entire plan, urging her for more than a year to transfer somewhere with more opportunity, to get out into the world and get her life and stop worrying about whether or not the sky was going to fall and crash into the house. At a certain point, saying no stopped being an option.

    Over the last several weeks, April had done her best to settle into Seattle and convince herself that she was happy—or rather—that she would be eventually if she just gave the place a chance. However, it was hard not to be homesick when, compared to others, she just wasn't adjusting the same way. While her roommates went out all the time to parties, or activities or went on dates, April was stuck at the house with nothing but homework and semi-regular phone calls with friends and family back home. With each day that passed, April became more certain that this arrangement wasn't going to work out.

    Instead of throwing in the towel, packing her things and ruining her future in a fit of anxiety, April had turned her attention to her classes. It was something that she was terribly familiar with—studying when times got hard, making more work for herself so that she didn't have to deal whatever difficulty was currently plaguing her. The practice was a throw back to when her mother had left the family, and the dark-haired girl clearly remembered getting straight A's that year, on the honor roll every semester because math and science were better than crying herself to sleep at night.

    The only problem with her coping strategy was that the work had to be something that she enjoyed. In the spur of the moment in order to get some extra scholarship money, April had taken on one more class—history—because how hard could it possibly be to memorize a few dates, battles and kings?

    Much harder than she thought, apparently.

    The once attainable easy A was currently slipping through her fingers. Her last essay had come back with a much less than desirable score and April knew that she couldn't worry about two things at once. Since her family were thousands of miles away and completely out of reach, the logical choice was to talk to the professor and see if something could be done to raise her grade. The first chance April got was after a full day of classes and concentration hadn't come easily with so much on her mind. Currently, she could only hope that the man would see her, and care about helping her out.

    As she walked across campus, her cell phone began to vibrate in the pocket of her jeans. Quickly, April reached for the device and was greeted with the familiar sound of her little brother with a problem. Johnny still thought that she could solve his problems from Seattle, that she might be able to run home and make him dinner or help him with his homework; the fact that he didn't understand that it would be months before they saw each other again broke her heart.

    “Where's Anna?” she asked, speaking of the middle child as the youngest complained that there was no food in the house, that no one had bothered to make dinner and that he didn't want to eat with the neighbor's family again. April bit her lip, quelling a flare of anger for the irresponsible.

    “She's not here,” he answered, a tired whine to his voice, “and dad's late.”

    There was frustration wrapped around her sigh as she walked along, nearing the history department. “Call Anna and see if she'll come home,” she said, “I can't do anything for you—I'm not there.” She wondered if the boy thought that she was just like their mother, that she had left and was never going to come back because she found something better in the world. Guilt sat heavily on her shoulders as April made the transition from outside to inside.

    “I tried!” Johnny complained again. “She won't answer her phone.”

    “I don't know,” April replied, rounding the corner to where she needed to be. “I can't talk right now, I'm sorry. I'll call you tomorrow—love you.”

    Hanging up on her little brother, who needed her, wasn't something that April had wanted to do, but listening to him complain about something that she couldn't fix was hard. Taking a few deep breaths, April put her apprehension for her family aside and gave a few knocks on the door in front of her.

    “Professor?” she asked, peeking into the office. Thankfully, he was there at his desk, but whether or not he was busy was another story. “Hi, I'm April. I'm in your Tuesday class,” she said, sure that he didn't know her from any other student. “I was just wondering what was wrong with my last paper? Is there something I can do raise my grade?” Her eyes were hopeful as she looked at him, nervous that he would say no, that this extra class was going to come back to haunt her.
    #1 neptune, Sep 9, 2015
    Last edited: Sep 14, 2015
    • Love Love x 1
  2. || ROY CRENSHAW ||
    There wasn't much left for him at the University of Washington. That much had become clear. The Seattle peace and sweet ocean air could only offer so much, and Roy had learned that running from his problems didn't make them go away. Sitting in his creaky computer chair, the same one he'd been using for nearly two decades, he couldn't help but wonder what the hell he was doing. His time as a teacher wasn't as enjoyable as he thought it would be. Roy pinched the bridge of his nose, looking down at a pile of the pop quizzes he had yet to grade from his Thursday class. He fingered through the results before stopping to breathe, bringing a hot cup of fresh coffee to his lips for refreshment. No matter how much he drank, he never seem to be awake enough for the routine of being a teacher. I need a vacation. But the thing about vacations is that the traveler typically needed someone to go with, and Roy was fresh out of friends who could spare the time for a getaway. Traveling alone had little appeal.

