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Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 2, 2007 1:30:52 GMT -5
Noting her use of the singular pronoun, he figured he ought to have assumed as much. She did not intend on coming with him, and indeed he had virtually come to the conclusion that she would not be visiting Astraeus alongside him. Whatever happened, he loved his mother, and he loved D'rorah; he would not be made to choose between the two and he was quite certain about that. He was confident that Dee would never request such a thing; surely she realised how close he was to his mother? Then again... their relationship ever since D'rorah had arrived had been quite tense. Initially, it had not been because of her, but because of the death of someone whom he had considered a father. Gradually, however, the two causes had largely swapped importance.
When it came to his mother, though, he did not think that she was so enlightened where his feelings for D'rorah were concerned. He had attempted to talk to her the first night of their arrival, but she had automatically made up her mind; someone so austere was not suited to him -- he deserved better. After he had stormed out of the kitchen, refusing to respond in anything less than a shout, he had been absolutely furious. She always refused to listen to him, insisted on treating him like a child. It was as though she never wished for him to grow up.
Reaching the castle, he said a momentary farewell to the bare nature outside that had strengthened him so. He wondered if he would have acted the same had he been inside these walls. At her next words, a series of events occurred, most of them contained only within his expression. His eyes darkened slightly, forlorn about the circumstances. While he genuinely didn't believe that his mother hated D'rorah, he could definitely see how she might go that far within her own head. His mother was simply over-protective, and had gained a bad first impression. He was perfectly able to understand the cause of Astraeus' frustration, but he could not abide by it, either.
As she mentioned research, his heart sank slightly. "Research..." he parroted lightly, thinking. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to help, Dee. I know I said that I'd help, and i've sort of been... unable lately." He was well aware that not one of the other lightfighters had offered to help her in her conquests, not to mention the fact that he knew exactly how much work was required to be put into one text alone. He assumed that, considering how much time she had spent with him recovering in Tel Aviv and in the Hospital Wing, she had not really used much of her time to research lately.
As she concluded, he once more had to deny himself the urge of nodding. "That sounds nice, I'm sure I'll be able to escape for a weekend or two," he responded lightly. With the tension that he hoped would not be present with his mother, but that he assumed would be there anyway, he would be glad to have a few days of relaxation and peace with D'rorah; those precious days could be a beacon, of sorts, bringing him out of despair and into the realm of hopes and dreams.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 2, 2007 1:50:25 GMT -5
"There is no need to apologize. The circumstances which led to your inability to contribute to the research were beyond your control." She shook her head. "To be honest, I find myself encountering so much duplicate information lately that I am beginning to wonder if there is any point in continuing." She paused for a moment. "Of course, such omissions are the sort of thing which may be harmful in the long run. Actually, even with everything that has been happening, I have been able to devote a fair amount of time to my research." That time, admittedly, was time she probably should have been sleeping, but she still considered it as having been put to good use.
As they reached the landing of the third floor stair, D'rorah had a thought. She wasn't sure how receptive Dylan would be to it, but figured there was no harm in telling him her idea. "I wonder. Though I am not welcome in your home, perhaps I could stay in Alconbury? Perhaps between the two of us we could divine some way to make her tolerate me." She thought for a moment. "I can research in a hotel room there just as easily as I can anywhere else."
"Of course, if you would prefer to have the time alone with your mother, I understand. But, if I am close by, perhaps we would have a few hours from time to time while she is busy with... while she is unavailable." It sounded like a good idea in theory... she could be close to Dylan while still giving Astraeus whatever space she needed. She still didn't understand what had gone wrong... she had done nothing more than behave in the polite manner taught to her by her parents upon first meeting Astraeus. She wondered at what point exactly she had earned the woman's scorn and decided that the only incident which could possibly fit the bill was the kiss in the piano room. That simply had to be it.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 2, 2007 16:26:01 GMT -5
Glad that at least he was not deterring her from her work completely, he thought of the assignments handed to him by D’rorah previously, who had of course requested them from professors. He didn’t want to get behind in his learning; not now, when every extra spell could be a life saved. Admittedly, not everything was seemingly vital for any upcoming battles, but he had missed Defence Against the Dark Arts. While the end of their last lesson had not gone well, the class itself had been quite educational and suited to everyone’s needs, including his own. He’d been rather put out to miss that lesson, actually, despite the obvious necessity for it.
