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Post by NICHOLAS DAMIEN AVERY on Jan 24, 2012 16:31:05 GMT 1
Nick sat on the edge of his bed, not really doing anything but staring straight ahead as he tried to get his thoughts in order. He hadn't really moved ever since Quidditch practice had gotten over and he hadn't waited outside the girls locker room for Darla like he usually did. Instead he'd gone to the Prefects'Bathroom for a quick shower and then hidden in his dorm, even though the girl he was avoiding could just as easily walk in. It's not that he didn't want to face her. It was the reality he had to face when he did. He'd been putting off what he was about to do for weeks now, always looking for an excuse to chicken out or move on but now it had been one too much.
He was in love. He'd obviously known it for a very long time, even though he'd never voiced it or said the words. And it scared the crap out of him. The ability of a girl, his best friend, to have him throwing himself in front of any danger, doing anything to protect her without the blink of an eye scared him. Tonight had been no different. Instead of keeping his eye on the Quaffle, he'd kept his eyes peeled to make sure a Bludger didn't get Darla, even though he knew she probably hated it when he tried to act all over protective. But that's what scared him. The way she knew him so well, the way he would do anything for her, the amount of vulnerability he had around her and the control she had on him. She was making him weak. Love was supposed to make you strong.
Shaking his head, he looked down at his chest, where plain silver chain lay. It wasn't very obvious and if you looked once you might miss it, but it was something he always wore. He pulled out of the front of his shirt, staring at the ring he kept attached to it. He'd bought it in their fourth year and the other half was with her. Hers said 'best' and his said 'friend'. They'd kept it even after they'd become more than friends and he never, ever removed it. But now he yanked on it, ignoring the sting as the chain slightly cut his skin and unclasped. He held it in his hand, pocketing it before walking out of the dorm and then the common room.
He walked towards the potion class when he head the commotion of the team coming back. He waited on the sidelines, until he spotter her and then grabbed her wrist, gently, pulling her aside. She looked beautiful in the dim light and he tried not to let it get to his head and meddle with his thoughts. "I - we need to talk," he said, showing he wasn't joking or fooling around, but was deadly serious. Quickly pointing to the alcove he asked, "Will you come?", half hoping she'd say no.
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Post by DARLA ADRIENNE SELWYN on Jan 24, 2012 17:36:11 GMT 1
Quidditch practice was growing to be more frustrating. It all rooted down to Nick, her boyfriend and resident best friend since…well, since she could remember. The pair grew up together, friends since they were infants. It was no surprise how close they grew during their time at Hogwarts, and it’s no surprise that they’d ended up together thus far. But with years of friendship and adoration from her male counterpart always put him in the position to protect her—which brings us back to Quidditch practice. Nick was a chaser, like herself—but he’d lost the quaffle four times and and barely scored any goals. The brunette knew however, exactly what his distraction was; it was her. He’d watched her, done his best to send bludgers away from her. And though his heart was in the right place, Darla couldn’t ever sum up the words to tell him to stop. She was a good chaser already, and a knock from the bludger was just something to deal with.
Darla sighed as she entered the girl’s locker room, changing out of her practice uniform and back into her school uniform, taking the extra five minutes to freshen up. Though when she exited the room, Nick was no where to be found. The Slytherin quirked a brow as she searched for her boyfriend, but only in vain. It was never officially discussed for him to meet her, but even still—it had become routine at this point. Still, Darla shrugged it off, figuring he’d run off with his mates right after practice.
The brunette began walking with the rest of the girls from the locker room down to the dungeons. They walked through the courtyard, and Darla looked to the clocktower, noting the late afternoon time. It was chilly out, and she’d forgotten to dress warmer as she was left with her gray jumper and its green trim, and the black skirt she wore as uniform. The air continued to pass right through her clothes and as such, she hugged herself tightly, keeping warm and picking up her own pace.
The light diminished quickly as the team made there way to the common room. Darla cracked a smile, remembering the awful joke made during their practice, regarding how well they’d played that day—well, most of them. Great job guys! Now, off! You’re sent to the dungeons! It was an awful joke, but after scheduling practice on them so abruptly, their captain was overly kind and overly corny that afternoon. She kept her head up, following the crowd of Slytherins when she was pulled by a force coming from a passing corridor. Darla let out a small gasp from initial reaction before noting her captor was Nick himself. Immediately she went to kiss him, but found insult in rejection as he quickly denied her, telling her they had to speak. ”I’m….what did I do?” she asked, immediately thinking she messed up. She knew she was a bit of a flirt, but he was too. Was he getting mad about Eric again? He knew that was in the past. All these things raced through her mind as he asked her to come with him. With mouth agape she nodded, confused as to his sudden appearance and demands.
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Post by NICHOLAS DAMIEN AVERY on Jan 24, 2012 17:58:11 GMT 1
As he heard the boisterous laughter of his teammates, he could feel his confidence failing him with every passing minute. He's grown up with this girl. When she'd visited his family mansion, he'd been the one to tell his brother to pick on her, or told his sister to run off so he could be the only one to pick on her. He'd been the one to yank on the end of her pretty braids and run off so she could chase after him. When they'd joined Hogwarts, he'd been the one to fight for one more armchair so that they could sit together in front of the fireplace in the common room. When his first relationship had ended, she'd stayed with him while he vented his anger and hurt and when she'd had her first unrequited crush, he'd been there to offer a shoulder. Something told him, that the way he was about to break her, and himself, now would be nothing compared to those and to make it worse, neither of them would have the other to comfort them.