    Before he could give the idea more thought, the door to his office was opened. Roy was a bit frustrated from lack of sleep and overwork. He heard the familiar voice of a student and looked up to her, prepared to snap and give the typical "I'm busy, go come back later" speech until the sight of the girl stopped him from rash action. He paused a moment and examined her before sighing. She looks just as overwhelmed as I do. I can't be mean to a face like that.

    "April," he said, pushing away from his desk and standing to retrieve his collection of freshman essays. "Silva? First year. Wrote your essay on the rise of Catholicism in England." He pulled out her completed paper, which he had graded a C, and looked up to her. "Did you read the notes I left? Says here that I thought you'd written this in a cram session overnight. I reckon you're a fine writer, but all your facts are jumbled and confused, not to mention the point of your paper went over my head." He set her paper on the top of his desk and folded his arms across his chest. She looked as tired and sad as he felt, which struck a cord in his heart somewhere deep.

    "You doin' alright, Miss Silva?"
    • Love Love x 1
  3. :.April Silva.:
    After coming from a small community college, an institution that was more or less just an extension of high school, April was used to teachers taking time out of their days to talk to students. It had never occurred to her that Professor Crenshaw may not want to speak to her, or that he didn't enjoy his job and may not have cared what kind of grades anyone received. Regardless, April was so frazzled by the conversation with her little brother that she barely had any concentration left to consider her own presence bothersome. She was still focused on accomplishing her own goal and having her grade changed, or agreeing to some kind of extra credit was priority number one, trumping the urge to worry about all of things that were beyond her control.

    The man behind the desk was handsome, if not a little worn, but he seemed welcoming enough. April stood in the doorway, ready to leave if she was instructed to as Professor Crenshaw flipped through a stack of essays. “I did,” she replied after confirming the topic of her paper. Just because she had read the notes didn't mean that she had taken them to heart, or even understood why they were there in the first place. The concept of a C, while solid and passable for some, was nearly enough to send April spiraling and wondering how long it would be before she flunked out of school and ended up flipping burgers for the rest of her life.

    All of the pressure came from within, but it wasn't something that April had ever been able to help.

    “I didn't rush,” April explained with a shake of her head, “I did it in the afternoon and I turned it in before the deadline.” Of course, she left out the fact that her history paper had come after a lab report and a few hours of math homework. “The point of it was the rise of Catholicism in England,” she added, as if it was supposed to be obvious from the title on the page, although she hadn't really cared about the topic to begin with. “If all of my facts are right and sourced, I don't understand why my grade was so low.” For what it was worth, April knew that she was grasping at straws, that the paper hadn't been very good and that there wasn't going to be any fooling the man across the room.

    It was time to accept her C and figure out where to go from there. Just as April was about to bring up the possibility of extra credit, the professor posed a rather pressing question. Perhaps it was the southern drawl to his voice, or maybe she was just so upset that she was looking for someone, anyone, to care, but the question brought a lump to her throat. Biting down on the inside of her cheek, April told herself that crying in front of this man was only going to make matters worse.

    Shaking her head, April tried to brush the question off entirely. “Could I do some e-extra credit?” she asked, dying inside as she stumbled over her words and her dark eyes shamefully began to well with tears. “Or I could write it again—if you'll let me. I'll take my time.”
    • Love Love x 1
  4. || ROY CRENSHAW ||
    Roy was caught entirely off-guard by the tears in her chocolate eyes. He'd never had a student fall to such sadness in his office before, never in his presence. Most of the kids he taught were too nervous around him to become anything close to a teacher's pet. Roy was far too prickly to ever entertain the notion of leaving his doors open to his students and their problems, either. But one look at poor April Silva made him regret that decision entirely. Hadn't he once been a freshman in college, too? Lost and alone with too much grief to keep him focused? Something tugged at his aching heart and he knew he couldn't ignore how she was feeling, not when she was here like this, regardless of the essay. Something had to be done.