Listening as she broached the subject of perhaps staying nearby, he could find little fault in it. They continued down the third floor corridor, hand in hand, and he considered it further. “That sounds nice, actually,” he responded quietly. Then again, ‘nice’ might not be the correct term when dealing with his mother and D’rorah all in one theory. “There’s a hotel just around the corner that I’ve heard is good,” he added lightly, remembering the various reports he had received from his mother. Thinking for a moment, he continued. “It’d probably be the best way for her to try and get used to the idea of us.” Indeed, he could not shove their relationship down his mother’s throat, and the removal of D’rorah from his mother’s presence altogether would only ensure her idealistic victory. Dylan wanted the two of them to at least tolerate each other, and so far his mother was stubbornly refusing to do so.
As they climbed the stairs up from the fifth floor, he took them a bit more gingerly. The effects of the exhilaration were wearing off and leaving behind the usually present painful shell. Finally reaching the top of the last staircase required to be climbed, they reached the common room in almost no time at all. Not caring for the snide comments received by the door knocker, he found his mind the sharpest it had been in weeks. Luckily, the riddle was not difficult, and, grudgingly, the door was revealed.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 2, 2007 22:23:38 GMT -5
D'rorah nodded as Dylan mentioned a hotel near his home. With as little as there was in Alconbury, she had been concerned that finding a place to lodge might turn out to be somewhat problematic. "I will send a dispatch in the morning requesting a reservation... perhaps I can have a mail owl drop it in a muggle mailbox for me." While it didn't seem likely there would be any real need for a reservation, she thought it best to secure one considering it would be during the holidays, which were most likely a busy time of year for any inn.
She waited as the door delivered a riddle and Dylan provided an answer. She knew the knocker was looking for any way it could to stump her for the sheer pleasure of denying her entry to the common room... they had developed an odd competition between them. Despite the door's snide comments it seemed to be compensating for Dylan's current condition. She followed him inside, still holding his hand, and headed for an open couch near the fireplace. She knew it wasn't quite his favorite armchair by the fireplace but hoped he wouldn't mind too much having to sit with her.
She threw away all of her usual formal protocol and curled up at the end of the couch, pulling her feet into the chair with her, something none of her fellow Ravenclaws would have ever seen her do before. She simply decided that she felt like being somewhat casual... slightly curled up, she leaned against Dylan's shoulder and allowed her eyes to rest in a halfway shut position. "Thank you for the flying lesson," she remarked quietly.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 3, 2007 1:40:43 GMT -5
“Good idea. An unusual amount of people like to rent out that hotel at winter time… Normally it’s just a bunch of extended relatives who can’t fit into their family’s homes,” he responded quietly, unsure as to where he’d like to sit or what he’d like to do. Settling for allowing himself to be led to a comfortable blue couch before the fire, he smiled lightly as she settled in and curled up.
Taking a seat at the other end, he drew her closer, noting that she appeared to be truly relaxing and assuming that perhaps their relationship no longer needed to be discreetly maintained. Afterall, they had not gone to many lengths to hide their relationship, they just hadn’t broadcast it. After everything he had gone through, he didn’t much care what people thought about it, he just wanted to gain as much comfort from her as possible.
“It was my pleasure,” he commented as she rested her head against his shoulder. His hand remaining in hers, he ignored every other presence in the room and focused only on the young woman in his arms. “I wonder when I should resume classes. I’ve only finished my Transfiguration and Charms assignments so far…” he added in a quiet voice. Normally, they would have all been done and he might have slipped some research in with it. As it was, however, his mental abilities were severely diminished, as well as his spellcasting.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 4, 2007 15:56:39 GMT -5
D'rorah brought Dylan's and her intertwined hands to rest in her lap. Absently the thumb of her other hand traced over the backside of it his hand as she spoke. "I would recommend waiting. I can continue to bring you assignments while you rest." She squeezed his hand lightly. “You will delay your recovery if you continue to push yourself so hard. If you need help with the lessons, I will be happy to offer any assistance I am able to provide. She wrapped her arms around the arm that was entwined with her hand and settled in against him. Now that she was reassured that things would be somewhat back to normal between them, his presence once again felt secure. She had always seen to her own safety and security, more or less… her parents had largely left D’rorah to her own devices, wanting her to grow up as an independent person; and also knowing that it would be far easier for her to learn control of her emotions at such a young age if she avoided deep emotional entanglements with them and learned to deal with her problems herself. They had loved her, and she had loved them… but the family’s closeness had been somewhat different than that of other families.
