Post by Theodore Nott on Apr 21, 2017 16:21:11 GMT -5
He removed his hand very quickly, as though receiving an electric shock.
His expression fell and was no longer dangerous: just his usual, broody, knitted brows and sullen look. Of course he felt uncouth for grabbing her like that. He had been brought up better, and had never touched anyone like that before. She wasn't to know that though, was she? While he felt a rush of humiliation swarm his very being, it didn't quite show on the surface: instead his lip tightened, and he returned his gaze to the fire.
"Right," He murmured, almost inaudibly.
Well - that explained it, at least. The overwhelming desires to please and be within close proximity to her; the excruciating pain he had in the centre of his chest as he tried to suppress such uncharacteristic feelings. She was a Veela. Well, half, but he supposed the effect was more or less the same. In a way he felt angry with her for being that way. Then, he realised, she couldn't really help it; and that at least she wasn't some other diabolical beast - like a werewolf or something. At least her blood was the blood of a beautiful creature...
Then he felt angry at himself for not being able to control himself.
Then he thought he heard her voice wavering, and looked up again. Ah - right - she was crying. Her eyes were welling up. Well, he didn't really want that, at any rate. "I'm sorry," He managed, finally, beating back his pride. "It's getting late..." He stated, pointedly, as though that was an indication that they should cut their time short. He'd clearly spooked her, and it was just going to be frustratingly awkward now. "You're probably tired. You should... probably go to your dormitory."
He stood up himself, still looking at her. There was a hint of something that could have been concern within his eyes, but it was so difficult to tell. He was always frowning.
His expression fell and was no longer dangerous: just his usual, broody, knitted brows and sullen look. Of course he felt uncouth for grabbing her like that. He had been brought up better, and had never touched anyone like that before. She wasn't to know that though, was she? While he felt a rush of humiliation swarm his very being, it didn't quite show on the surface: instead his lip tightened, and he returned his gaze to the fire.
"Right," He murmured, almost inaudibly.
Well - that explained it, at least. The overwhelming desires to please and be within close proximity to her; the excruciating pain he had in the centre of his chest as he tried to suppress such uncharacteristic feelings. She was a Veela. Well, half, but he supposed the effect was more or less the same. In a way he felt angry with her for being that way. Then, he realised, she couldn't really help it; and that at least she wasn't some other diabolical beast - like a werewolf or something. At least her blood was the blood of a beautiful creature...
Then he felt angry at himself for not being able to control himself.
Then he thought he heard her voice wavering, and looked up again. Ah - right - she was crying. Her eyes were welling up. Well, he didn't really want that, at any rate. "I'm sorry," He managed, finally, beating back his pride. "It's getting late..." He stated, pointedly, as though that was an indication that they should cut their time short. He'd clearly spooked her, and it was just going to be frustratingly awkward now. "You're probably tired. You should... probably go to your dormitory."
He stood up himself, still looking at her. There was a hint of something that could have been concern within his eyes, but it was so difficult to tell. He was always frowning.