    Roy began to wonder if she was one of those perfectionist students who would accept nothing less than an "A". He'd had his fair share of those. They would come to his office and beg for less strict grading, extra credit or all sorts of bullshit he wasn't inclined or required to offer. Miss Silva, however, seemed troubled from something else entirely. He cleared his throat and gestured to the chair across from his desk. "Sit," he told her. "I'll pour you some coffee."

    The tired professor didn't know if such a gesture would be appropriate between a teacher and student, if truth be told. He'd never bothered to get close. Teaching was simply a job, something he did to pass the time and keep his mind occupied from the dark places it liked to visit. April Silva was pushing him into uncomfortable territory. Roy didn't know what to do, how to feel. He simply acted on instinct.

    When the coffee was warm, he poured her a cup in a mug that read "DISNEYLAND, 1992". The mug was cracked, as if it had somehow broken and was glued back together, but it held the liquid just as well. He tossed a few packets of sugar on the desk before her and leaned back, his own cup in his hand, looking down at her with a softened gaze.

    "I know I'm just a professor, but I can, uh...I can still help. With some things." Roy met her eyes. "You're about to cry. You can't write a good paper like that, you know. May as well get it out to someone who's willin' to listen."

    He knew this was the job of her friends, no doubt, but she had come to him in a rush of tears and he wasn't about to ignore her. Roy took a long sip of his black coffee and kept her under his gaze.

    "Tell me what's on your mind, Miss Silva."
  5. :.April Silva.:The last thing that April wanted was sympathy, especially when it came from some kind of professional obligation. Although she didn't consider herself a tough or strong person, she knew when and how to suck it up and unintentionally breaking down in her professor's office was far from ideal. On top of the embarrassment and shame of not being able to handle the one that she considered herself to be excellent at, she didn't want Professor Crenshaw to think that she was pulling a stunt just so he would feel bad for her and let her rewrite the paper. Everything that April had in her academic career had been earned, and if a C was the best she could do, she wanted to own up to it and make a point to do better in the future.

    Of course, explaining herself was easier said than done when it came to the tightness in her throat and her wet eyes that she had done her best to divert. Still, the older man seemed to sense that something was wrong, and against her better judgment, April stepped deeper into his office. One cup of coffee at a desk wasn't the end of the world, nor was it a ticket to a better grade. April told herself that Professor Crenshaw was only trying to be nice, and was, perhaps a little thrown by her near outburst. He didn't seem like the type of man who was used to students crying at him.

    “Thank you,” April replied softly as she settled down into the wooden chair on the other side of his desk. She could hear him moving about the room, but her eye remained firmly fixed to the floor, as if she were terribly interested in the carpet that had probably been there since the school's creation. Eventually, an old Disneyland mug was sat in front of her, along with a few packets of sugar and no cream—not that she had even expected the sugar but it did help to sweeten the man's attempts at comfort. For what it was worth, April could tell that he was trying.

    What compelled him to do so, however, remained a mystery to her.

    Taking a deep breath, April attempted to reconcile her aversion to complaining. “It's...” she paused, jaw set as she reached for a packet of sugar, tore the paper and dumped the contents into her mug. “My brother is home alone and my sister isn't there to watch him,” more sugar, same process until the packets were empty and neatly stacked out of the way. “My dad pushed me to come out here instead of going to school back home but they still want me to take care of everything like we're in the same house.” Her hands were set around the mug instead of curled in her lap, a good place to keep them from fidgeting.

    The coffee was still too bitter, but April didn't ask for more sugar. “I just...I don't know.” She pursed her lips, now feeling rather defeated rather than upset. Finally, she glanced up at the older man and met his blue eyes for the first time since barging into his space. “I'm sorry.”
    • Love Love x 1
  6. || ROY CRENSHAW ||
    "Movin' away from home ain't easy," Roy said in an understanding tone. "Did it myself. I'm from Texas, originally. Moved out here to get away." But he didn't want to talk about that. Roy pushed himself from the desk and went over to the open window where the afternoon light poured in, and he admired the Space Needle in the distance as he always did when he was troubled and couldn't think of anything to say. He allowed himself a moment of silence before turning to the girl again, thoughts collected from a view of modern art.

