It's much later in the evening when we get back from our faerie seeking quest than originally planned (there was... an incident with Gil's pony) and I have to rush to get to the library before it closes. Gil and Alica opt out, deciding to go eat supper while there still is some and we part ways in the front hall. There is nary a person in the hallways as I make my way to the second floor. The library door is still unlocked and I barge through into the virtually empty room. The only other person in the room jumps up at the loud sound and steadies himself on the front counter.
"Oh, hi Percy," I say, surprised. He's clutching the front of his shirt and glaring me in a murderous fashion. "I didn't know you worked in the library."
"Only the evenings, a few times a week," the prefect says quietly. "Gives me extra credit and something to distract me from my impending finals...."
"Right, you're graduating after this term, aren't you? Man, I'm glad I'm only a sixth termer."
"Yeah, lucky you," he mumbles and then clears his throat. "I'm gonna tell you the same thing I told the other guy who apparently can't figure out how a clock works; the library is closing for the night, you need to leave."
"No, no wait, I just need one book!" I say, throwing up my hands as he moves towards me. "I know exactly where to find it, won't take a second!"
Percy frowns and huffs. "Fine then," he says, walking behind the counter to fish out the huge books that the library uses to record who loans what and when. "But be quick, I need to lock up and I'd want to get some supper too."
I don't mention that it's more than likely that most if not all of the food will have been consumed by the time he can make it into the dining hall, but decide against it and dash to the shelf with the books on magical creatures. My fingers dance along the spines of books until I find the one I'm looking for and pull it out of the shelf with a triumphant smile.
The book next to it catches my eye and I have to take a second to make sure I'm not seeing things.
Slowly, with a trembling hand, I pull out The History of Sorcery and The Great Battle from the shelf and stare at in in disbelief. I don't understand... What is it doing here? In this shelf? In this school. I didn't know there were any left, I thought they'd all been burnt.... I run my fingers along the author's name in the bottom of the page, and a small smile tugs at the corner of my lip without my permission. Sharon Rey...
"Are you coming?" I hear Percy's voice from the front of the library and I snap out of my thoughts. I glance back, making sure he can't see me, but there's rows and rows of bookshelves stuffed to the brim between us and I quickly cram The History of Sorcery and The Great Battle into my bag. My heart is racing when I jog back to the counter and give Percy my most charming and innocent smile. He doesn't buy it, or if he does he doesn't show it at all.
"Sorry, it took longer than I thought to find the right one," I say sweetly as he raises his eyebrows and marks down the name of the book I'm borrowing.
"Sure... Sign here," he says, pointing at the last column on the page and I take the long quill he offers me and sign. "Now get out so I can close."
"Sir, yessir," I say and bow, skipping out before he has a chance for a comeback.
The History of Sorcery and The Great Battle is burning a hole in my bag as I carefully refrain from running back to my room.
~x~
I'm sitting at the desk, leafing through the faerie book and penning down a new letter when Gil walks up behind me.
"Do you still need that cup?" he asks, gesturing at the mug on the desk that had previously been filled with ginger ale. Gil - being the mother hen he is - had brought me said mug from supper, along with some bread and ham. It's empty now, resting next to the plate cleaned neatly of all crumbs.
I pick it up and hand it over. "All yours, buddy," I say, dropping it onto Gil's hands. He mumbles a quick thanks and then disappears into the lavatory connected to our room. I lean back on my chair, watching after him curiously. I can hear the water run for a moment and then he returns, cup presumably full, small droplets of water sliding down the outside and along his fingers. He sets it on the desk by the wall.
"Water?" I ask. He smiles.
"Yeah, well," he starts, going over to his bag and rummaging through it. "I picked these flowers from the forest, and I figure I should put them in water before they dry. We have no vase, but the cup doesn't look to bad, right?" He returns to the desk and places four blue-violet flowers in the cup. I don't recognize the species. They sag a little over the edge, but they look pretty and smell nice, so I guess it doesn't really matter.
"Yeah, they look good," I say and Gil looks away bashfully. He rests his hand on my shoulder for a moment but then lets it slide off and he moves back to his bed and his open history notes. I glance back at him after a minute but he's completely preoccupied by his studies and I decide not to say anything. The sweet aroma of the flowers fills the room as I write another letter to send the boy in case he doesn't respond tomorrow. I hope he does. Eventually we decide that's enough school work for one night and get ready to go to bed.
The flowers are already perked up a bit when I walk past the desk to turn off the lights.
___________________________________________________________
Heyyyyyy, I'm not late, you're late. Yeah yeah, sorry. The problem with knowing what you're gonna write is that you know what you're gonna write, so you don't really get the "I'll just start somewhere and see where it goes" feeling it's just "I'm not entirely sure where to start but I know where it needs to go and so the starting feels forced or sth". Or is that just me? Did you even understand that? Like... if I know where it's going it feels more like a chore and less like an adventure. Or something.
ANYWAY.
Bed time now I think. Bye.
Pie out.
ps ur topic is "steel"
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