|
Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 30, 2007 20:20:46 GMT -5
In spite of Dylan’s reassuring presence behind her, D’rorah continued to feel quite out of her element on the broom. His uttered assurance that she was alright, while well intentioned, made her slightly more nervous. She had already nearly spilled the both of them onto the ground and was afraid that, in the end, she succeed in actually doing so. The tightening of his arms around her only seemed to mirror in him her fear that they would soon both fall off.
She leaned back at his direction, feeling her back rest against his torso as his hands moved to cover her own. She took another deep breath. At any other moment, the feel of him so close would have been reassuring and even inspired a feeling of security. Right now though, she couldn’t quite get past the feeling that she would manage to accidentally kill them both before all was said and done. Following his lead, she pointed the nose of the broom up slightly. “Dylan, I…” she trailed off as he quietly guided her to make her movements gentler. She closed her eyes and took yet another deep breath, coming more in-tune with her body and finally realizing the full extent of his reassuring presence.
Why did people even bother with this anyway? Apparition was so much faster… there was a bit of slight discomfort involved at first, but it was easy enough to learn to ignore it until one no longer noticed at all. “Perhaps…” she said thoughtfully, opening her eyes once again to see they had drifted slantwise across the field while her eyes were closed, “…I should ride along for a bit while you guide the broom.” Deep inside, her eleven year old self was screaming at her to get off of this broom and back to the library where she belonged. She could fly in her animagus form, she could apparate freely… why subject herself to this? Logically, she knew there might come a time when neither would be a valid option. She couldn’t cast spells very effectively while in her animagus form and she couldn’t apparate while on Hogwarts grounds… so learning to fly a broom, far beyond the fact that Dylan seemed to be enjoying the lesson would serve a practical purpose as well.
“How do we get down now?” she asked, able only to visualize her bringing them both crashing to the ground. “Perhaps I will learn better if I can see how you fly.” And neither one of us will be killed, she added wryly to herself.
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Cooper on Nov 30, 2007 21:56:04 GMT -5
Feeling them drifting a bit, he saw no harm in it and allowed her to gather herself. Whatever she was doing, he hoped it was helping her self-confidence on a broomstick. Considering her next comments however, he was inclined to believe that it had done little, if anything, to aid her. Nodding lightly, he regretted it almost immediately. It seemed that now that he was more relaxed and in his own element, both by being outside and flying, he forgot about these little things that he was no longer able to do without repercussions. “Okay,” he replied simply. Afterall, the easiest way to do this was however she wanted to do it; having her be completely uncomfortable and him taking control was not an ideal situation.
“Alright, lean the handle down just slightly and you should drift downwards, enough so that you could touch down,” he said quietly. As long as she didn’t panic, they would be alright. Knowing she was not comfortable, he allowed his hands to guide hers downwards. The head leant down and carried them softly to the ground. Stepping off from the broom, his arms released their hold on her own as a result and he smiled lightly.
Taking hold of the front of the broom, he quickly assessed her positioning and, deciding that it was suitable, he arched his eyebrows slightly. “Are you alright?” he questioned softly, his eyes betraying every ounce of the sincerity contained within those words. “Would you like to watch me first, or shall I lead you?” he inquired softly, his eyes locked onto hers. There were no traces of insecurity or self-consciousness; it was just him, her, and the activity he loved most.
|
|
|
Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Nov 30, 2007 22:18:52 GMT -5
Relieved to be back on the ground once again with the help of Dylan's guidance. She stood by patiently as he dismounted and repositioned himself at the front of the broom. "Yes, I am fine," she replied quietly, a hint of uncertainty in her voice as she met his eyes. "I would like to have you lead me. I have watched people fly before... perhaps being led will be more beneficial." She smiled happily as she finished answering, realizing that he seemed himself for the first time since she had initially been summoned to the infirmary to check in on him after his attack.
Leaning forward slightly, she gave him a light kiss. "Have I told you today that I love you, Dylan Cooper?" The words were soft and full of the emotion they were intended to express. Waiting for him to mount the broom, she wrapped her arms around his torso to secure herself. Her face came to rest over his shoulder, in the angle formed where his neck and shoulder met. "I do believe this is my favorite part of the lesson," she quipped, whispering into his ear. She prepared herself for takeoff, ready to observe and try to figure out exactly what it was about this whole flying thing that she didn't seem to get.