    "The thing about movin' on is you gotta let go of the things you can't change. You can't be there. Fine. Best you can do is make your daddy proud by doin' good things here, yeah? And your family?" Roy didn't know what the hell he was doing, what he saying, where this sudden stroke of compassion had come from. But when she met his eyes, he found that he enjoyed being kind to her. It was rewarding. For once, his stupid job made a lick of sense and had meaning to him.

    However, that didn't change the situation much. Roy was never the kind of man to play favorites and wouldn't let just anyone come by his office and cry for a better grade. He had to play fair with this girl. "I can't give you a better grade, Miss Silva. It'd go against my academic code. But I can offer you my time. Every Sunday night I've got a study hall open in the library. No one comes regularly, 'cause it's a Sunday and kids want their parties and their rest, but if you show up I'd be willin' to tutor you throughout the semester. We can work on this paper a'yours, maybe fetch you a higher grade."

    For once, he smiled. Not a big smile, not one of any significance, but enough to show this girl that his genuine care for the success of his students was apparent and unchanged by her visit. Roy truly wanted the kids he taught to succeed, even though he could be a bit of a dick to them at times, but this Silva girl had softened him somehow and he wanted to reward her for it. He felt refreshed, in an odd sense of the word. Just enough to keep going.

    "That alright with you?"
    • Love Love x 1
  7. :.April Silva.:There was something oddly soothing in his voice. Although a small handful of people had told her that moving away wasn't easy, that they were homesick too, or had been, April had never been inclined to believe that the uneasy feeling of being so far away would pass until that moment. Instead of letting her eyes linger on her coffee cup some more, they settled on the professor's back, watching him watch the Seattle scenery out of the window before he turned back to her with more sage-sounding advice. For a moment, April thought that his accent had everything to do with how easily she accepted his words as fact—she couldn't do anything about the problems at home, but she did want to make her dad proud.

    It was an attainable goal considering the environment and what a good student she usually was. Nodding, as if silently agreeing to focus on one tangible thing, April took another sip of coffee. The dark liquid was still too bitter, never something that she enjoyed unless the cup was flushed with white sugar and cream but she still didn't ask for more sweeteners. It was a true to her personality, non-confrontational at very center and so meek that even simple requests sometimes felt like too much of a bother. It was something of a miracle that she had ended up in Professor Crenshaw's office at all. Maybe it was where she was supposed to be at that point in time, just close to the edge of breaking and right in front of her stood someone with an offer to pull her back.

    One low grade wasn't going to ruin her semester when there was a chance to make it up with study hall sessions. Mirroring his smile, a look of relief washed over her face. “That's –yes. That's perfect,” she said, finally exhaling that last of her worries for the moment. “Thank you, professor.” While the idea of giving up a few Sundays to study may have been the end all for some of her peers, April knew that her time wasn't sought after by anyone that she probably wasn't going to have anything better to do. Besides, studying was still studying regardless of where it was done, and April was sure that her only company would have been books anyway—why not spend some time with another person for a while?

    After setting the Disneyland mug back on the desk, April stood to gather herself. The same smile remained on her lips as she looked up at the older man. “I guess I'll see you Sunday,” she said, although the upward inflection of her voice made it sound more like a question. “And my next paper will be better. I promise,” she added, the slightest (possibly nervous) laugh to her voice before she stepped toward the door.
    • Love Love x 1
  8. || ROY CRENSHAW ||
    Roy couldn't help but chuckle. The smile of this strange, homesick schoolgirl with tears on her cheeks was enough to bring him considerable pause. He found that he couldn't focus on a response as quickly as he would like. There was so much distraction in her sweet face. Roy shifted in his chair after he regained himself and gave Miss Silva a subtle nod of approval, gesturing to the door for her to leave. "See you soon, Miss Silva."

    He looked forward to it all week.

    Days passed as they always did, in a boring blur that left Roy feeling disenchanted and drained. He enjoyed the work of being a professor, but he hated lectures and knew that his students hated them too. He was never a good public speaker. "Bittersweet" was the perfect word to describe his job, his social life, his paycheck, and everything else about him that he considered worthy of judgment. Deep down, Roy Crenshaw was always his worst critic, not unlike the many others who have come to know hardship over the years. But life wasn't about finding happiness anymore. It was simply about living to cope with his demons.