She lowered her voice to the barest whisper at her next statement, not wishing to be overheard by others in the common room. Her position of being nestled against him made it much easier to speak softly. “We should get away for an afternoon during the next weekend… take some time for you to rest away from the concerns of school.” She cringed inwardly at all the time she was spending away from her research. Even though she managed to devote several hours each day to the research and academics, it was nothing like the ceaseless pursuit she had followed before. Most would call it some semblance of balance in her life between work and play; D’rorah however, felt as though she was being somewhat lazy and self indulgent. Things would return to normal though, once she had seen Dylan through his rough patch—the workaholic in her demanded it.
Her eyes drifted a bit further shut as her largely sleepless nights began to catch up to her. She wondered if it would be possible to simply fall asleep here, on the couch in the common room. Perhaps she would once again be able to enjoy a night’s sleep relatively free of nightmares as she had in Tel Aviv. Likely though, Dylan would sleep better in his own bed, rather than lumped up on the couch. She decided not to speak up, but to wait and see how the rest of the afternoon and evening progressed.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 5, 2007 17:05:37 GMT -5
Smiling lightly at the wonderful simplicity of her actions, he reciprocated the squeezing of his own hand and listened to her words. In his heart, he knew she was right. But that pesky other half of him, which did, in the end, come in useful sometimes, was saying that if he was well enough to be out of bed then he was indeed well enough to cope with attending classes. Given his previous experience on the matter, he decided, grudgingly, to abstain from lessons for a little while yet. As he came to this conclusion, he felt her arms wrap around his own and calmly settled against him. That one small action brought an even greater smile to his face.
Throughout most of his recovery period, she had been there. To help him, to calm him, and to ensure that he got a decent night of sleep every now and then. He wondered how things might have turned out without her help. Dwelling on the idea that perhaps he would not have recovered nearly as fast and would probably still be residing within the Hospital Wing, tossing and turning painfully with the nightmares that plagued him so. On that thought, he wondered how much sleep he would get now that they would be forced to separate into their own dormitories. Not much, most probably. Such a thing could only be detrimental to his recovery, but it was either that or putting up with the nightmares; the ripping of his body, the agony of the Cruciatus Curse, the stench of his own burning skin. Shuddering away from such thoughts, he drew her closer in an attempt to ward them off.
Hearing her whispers, he considered them for a moment. Given the thoughts now pushing against his stern barriers, creating a headache that was so common nowadays, an afternoon away from everything sounded like a great idea; too good to be true, in fact. His memory, so unstable these days, managed to recall that he was supposed to attend detentions every weekend. Where that came from, given he hadn’t thought on it since before the attack, he had no idea. “I’m supposed to serve detentions during the weekends,” he replied softly, realising just how stupid it sounded as he spoke the words aloud. Of course, he had already taken one of those weekends off for the funeral… Would he really be allowed to remove himself from his punishment further? The mere appearance of him might indicate that he would be given some slack, but he suspected it would not entirely be the case where Headmistress LaPointe was concerned. Perhaps he could approach Professor Archer… The man seemed friendly enough, and Dylan perceived that he would have a much better chance of avoiding detentions if he spoke to the man who had given them to him in the first place.
Pulling her ever closer, he rested his head against her own and, with one last glance at the occupants of the Ravenclaw common room, closed his eyes. He would gain far more sleep by remaining in her arms than he ever could alone, and so, despite the slightly awkward position, he would allow himself to drift off to sleep whenever it encroached upon him significantly enough. His only worry remained in the concept that one of his own house mates had been the perpetrator of such heinous actions; that they were watching him right now. Even so, he felt that he’d be safer right here. Any boy could go up the dormitory stairs, and any boy could enter a dorm that was not rightfully theirs; he was extremely more vulnerable alone, but with D’rorah he felt safer by far.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 5, 2007 17:34:16 GMT -5
"Detentions. Perhaps they can be delayed until you are more fully recovered," she suggested. Assuming he meant the detentions he had received from Professor Archer, she was certain he would have no quarrel with delaying them. Certainly, the man was reasonable; and really, is he were told about the fact that Gat and Dylan were opponents in the struggle between light and darkness, she wondered if he might not excuse Dylan's defensive actions altogether.