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Cooper on Nov 30, 2007 22:48:31 GMT -5
Remembering to avoid nodding this time, he felt that everything would take a bit of getting used to. It was only to be expected, but still he worried. Shoving the thought to an infrequently searched corner of his mind, he smiled softly as he felt the touching of her lips against his. His eyes softening, too, as she spoke, he appreciated fully the fact that she had remained with him throughout this. Most people would have run for the hills -- too much to deal with for such little benefit. D’rorah, however, was not most people. “You haven’t, no. Then again, I have failed to do so as well, so all is forgiven,” he replied succinctly, climbing back onto the broom.
Being before her this time, instead of behind, he felt more normal. He was not used to having other people lead the broom by any means. Feeling her arms find his waist almost a whole second after he had seated himself upon the broomstick, he smiled as she leant her head into the crook between his shoulder and neck. Gaining a playful expression at her words, he turned his head in order to gain better access to her lips. “Be careful,” he warned quietly, his face the epitome of mock seriousness as he pulled back.
Facing the front once more, he wondered what she might prefer. Deciding that perhaps he should keep the dive-bombing until a bit later, he smirked at the very idea and took off at a light pace instead. They rose steadily, going forward all the time. When he deemed them high enough, he spoke back to her. “Hold on tight, my l-,” he said quietly, trailing off toward the end, hoping she would not notice his uncomfortable beginnings of an endearment. The last time he had used it, it had not been received too well, and he was determined to avoid saying it again.
The broom moved according to his every whim, the lightest of touches sending them on the perfect angle every time. Increasing the speed a bit, he circled them around the pitch a few times. As they went, the wind rushed through his unfamiliar hair, seemingly going right through his veins and revitalising him in a way nothing else could. Almost caring to laugh, he felt he wasn’t quite there yet, and increased their speed ever more. They weren’t going fast, by any means, but it was certainly faster than her animagus might go.
|
|
|
Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 1, 2007 3:02:21 GMT -5
D'rorah's hold around Dylan's waist tightened slightly as Dylan took off at a slow pace. Sitting here, allowing someone else to guide the broom felt immensely safer than having to do so herself. Gone was the worry that they would end up smashing into the stadium walls or plummeting to the ground only to end as a twisted pile of robes and wood. As she grew more comfortable, her grip slackened a bit and she soon heard the admonition to hold on tight, followed by what would have almost certainly been 'my love', had it not been cut short. Her brow furrowed in confusion. Had she offended him in some way so great that he no longer thought the expression apt?
The thought was put on hold as he began to move more quickly and her grip reflexively tightened around his waist. She noticed how lightly he steered, how the broom almost seemed to read his mind for him as they traveled around the pitch.
Thinking to get a better feel for how his hands actually held the broomstick, she gradually ran them down along his arms until her hands rested atop his. Now she could truly feel just how light his touch was as they moved around the pitch. Obviously, it was nowhere near as fast as she had seen quidditch players fly during games, but she knew he was holding back for her sake. Really, this wasn't bad at all with him steering--the air ruffling through her hair and caressing her face, the excitement of speed--all could be safely enjoyed through this arrangement. In a moment of daring, she leaned closer to his ear. "Faster, my love," she spoke the term of endearment she was almost certain he had abandoned earlier, eager to hear it carried out now that she had heard him begin to voice it.
Her grip tightened slightly in anticipation of increased speed. She was starting to feel, perhaps, like this flying thing might not be so impossible after all. This particular flight did not seem unpleasant... then, perhaps that was just the benefit of her flight instructor. Nevertheless, sitting on the broom, at least, was beginning to feel like less of a traumatic experience in and of itself.
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 1, 2007 4:19:10 GMT -5
Feeling her hands slide down his forearms threatened to send tingles down his back. The current exhilaration of finally flying once more, however, overruled any other feeling; good or bad. Hearing her voice emit a request that he would never even conceive refusing, he caused the broom to put on an impressive burst of speed. As unfamiliar as the new model was to him, he could connect with it well - - not as well as he might with his own, perhaps, but well enough for now. Soaring around the pitch, he found himself eager to pull off some more exciting moves. Then, considering her lack of confidence on a broom, despite the fact that he was leading it, he decided to enlighten her a bit and allow her to prepare for what was to come or request that he withhold his desires while she was still behind him. “I’m going to do some aerobatics. Hold on tighter,” he called back to her.
Adding a new level to their speed, their surrounds flew past in what was beginning to become a blur. Weaving, rolling and putting on random bursts of speed, he tested what this broom could do and found himself pleasantly surprised at its ability. Knowing any words would be lost on the wind, he kept this observation to himself for the time being. Smiling broadly now, he caused the broomstick to do things one might never dare to try in a real game of Quidditch. With a playful expression on his face, he assessed that she was holding tightly enough for him to perform the one action that had been on his mind since before they had even entered the grounds.