    By the time Sunday came upon him, the tired professor was ready for a distraction. He followed his routine and dressed for a teaching occasion, buttoning some jeans around his hips and slipping on a simple black tee. He snatched his jacket from the coat hanger and stepped out into the cool Seattle evening, twirling his car keys around his finger to the beat of an AC/DC song stuck in his head. "Love Hungry Man" was the title, he remembered. Roy wondered briefly if his subconscious was trying to tell him something.

    Roy didn't care to look up at the storm clouds rolling in as he entered the massive library in which he'd promised to meet Miss Silva. He didn't know if she would even show up, hardly anyone ever came to his study sessions and he usually just spent the time with his nose in a book and the real world far from his mind. But a part of him felt that he wouldn't be alone tonight. Roy had even dressed nicer than usual for the occasion.

    When he walked in to the library's study room and flipped on the lights, he saw April Silva sitting at one of the tables, two cups of hot coffee resting before her. His mouth fell open and stood frozen in surprise.
  9. :.April Silva.:After leaving Professor Crenshaw's office, April didn't feel like she was drowning anymore. In spite of the many problems back home that she either couldn't take care of or couldn't change, the offering of a single study session returned some of the control that a single C had taken from her. That conversation had helped to put a few things into perspective, and throughout the following week, April did her best not to feel so guilty about being thousands of miles away. Either her family wanted her to succeed, or they wanted her at home to cook and clean—they couldn't have it both ways—and April was starting to realize that she needed an attainable goal.

    Although she'd had a much needed change in attitude, the dark-haired girl was still something of a recluse. She preferred studying over parties, always politely declining the offers of her roommates to go here and there and get drunk or high. It wasn't something that she needed in her life, feeling that altering her state of mind could only lead to bad things like slipping grades or a boy that distracted her from her goals. On top of her distaste for the standard college experience, April was finally starting to be content on her own and each night that she sat down to do her homework or write a paper, she was happy to find herself falling into a routine. There was no helping the fact that she was a creature of habit.

    When Sunday evening finally rolled around, April was out the door early and offered no explanation to the other girls as to where she was going. Admittedly, both of them looked surprised to see her dressed and out of her room, or not curled around her books and laptop. For the first time since leaving home, April was excited about something and it didn't matter that it was only a study session where she had to waste her time trying to understand the ins and outs of whichever history period—it was productive, something to do that could only help her in the long run.

    After grabbing two coffees from a nearby cafe (as a way to say thank you), April continued on her way to the library. There was a distinct chill in the air, and a few strong gusts of wind that ushered in the darkening clouds overhead. April walked faster, reaching the largely empty library before the rain started to fall. Looking around, the silence was nearly palpable but still relaxing as she found a table and began to set her things down. Even though she was ten minutes early, she had expected someone else to be there, but she supposed that Professor Crenshaw hadn't been kidding when he said that no one ever came.

    Taking out her text book, April flipped it open to the last section they'd covered in class and looked over a paragraph or two as she removed a few packets of sugar from her pockets and laid those on the table as well. After a bit of sitting by herself, she could feel another presence in the room and looked up to meet the surprised eyes of the man who had invited her there in the first place.

    “I know I'm early,” she said with an apologetic smile, although made sure to keep her voice contained. “And I wanted to pay you back for the coffee the other day.” She gestured to the other cup, still warm and untouched on the table while her own had been dismantled and filled with sugar and cream. There was enough leftover to sweeten the second drink, but April suspected that the professor took it black.
    • Love Love x 1
  10. || ROY CRENSHAW ||
    Roy could barely think straight, let alone speak. He watched the steaming coffee sitting atop the oaken table with suspicion, as if he expected it to grow legs and dance around. How was this possible? He couldn't grasp the concept that April Silva had considered him enough to purchase him a cup of coffee when money was so few and far between for college students. She didn't have to return any favors. Still, Roy was...flattered. I'm flattered. It had been so long since he felt that way, he'd almost forgotten what that particular joy was like.

    "Early? No, no, by all means, you're fine." Roy scratched the side of his beard, a nervous habit he'd developed over some point in time. "I'm glad you're here. Didn't think you'd come, to be honest. Thought you'd bail like most of my other students. Not to pre-judge or anythin', I just know where priorities are."