Soon, she felt herself pulled closer, felt Dylan's head come to rest against her own. Thinking that he had decided upon remaining in the common room himself for a while, she allowed her eyes to finish closing, hoping for a bit of rest that afternoon.
When her eyes next opened again, the light of late afternoon had given way to the expansive shadows of late evening. She couldn't see the time without moving, but she could tell by listening that the common room was now largely empty. With a contented sigh, she pulled closer, tightening the hold on Dylan which had slackened with sleep. "We could simply sleep on the couch," she thought aloud, her voice a whisper reflecting the fact that she was talking only to herself. No one seemed to be moving at this hour of night. Really, there was no reason to give up their warm, comfortable spot near the fireplace. Gingerly freeing one arm, she grasped her wand and transfigured one of the throw pillows into a blanket with a softly muttered incantation. Settling it over the both of them, she put her wand away and again entangled the arm she had freed with his own.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 6, 2007 16:25:11 GMT -5
Giving out only a soft murmur in response, his eyes closed. Comforted by the fire and the presence of D’rorah in his arms, he snuggled subconsciously closer to her as he drifted off to sleep. As per usual when she was this close to him, his dreams remained peaceful; but still the lingering smell of burning flesh haunted him, despite the calming nearness of the woman he loved. When he woke, he couldn’t remember smelling it… But the stench lingered on, reminding him of the constant agony. Keeping his eyes closed in a hope to dispel the pain, though the firelight seeping through his eyelids by no means aided his quest.
Seeing her hold on him quite as tight as when they’d first descended into dreams, he imagined she might have woken up and had the opportunity to pull closer. He also noticed the blanket now upon the two of them. At these thoughts, his eyes creased and the softest whisper of a smile rose onto his features. He didn’t know why, but the idea that she had woken and secured herself around him once more, as well as produce a blanket for the pair, was incredibly reassuring.
Glad that no-one else was still lingering at what was obviously a late hour, he gave one last, contented smile, and kissed her lightly on the top of the head. “I love you, D’rorah,” he muttered quietly, almost to himself. Drawing her as close as he could, he brought his free hand to rest around her body and settled back down to get some more rest.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 6, 2007 21:27:36 GMT -5
D'rorah awoke with a slight start, thinking she had heard some out of place noise in the quiet expanse of the common room. She remained still, listening intently for anything that sounded out of place. Hearing nothing, she eased her eyes open, scanning first what area she could see without moving and then slowly moving her head to look around her. Thinking that perhaps it had simply been a noise from her dream, she relaxed a bit. Only then did she look over at Dylan. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully, she smiled a bit. She wondered whether there was a rule which would bar them from slumbering in the common room for the nights to come... or whether there was actually anyone around who might care if such a rule were broken.
In the faint light cast by the last glowing embers in the fireplace, she studied Dylan's features. His scars, she had decided, were most likely not the work of a minion of the Shadow Realm. They did not possess the quality... an almost chilling quality which the handiwork of the Mage's minions possessed. No, though the wounds were obviously inflicted by with vicious and malicious intent, they weren't quite right... they reflected someone with a keen interest in torture, someone who took pleasure in the pain of others. She placed her hand upon his cheek as though somehow the simple act might take away some of the horror he had obviously endured. Catching sight of the scars which peeked out from underneath her own sleeve, she realized wryly that nothing could ever take away the damage that had been done to either of them... but it could be twisted, made to serve some higher purpose. After what she had endured, she felt as though nothing could ever be worse, as though walking through the fires of hell itself could not compare... "We will walk through them together," she murmured softly, promising herself that she would add the task of finding Dylan's attacker to her list of pressing concerns, that she would see him pay for Dylan's torture.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 7, 2007 21:54:23 GMT -5
His arms draped almost carelessly around her, loose from the effects of slumbering, Dylan's hold tightened slightly as he drew her closer. He was only half-awake, and subconsciously sought the comfort of an increased physical closeness. Issuing a small, contented sound, he snuggled himself closer to D'rorah, his arms protectively coveting her.