At his light touch, the broom steadily gained height. He circled in the air for a few moments as if he were a buzzard in the desert, eagerly awaiting the death of prey. His next touch on the broomstick was, out of necessity, slightly harsher than normal. Sending them both into a nose-dive, he held an overjoyed yet concentrated expression upon his features. The wind whipped at his face and pulled back his hair to its most extreme, sending wave upon wave of thrilling exhilaration through his veins. The ground approaching at an incredible rate, his light form and that of D’rorah aided them considerably when he finally pulled out of the dive; they were only metres from the ground. If there had not been two on the broom, he would have dared to go further, to go faster. As it was, he neither wished to scare her too much, nor injure either of them, nor attempt something he had not done before. With the added weight of another, the broom had already taken longer than usual to pull out, and he was incredibly glad that he had begun the process of leveling out earlier than his usual standard.
Easing around the pitch just once or twice more, he finally touched softly down to the pitch surface. His feet feeling the solid ground beneath him once more, he immediately checked on D’rorah. Turning his head to view her, he held an amazing smile; one quite reminiscent of those he had adorned before the attack. Nothing, at that moment, was further from his mind than that fateful night. “Are you alright?” he questioned happily, his eyes shining with joy.
|
|
|
Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 1, 2007 11:47:33 GMT -5
D'rorah felt Dylan go faster and instinctively tightened her hold on him. Hearing him say he was going to do acrobatics, she fought the urge to close her eyes and replaced her arms at his waist, holding on tighter and praying they wouldn't both die in some mis-performed stunt. The faster and more trickier the flying became, the more her hold tightened around his waist. At the end, as he rushed toward the ground, her hold became tighter and her eyes grew wider as the ground rushed closer and closer. At the very end, she buried her face against his back, unable to watch what was certain to be an imminent disaster as they sped toward the ground. Surely, the attack couldn't have caused madness? She wondered.
Finally, she felt them slow, felt the absence of the collision she had thought was imminent. She looked up again just as they were touching down and watched Dylan turn to her. Her eyes were still wide and she could feel her heart hammering in her chest. "Yes, yes, I am perfectly fine," she replied emptily, her voice somewhat wooden from shock.
She blinked a couple of times and seemed to regain herself somewhat. "Might I ask one question? Are you completely insane?" She would never be able to do anything like that on a broom... D'rorah Philosophy, who could battle Shadows, the sorts of things people had nightmares about, who had never before in her life admitted to being afraid for herself, looked rather like a scared little girl at the moment. Then, realizing, she was probably crushing Dylan, managed to remember to slacken her grip now that they were both stopped. She could meld to Shadow Form and travel with much the same speed... but flying around on a broom didn't appear to be something which would ever be her particular cup of tea. Laying a kiss on his cheek. "I love you Dylan Cooper, but you are absolutely mad," she teased, her tone of voice only vaguely resembling teasing as she pushed through her own shock.
How silly D'rorah, to be scared of such a thing. Snap out of it! Staring at the world like a complete moron will not alter the situation any. Pushing her own fears and shock aside, she finally managed a smile. "So then, you are the seeker for our house, I hope?" she asked finally, her voice sounding more like her normal self.
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 1, 2007 14:16:23 GMT -5
His smile faded slightly at her expression; she appeared simply shocked, more than anything, and she didn’t sound fine, by any means. At her next question, his smile disappeared in earnest. Floundering for a moment, his brows creased in anxiety and he looked absolutely distraught. “I’m sor-” His apology was cut short by a swift kiss to his cheek and an exclamation of love. Rather lost for words, he wondered at her tone. He could recognise the teasing lilt within, however minute it was, but his now-normal feelings took over and he appeared incredibly embarrassed. Flushing, he kept his eyes averted from hers and barely registered the fact that his waist was free of its mild embrace.
Seeing her smile, he wondered how genuine it was and considered her question. “I… I’m a keeper,” he admitted quietly, his head turning away from hers as he climbed off the still-unfamiliar broom. He was sick of feeling this way, of doubting himself at every turn. Here he was, finally finding some semblance of happiness, and he was throwing it all away because he was suddenly far too temperamental. Shutting his eyes forcefully, he brought his hands to his head and crouched down upon the soft grass. He attempted to stem the flow; once just one negative thought escaped through his barriers and into the free-flowing jumble of his mind, they all spilled forth, creating havoc as they went.
|
|
|
Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 1, 2007 14:38:37 GMT -5
D'rorah watched as Dylan's smile left his face, feeling her heart rip in two. Here, he had finally looked happy, had finally had the light in his eyes that had been missing ever since his attack, and her stupidity had taken it all away. She watched as he closed his eyes and sank to his knees. "It was only a joke, I only meant..." she stammered and trailed off, unsure of what she could possibly say, feeling a lump form in her own throat. She sank to her knees beside him and placed her hands on his shoulders, the broom falling forgotten on the ground beside them. "I just have to become accustomed to the broom, is all. I was..." her lip twitched slightly as the hated word issued from her mouth, "frightened."