    The less weary professor crossed the room to where his pupil sat eagerly, placing his briefcase atop the table by the coffee. He grinned at the Seattle's Best label. "Better than Starbucks," he pointed out. "You've got good taste. Thank you, Miss Silva. It means a lot." Roy took a sip of the hot, bitterly black taste that he'd grown to love. She even remembered how I like it. Sweet girl.

    "How was your day?" Roy asked, popping open his briefcase and pulling out a few books and papers on English history. He figured it was best to start with a little lighthearted conversation before they delved into the nitty-gritty of the Catholic past. "Sundays are always boring 'round campus. I know study hall ain't somethin' to loo forward to, but it gives ya somethin' to do, doesn't it?"

    He couldn't tell her that he was pleased she came. Could April ever really know how much the thought tutoring her had brightened his spirits?

    Roy hadn't even brought a book to read if she'd bailed.
    • Love Love x 1
  11. :.April Silva.:Confusion crossed April's soft features as the professor made mention of his true feelings. She wondered why he had extended the invite if he hadn't thought she was going to show, or maybe, he didn't think that she was all that serious about her grade. If there was one thing that April was truly committed to, it was maintaining impressive marks and just because she didn't particularly care much for history didn't mean that she was trying to get by on doing less work. Correcting the older man, however, didn't seem like a wise decision and for a moment or two, he looked rather excited to have her there. Perhaps his Sundays were lonely and he was just surprised to have company and hot coffee.

    “You're welcome,” she smiled, pleased by his approval. She watched as he came closer and took a seat, amused by the briefcase she didn't think he had. He didn't seem like the type for one reason or another, but again, April didn't voice her opinions. She was used to keeping quiet about her thoughts, having learned to censor herself in order to avoid stressing others out and that practice carried over into her adult life as well.

    Reaching out, April grasped the edges of her textbook and slid one finger under a page, letting a stack of paper fall across a few of her fingers as answered with a shrug. “My day was fine,” she said, which was rather typical coming from her. It wasn't often that she got out to do anything exciting, and fun might have involved a long phone conversation with her best friend back home. All of that sounded rather pathetic, unfortunately, as if youth was just passing her by as she stuck her nose in books and somewhat refused to make new friends. Sometimes, being shy was unbearably hard.

    “I didn't...have anything to do anyway,” she admitted, eyes darting down to her open book and then back to the older man. She smiled and breathed a laugh, “I don't go to parties or anything—but I do want a better grade.” Outside, the beginnings of a rainstorm began to fall and April could hear the droplets gently pelting the library windows. She hadn't been in Seattle for very long, but she had already grown experienced with all of the rain; so much more than the east coast.

    Being the world's most boring twenty-something aside, April was ready to get started. Instead of asking about this or that figure, though, something else left her mouth. “How was your day?” It seemed like a fair question, a polite return since he had already asked her.
    • Love Love x 1
  12. || ROY CRENSHAW ||
    She was certainly a surprising girl, this April. Roy looked up from his papers to gaze at her pointedly. He admitted to himself that he was glad she wasn't a part of the college party crowd--Roy had seen his fair share of young freshman girls become targeted by frat brothers, spineless punks who deserved more than simple expulsion. He wouldn't wish that fate on any young lady. Especially not one of his own students.

    "Good," he said at last, pushing those unpleasant thoughts aside. "To both things, I mean. The parties an' the grades. That's a good mindset to have as a freshmen. At any age, really."

    When he had flipped to the page in the textbook he wanted, Roy paused and took a sip of his coffee, sighing in relief at the warm taste. It would certainly wake him up, that much was clear. He set the cup of Seattle's Best beside him and met April's eyes once more.

    "My day was fine," he said rather casually. "Got to visit with an old friend of mine back from Texas. It was good to see 'im. I don't get enough time to go back home nowadays."

    But he never wanted to. Not really.