Feeling himself being drawn from sleep, his closed eyes opened slowly and, with a content sigh, he smiled. "Good... is it morning?" he quieried lightly, blinking a few times. His eyes soon found the fire and he regarded it solemnly; when they had descended into dreams it had been a roaring blaze, seeping through him, infecting him with comfort he couldn't deny. Seeing the embers laid bare before him was quite another thing. He couldn't explain it, but the idea of the burnt wood smoldering... It made his skin tingle. It was not a good feeling.
Pulling her ever closer, he cast his eyes away from the sight of the glowing embers to find the closest window. Seeing the barest hint of the dawn to come, he felt the final dredges of sleep fall from his body and turned back to her with thoughtful, sad eyes. "Good morning," he uttered softly, his lips meeting hers. Noting that it was a Sunday, he pulled back and attempted a small smile. "Did you have anything planned?" He did not want to keep her from her studies, nor her research... But he could by no means deny that he wanted to have her around as much as was possible. Once the schooling week started again, he had the feeling he would barely see her and wished to savour it as much as possible.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 7, 2007 23:27:28 GMT -5
D'rorah nodded silently in response to Dylan's question of whether it was morning. She saw that that particular movement was wasted at the moment, for his attention was held by the glowing embers in the grate of the fireplace. Whatever feeling the sight evoked in him didn't seem to have been particularly pleasant, but then everything else was pushed aside as he pulled her close and, with a sad smile, kissed her softly. Her own arms moved around him in response as she returned his kiss.
She looked thoughtful for a moment after his query. "Of course there are always things which could be attended to," she replied. "However, I thought that perhaps this could be your weekend." Had it indeed been her father who had once said that "books last forever, but people do not"? She wasn't quite sure how her father had managed to balance work and family but then realized that he had simply used time spend with her as time to accomplish more work. She had done a similar thing with Dylan before in sharing research with him, but at the moment she knew he wouldn't be up for that. And, how could she expect him to stay from classes if she could not even take part of the day off from her own research. Certainly, there would be opportunity enough in the coming days to make decent progress. She still had the prospect of weeks of vacation approaching with no classes or homework to fill her days. Almost certainly, she would have ample time then to make quite a bit of progress.
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 8, 2007 4:16:28 GMT -5
His lips feeling that familiar tingling as they left her own, his smile became slightly happier. The only things that might portray this, however, were his eyes. His eyes met hers and he felt glad that she would understand these things… Be there to understand. As she responded, she only highlighted one more reason he loved her. She was not toying about, pretending there was not work to be done when they both knew perfectly well that was not the case; instead, she was laying things out to him directly, allowing him to make his own judgments. With another soft kiss, he portrayed exactly how her words made him feel.
One arm moving to rest on her lower back, pulling her lower torso into his, he intensified it. He was glad it was very early; nothing stirred within the common room but the young couple upon the comfortable, royal blue couch. Dylan’s leg wrapped around her own, his free hand choosing to entangle itself within her own and squeezing lightly as he leant himself forward, pushing his body into hers and leaving no room between. His heart was steadily gaining strength, and the weakness that had haunted him for the duration of his infirmary stay was beginning to strip away, leaving behind a fresh and energised body. Apparently, a good night of sleep did wonders.
Nibbling lightly at her lower lip as a parting gift, he pulled back slightly. “Perhaps a picnic in the safe confines of the kitchen? I seem to recall a rather nice little patch of nature…” he suggested lightly, a true smile now adorning his features. It lit up his face, made him shine; he almost seemed to radiate energy. The dying embers were slightly distracting, haunting the rear vaults of his mind and tugging at him, refusing to let him be completely happy. Aggravated with such a thing, he showed none of it in his expression, choosing instead to simply smile and gaze at the beautiful woman before him.