She wanted nothing more than to return to the moment before her wide eyes had seemingly ruined his only fun in days, but didn't know that it was possible. It was so difficult lately... everything seemed to set him off, initiating wild mood swings. He had been so steadfast before, so hidden with his emotions... so much more like she was. Would this last forever? Would the boy she had grown to love forever have to be handled with kid gloves?
"Really, with a bit more practice, I am certain I will be fine. I told you that you would have your work cut out for you, did I not?" She watched him, hoping he would turn his eyes toward her. "Please, just look at me," she pleaded. "I cannot seem to do anything right lately... and I do not know what more I might be able to do." Tears welled in her eyes as she made the last statement, one spilling over and trailing down her cheek to her chin.
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 1, 2007 16:04:08 GMT -5
Hearing her words, his heart sank even further. On top of everything, he was making her feel bad; infecting her with his negativity. “I’m sorry… I just wanted…” What had he wanted? He didn’t even know, couldn’t even comprehend what might have been going through his mind. Feeling her hands placed on his shoulders, his eyes were clouded with absolute sadness as they faced the ground, registering that her knees had also found the pitch. Lost, completely and utterly lost, as to what to do, Dylan cursed the fact that they had found themselves in this situation.
He felt trapped in his own mind, cornered by the conflicting emotions within him. He wanted more than anything to go back to how thing had been before all of this, and yet he wished for him to simply stop feeling like this; to stop this childishness. He yearned to be anywhere else, to be anyone else right now. Mentally slapping himself, he attempted to pull himself together; for everything they had. His eyes reached her face, her eyes, upon request. The pleading in her voice was almost more than he could handle.
His arms wrapped around her and pulled her close, even as he inched himself forward a few feet. “You’ve done more for me than you could possibly imagine,” he whispered in return, pouring his breaking heart into those words. “I love you Dee, I’m sorry… for everything.” Feeling a light patter of a tear upon his shoulder, he pulled back and gently wiped away the wet trail it had left behind. All pretence forgotten, he pushed aside any more feelings of self-pity. They clearly did neither him nor her any good, and only seemed to create rifts between him and the one woman he loved most in the world. “Don’t cry, my love,” he uttered quietly, completely forgetting about his previously uncomfortable feelings on the matter.
|
|
|
Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 1, 2007 16:27:22 GMT -5
D'rorah felt Dylan's arms wrap around her and fought to choke back the tears which had invaded the sanctity of her face. Her arms wrapped around him in a reciprocating movement as she rested her head against his shoulder, suddenly exhausted from everything that had happened over the past months. Between the stress of preparing for a war and finding all of the emotions that had previously lain dormant until meeting Dylan... between being tortured in the Shadow Realm and meeting Astraeus Cooper and enduring the aftermath of two attacks on Dylan and having to deal with the fact of her own inattentive Elemental Master, she wasn't sure there was anything left of her strength. With great difficulty, she forced her tear ducts and herself to calm.
She stayed there for a moment, taking a couple of deep breaths as she hugged him tight. It was her father's voice she heard right then, admonishing her that perhaps she was taking too much on... that perhaps she wasn't ready for all of the intense emotions brought about by a relationship like this. It worried her to think that he might be right; perhaps this simply wasn't within the realm of her ability. With another deep breath, her hold slackened slightly before she finally pulled back, her face showing a smile she had dredged up from some unknown reserve.
"Shall we go again then? Or would you prefer to go back inside? We can always have another lesson tomorrow or another day." She laughed slightly. "Or I could just watch and be frightened from a distance," she offered in a lightly joking tone.
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 1, 2007 17:23:16 GMT -5
“I’m quite tired,” he replied quietly, his eyes gently surveying her features. Climbing to his feet, he provided a hand to aid her standing movements. Drawing her close, his eyes ran up and down her face for a moment before he kissed her, softly. Pulling back after a moment, he smiled lightly. “I love you, D’rorah,” he commented softly. Taking her hand in his own, he decided to forgo the painful process of summoning their brooms and simply gathered them manually instead.