    "Anyway, shall we get started? The chapter coverin' the essay subject was fifteen B. If you read the whole thing, you should've had a good grasp on how to write the paper..." He chuckled. "When there's not a whole family 'cross the coast to worry about, huh?"
  13. :.April Silva.:While it may have been a good mindset, April knew that it was also a boring one. From time to time, even her friends back home made comments about her old-maid ways, questioning why she never went out to the parties that the other girls sometimes invited her to, or why she never went on any dates. It had been the same way during high school; when the other kids were out getting drunk and high, April was studying and taking care of the house. After her mother left, she had been forced to grow up rather quickly and responsible adults didn't party, they didn't have time for dates and drama and they definitely never spread themselves too thin. Maybe the professor didn't understand that, though, maybe he just thought she a good kid by nature rather than choice.

    Instead of launching into an explanation that had never been asked for, April listened as the man spoke briefly about his time with an old friend. “That must have been nice,” she said, but noticed a certain kind of sadness in him and his words. Texas didn't seem like it held very many good memories, but again, April didn't push. The point of being there wasn't to get to know her professor, it was to do some much needed improving to her grade before a single history class prematurely wrecked her future.

    Luckily, Professor Crenshaw was ready to keep them both on track and April flipped to the appropriate page in her text book. “I did read it,” she explained with a nod, but left out the part about how boring it had been and how many breaks she'd taken in between. Normally, April could force herself to get almost any assignment done but there was a roadblock when it came to history—especially periods that she wasn't particularly interested in. It had been that way since high school, but the bad habit had been easier to manage back then. “I think this paper is better than the other one.”

    At least, she hoped it was. Laughing softly, April had to agree that it was tough to deal with family issues from thousands of miles away. “They keep calling me for things that I can't fix,” she said as she dug through her bag for a copy of the most recent essay. “And my dad's no help, so I just have, I guess.” Laying the paper on the table, April was prepared to look it over and fix any potential problems when a clap of thunder from outside startled her into a slight jump. Seattle's rainy weather definitely took some getting used to.

    • Love Love x 1
  14. || ROY CRENSHAW ||
    Roy couldn't help a deep chuckle at her jump of fright. Seattle weather was a constant change, one that certainly demanded time in order to grow accustomed to, but April's reaction to the thunder was too humorous to ignore. He kept his laughter bottled as he pulled out his reading glasses so he might read the textbook more clearly, giving her a look of encouragement for a moment.

    "Learnin' to deal is a good quality for a college kid. Trust me. Been there, done that. As for the thunder, you just gotta ignore it." He grinned again. "Eventually, you just stop noticin' it's there. Force a'habit. It's not so bad once you just--"

    As if on cue, the thunder clapped louder than cannonfire. The lights in the library flickered once, twice, three times before finally failing and leaving teacher and student stranded in the dark.

    "Shit," Roy whispered. He didn't move for a long time, hopeful that the blackout was temporary and the lights would return at any moment, but they were not so lucky. The two sat in silence and darkness, accompanied by the horrendous downpour echoing in from the outside.

    "April? You alright?" He reached across the table to find her in the blackness, placing a hand on her arm when he'd located her. "You ain't 'fraid of the dark, are you? I'll find a light if you wait here a minute."
  15. :.April Silva.:The east coast definitely saw its fair share of rain, but sitting in a quiet library and suddenly hearing a loud clap of thunder was startling. Her reaction seemed to entertain the professor well enough, however, and April managed a laugh of her own. She wasn't afraid of storms, quite the contrary, and more than anything, she wanted to be curled up with a good book, a warm sweater and a hot cup of tea while the weather did what it did best outside. It was nights like this that made her miss home, where she longed for a simpler time where her childhood was still good and no one had relied on her for anything more than getting on the honor roll.

    “It's not so bad,” April said, ready to explain that she wasn't scared but another loud clap of thunder rattled the library and took the lights with it. Suddenly plunged into complete darkness and unable to see more than a foot in front of her, April couldn't help but laugh at the irony. This was hardly her first power outage, but she had expected the lights to flicker back on soon enough. Instead, they continued to soak up the darkness and the sound of a relentless, heavy downpour from outside.

    Finally, the professor spoke and April paused before she could answer as she felt his hand on her arm. She told herself that he was only trying to find her in the darkness, that his comforting touch didn't mean anything when she hadn't needed the touch to begin with. “It's just the dark,” she said and reluctantly pulled away so that she could feel around for her bag.