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Post by D'rorah Philosophy on Dec 8, 2007 8:13:47 GMT -5
D'rorah could see the shift of happiness in Dylan's eyes and took heart that his recovery seemed to finally be underway. The physical part was mostly done, but she had worried about his emotional recovery from this episode, especially considering his mood swings over the past days. The next kiss he provided her with was a testament to how much better he felt, how much stronger. She responded willingly to his movements, moving closer as she found herself pulled into him. A shiver ran up her leg as his was wrapped around hers and she gave a reciprocating squeeze with her own hand as he leaned forward into her.
Feeling the sensation of a slight nibble at her lips, she gazed up into his eyes as he pulled back. The smile which graced his features as he gazed at her was so warm and bright that she could not help but smile in return. So captivated by the radiance of his eyes, she realized after several moments that she still had not responded to his question. Quickly, her mind worked to remember what his question had been. "Yes, the kitchen," she agreed. "There is a perfect picnic spot there, I do recall."
Her hands came to rest lightly upon his back as she continued to look up at him, a reciprocating smile having formed upon her own face. "A quiet day beginning with a picnic would be wonderful."
Giving him one last, lingering kiss, she smiled and began extracting herself from the couch, taking Dylan by the hand. She debated upon the wisdom of suggesting a shower, knowing that it would likely be an emotionally painful experience for him to be faced with the reality of his new scars. However, she also knew it was a reality which would need to be faced sooner. Perhaps, given his demeanor today, he would have less trouble accepting himself as he currently was. Even if it did dampen his spirits for their day together, at least it would come at a time when she could be free to soothe away whatever pain he might feel. Logically, the only true option was to suggest the shower they both obviously needed. Selfishly, she didn't want to give up this radiant smile she saw on his face.
Leaning forward, she placed a soft kiss at his cheek. "We should each have a shower and meet back here in..." she thought for a moment, "...forty five minutes."
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Post by Dylan Cooper on Dec 8, 2007 20:07:16 GMT -5
His eyes downward, a small smile on his features, he wondered at the last kiss she had given him. Sighing contentedly, he raised his gaze once more and found her eyes. Giving a small, half-hearted moan of protest as she began moving off the couch and away from him, he regarded her from behind for a moment before feeling himself pulled from their sleeping spot, too.
Smiling at the soft kiss on his cheek, he found her eyes once more and portrayed his feelings on the concept of a shower. Admittedly, he most definitely required one. Half of him tried to convince himself that the bathing he’d received from Madam Aku on his morning of departure would be enough; the half that was afraid of what lay beneath his clothing. The other half, however, knew very well that he needed this.
Resignedly, he suppressed the urge to nod and muttered a small “alright”. Attempting a smile and coming up with something that paled in comparison to his previously glorious one, he released his hand from hers. “I’ll see you soon,” he muttered softly, giving her one last swift kiss on the lips and turning to head up the dormitory stairs.
The trip upwards was not a pleasant one. From the first step, he had to struggle to keep a normal appearance for the sake of a potentially watching D’rorah. As he climbed higher, however, such a thing became noticeably more unpleasant and difficult to maintain. Finally, thankfully, he reached the fifth door up and entered through it.
Seeing no-one else within the dorm, he was grateful. Deciding to minimise this as much as possible, he stepped into the bathroom and ensured the door was locked before continuing. Taking as little time as possible to de-robe, he kept his eyes completely averted from any reflective surface within the room and stepped under the stream of relatively hot water. Closing his eyes and tilting his head back, he aimed to make this as relaxing as possible, allowing the water to cascade over his entirety.
Emerging about twenty-five minutes later, he checked the dorm once more and, after having established a significant lack of occupants, travelled from the bathroom over the soft carpet to his trunk. Catching a brief, unwanted glimpse of himself in a nearby mirror, he found himself quite unable to look away. A towel around his lower half, his upper was covered in fresh scars, his feet still bearing the remnants of his burns through a few scars. Curling his upper lip in revulsion, he felt hot tears forming and shut them out angrily, turning away from the sight and back to his trunk.
Fully clothed, he adorned a wrist-length, navy turtle neck, long black casual pants, black ankle socks and some dark trainers. Descending the stairs slower than he had ascended them, he finally reached the sanctuary of the common room and its stairless ambience. Noting D’rorah had not yet returned, he took a seat far away from the fireplace and waited.
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