“All in all…” he began in a serious tone of voice. “I’d say that went rather well,” he concluded, a barely noticeable trace of teasing residing within his voice. His hand squeezed hers lightly as he began to leave the pitch. Attempting to regain some semblance of normalcy, he offered a slight smile. “Maybe we might do better when I’m a bit more recovered,” he added lightly, continuing up the slopes toward the castle.
|
|
|
Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 1, 2007 17:40:37 GMT -5
"Went rather well?" she questioned. "Yes, I particularly enjoyed the part where I was afraid for my life," she bantered back. She nodded at his estimation that they might do better when he had recovered. Though, she wasn't really sure his flight performance was in need of improvement. Perhaps he meant 'they' as the two of them in general. Yes, maybe things would be easier for them both when he had recovered. She followed along beside him as they made their way back to Hogwarts. Perhaps they both simply needed a break... she was thankful that winter holidays were moving ever closer.
With that thought, she looked over at Dylan as they crossed the grounds. "Have you any idea what you are doing over the winter holidays?" Certainly, she had nowhere to go. There was no family to visit and she definitely wouldn't go to see the caretaker who so obviously loathed her and went to no trouble to hide the fact that she was unwelcome in his home. Of course, she knew she was no more welcome in Astraeus' home, so perhaps remaining at Hogwarts was the most sensible option. She had access to all the reference materials she needed... the thought of going to New York to utilize the library left to her by her father also crossed her mind, but she wasn't sure she wanted to face the empty apartment that haunted her nightmares alone.
|
|
|
Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 1, 2007 21:28:38 GMT -5
"Well, you obviously haven't got enough adventure in your life, my love," his tone was teasing as he enjoyed the banter between them, and his final two words portrayed an emotion so deep that he was quite unable to express it in any other way. His hand remaining the only physical connection currently between the young pair, he was glad at the multitude of other connections that were normally always present. It made him feel a lot calmer, more relaxed, and able to move on with life. Without her to be with him through this troubled time, he was nothing.
"Winter holidays?" he parroted, turning the matter over in his mind. Normally, he would simply go home to be with his mother and foster family. He suspected, however, that D'rorah would not let him go alone to be subject to John's madness; he also knew that his mother would, by no means, allow her back in the house as things currently stood between them. He wanted to be with her over these holidays, in fact. It was some time they could spend alone together, recuperating from the damage they had sustained throughout the term. It would be a very good time to relax.
Recalling that he had offered accomodation at his own house over Christmas, he wondered at how much things had changed since that day. With an ever-so-slightly disdainful look, he replied. "I'm going back to visit my mother for a little while..." he began quietly, not mentioning a specific time frame, for he himself didn't even know how long he might be there. All he knew was that he could not leave his mother alone on Christmas. He still loved her, afterall, and refusing to see her would only make her detest D'rorah more than she already clearly did.
|
|
|
Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 2, 2007 0:42:05 GMT -5
D'rorah nodded as Dylan stated that he intended to see his mother over the holidays. Of course, she had expected as much. Though, she knew she would almost certainly not be welcome. It was a tough decision for her of what to do... if she attempted to accompany Dylan anyway, Astraeus would take offense with her for intruding into the family. If she simply stood back and let mother and son have their space, Astraeus would take it as an abandonment of Dylan and would almost certainly find some way to throw it back in her face later. This would have to be handled carefully.
"I am certain she will be quite happy to see you," she replied simply. It irked her that Astraeus disliked her so; not because she felt any compulsion to be a well-liked person, but because she had no intention of driving a wedge between Dylan and his mother. At the same time, she did not intend to stop seeing him, which was clearly the only course of action which Astraeus would find acceptable.
Of course, there were always things to do, places to go, business to attend to. She could train with Master Po. She could spend time in London searching out the rift she suspected was being opened there. She could research. She wanted to spend time with Dylan, but wasn't sure how it would work out. Most likely she would be limited to visiting him for a weekend or perhaps a few days during the break. Dylan was not of age and, she presumed, not necessarily free to roam about the world as he pleased. Certainly Astraeus would not approve of him leaving to visit D'rorah and would not approve of having her there to visit. Suddenly, she wasn't looking forward quite as much to the approach of the holidays... it would mean separation from Dylan far more than it would mean time together with him. "If only she did not hate me," she thought to herself, realizing too late that she had actually spoken the words aloud. She decided it best to simply move along. Without skipping a beat, she continued talking. "Perhaps I will go to New York to finish attending to family business. There are always many things to do in the city during the winter time. And I could use my father's library. It might speed my research along."
She considered all of these things, steadfastly refusing to acknowledge her statement regarding Astraeus' hatred for her. "If you are able to leave, perhaps we could spend a day or a weekend together," she added, disappointed at the knowledge that it was likely all the time she would have with Dylan over the course of the break.
|
|