    When she had first come to the library to study, April had made a point to turn off her cell phone and stow it away in her purse. With how frequently her brother called, it had been safe to assume that her night would be interrupted by yet another crisis that she could do nothing about. Finally, April found her bag and pulled it across the table, moving her text book aside so that she could dig around inside. She found many things before locating her phone—pens and pencils, her wallet, a make up bag and some keys—but she powered up her phone with the press of a button.

    “I'll help you look,” she smiled as the large screen began to glow. It was a little intense, but April didn't mind and was happy to be able to see again. She looked over at Professor Crenshaw, ready to follow his lead in hopes of saving their study session. In the back of her mind, though, she was almost sure that the night was a lost cause. “Where do we start?” she asked, standing and pointing her phone in a few different directions. In the dark, the library looked overwhelmingly large.

  16. || ROY CRENSHAW ||
    Perhaps he had acted without thinking, and not for the first time. Losing his conscience was becoming a common thing around this student of his. But regardless of whatever force it was that instructed him to reach out for April Silva, he regretted it. He was a professional. No matter the circumstances, he should never place a hand on his student, never. It could cost him his job.

    Professor Crenshaw made it a point not to touch her again.

    Deep in the bottom of his massive laptop bag, he pulled out a small flashlight and clicked it on. Bright white light illuminated their surroundings, but only just. The two electric lights combined made things more bearable, but still too dark for either of them to continue their study session. With an uncomfortable sigh, Roy pressed on into the darkness, knowing that his student wasn't too far behind him.

    "I don' know what kinda backups they got in here, but there should be somethin' in the teacher's loungs. Just there." He pointed across the hall to a door that read "EMPLOYEES ONLY," looking back to April to make sure she understood. "Just don't go tellin' teachers I let you in there, yeah?" He smirked. "Not even on this one occasion. C'mon." Roy gestured for the teen to follow him into the lounge. He opened the door with a slight creak, shining his flashlight inside to see that the room was empty. Not that he expected any different, of course.

    Roy examined some of the cupboards for some sort of light source, be it more flashlights or battery-powered lamps, he was unsure. He hoped that April knew she had permission to do the same. After a few minutes of silence as the two searched for assistance, Roy reached into the final cupboard and pulled out some old red candles and a few candlesticks. "Well," he sighed, "not what I was hopin' for, but it's somethin'. You find anything?"
  17. :.April Silva.:
    While her phone may have provided some light, everywhere April didn't point the thing was still shrouded in almost complete darkness. She aimed her phone where she thought the professor was, hearing him dig around in his bag until he produced a miniature flashlight. Their combined lights weren't much, but they were enough to get them through the library without stumbling around too much, or walking into a chair or a table. April followed along, hoping the night could be salvaged and that her grade wouldn't need to wait until the following Sunday to improve. For now, she didn't voice her concerns, even if the urge to reschedule was on the tip of her tongue.

    Soon enough, the two came to the teacher's lounge, and April gave a soft laugh at Crenshaw's comment. “I can't make any promises,” she teased as she followed inside, trading the dark of the hallway for more darkness. “Professor McMorrow might want to know what I think of the coffee.” In retrospect, April was sure that the crotchety biology professor was more likely to tell her to go fuck herself than ask her opinion on the school's coffee. Regardless, she felt at ease with this man in front of her, relaxed for the first time since making the move to Seattle.

    With one hand still holding her phone, April used the other to pull open a few cabinets underneath the sink and rifle through them. There was little there besides some basic cleaning supplies, and an old coffee can or two. She moved on, down the line past spare mugs, plastic containers and a shelf that seemed totally reserved for junk. Finally, April came to a useful cupboard and reached toward the back for a pack of matches. They looked old, but she was sure they still worked. Next to the match book was a flashlight, but it was hard telling how long the blue Maglite had been there.

    Standing, April noticed the candles in the professor's hand. “I found these,” she said, holding up the matchbook with a triumphant smile, “and this.” Setting her phone down on the nearby counter, April gave the flashlight a click and hoped for a miracle—but she was severely disappointed. “I think the batteries are dead,” she frowned, giving the flashlight a few light taps with her hand. The bulb remained dark and April shrugged at the loss.

    “Should we go back to the library?” she asked, sure that studying by candlelight wouldn't be so bad.

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