When she reached to kiss him, it took all his effort to slightly pull away instead of just pinning her to the wall and never letting her go. But he knew he had no choice. He couldn't let himself get so involved if it would hurt him one day, like it was hurting him now. He kept his hand clasped around hers though, wanting to hold it for as long as he could. As soon as they were far from prying eyes, he let her hand go, moving to the far corner of the wall so that he wouldn't be tempted to reach out and touch her, or tell he loved her or something stupid like that.
"You -" he started, wanting to say that she'd done nothing. But she had. She'd done so much. She'd been there for him, teased him, cared for him, encouraged him, loved him. And it had been just that. She was distracting him. She was making him weak and pulling him down. He was in danger of losing himself, losing sight of what he was supposed to be doing. He couldn't let a girl suddenly make him weak in the knees and have him revolve around her.
"I'm really sorry, lo - Darla" he said, refraining from calling her 'love' like he usually did. He reached into his pocket and stared at the ring and chain, before reaching out and taking her hand. Her skin was cold and it sent a chill through him, as he looked her in the eye and prepared himself for uttering the biggest lie he'd ever told. Then, before he could lose his confidence, he roughly opened her fingers and dumped the necklace there. Not wavering his gaze, he let his guard up, his eyes turning to steel. "It's over."
[OOC: Okay...had a spur of the moment idea...something to back up why he dumped her. You'll see  and I adore the gif <3]
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Post by DARLA ADRIENNE SELWYN on Jan 24, 2012 18:25:19 GMT 1
Darla stared up at him, her eyes unwavering. Something, something awful was running through his mind. It was on his face, clear as day. He rejected her kiss, then pulled away from her, so far as to go to the opposite corner of the room. Her eyes widened, looking for reasoning. She tried her hardest to make eye contact with him. She need only look at him, and usually she could tell what was wrong. It was something she just knew- one of many things that she knew about this boy.
An eyebrow rose and Darla took a step closer to him. The dungeons were dim enough as it was, and he stood near the shadows. ”Me?” she repeated, waiting for him to spit it out. ”What could I have possible done in the last thirty minutes to make you upset?” she paused, racking her mind as to what on earth she did to cause this upset. He wasn’t necessarily, angry. Darla had seen him angry before, and he’d scared her so much at the time. But on recollection, he had been getting cooler for the past month.
When the boy stumbled on his words, preventing himself from calling her by any other name other than her own, her heart sank. ‘Love,’ such a fickle term. Though he’d never said he loved her, she knew. He didn’t have to say it. But he called all girls love—he always had. His father always had—it was so second nature to them all. And here he was, going out of his way not to say it. Quickly, he moved closer to her from the shadows, his fist clenched. In bringing his hand to hers, he dumped the ring they’d each shared back in her hand. It was from years ago, something he’d bought when they were just fourteen. She knew he always wore it, on his neck, she felt the chain whenever she wrapped her arms up and around him. She herself always wore it on her finger, never taking it off.
The words to follow were deafening. Darla felt a heated migrane travel from the base of her neck throughout her skull. Then, she heard nothing but her own mind as she stared straight ahead. ”What?!” she asked, unable to comprehend the moment. Out of left field, the boy she was in love with, her best friend—he just left her there in the dungeon? She looked down at the ring and chain back in her hand. Her eyes widened as she looked back at him. ”It’s over?!?” she repeated, still wrapping her mind around the ordeal.
This was the boy she had play dates with when she was a toddler. He’d put gum in her hair and she gave him cooties. When they were eight he pulled her hair and she chased him and tackled him to the ground. At ten, he made fun of the way she flew on a broom and she tried to knock him off his broom. When they’d come to school, they were partners in most assignments. They’d built each other up to be the best Chasers in the castle. She was there for his heartbreaks, motivating him to move on. He was there for all her let-down with Eric. All of it was represented in this tiny little ring that he threw back at her. ”Why? was all she could muster up, refusing to let him look her in the eyes, to see exactly how she was.
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Post by NICHOLAS DAMIEN AVERY on Jan 24, 2012 18:42:44 GMT 1
He didn't say anything as he stared at her, the disbelief and shock coloring her face. He tried not to let it hurt him, but it did anyway. He could feel his voice choking him..it wasn't too late, he could take back the words, take back the ring and just apologize for whatever stupid thought had crossed his mind. But he had to back off from it. The only thing holding him in place was the folded piece of letter, weighing down in his pocket like a ton of bricks; lethal, sharp, reprimanding words which never failed to strike a sense of fear and hurt in him, despite his cool attitude. His father was the one who brought him up after all, and of course he'd be the one to say just the words to break him.
He shook his head, quickly backing off again, leaning back against the wall as if the whole thing wasn't bothering him at all, although it was like his heart was being shredded into teeny tiny pieces. He supposed this was the weakness his father had mentioned, she was. He shook his head. "It's not the last few minutes, or days. It's the past year, ever since we got together," he said, trying to say the words he couldn't summon, using the ones he'd read so many times he had them memorized, branded in his brain like a painful, shameful tattoo. He swallowed, looking her in eye, because as long as she, the girl who could practically sniff out a lie from him, believed him, it would be fine. As long as she didn't put up a fight, it would be okay. But who was he kidding. This was Darla Adrienne Selwyn. She was nothing but a fighter.
" Yes, it's over. You can keep anything of mine you have," he said, thinking and hoping she'd let him keep whatever of hers he had. " We won't be talking or seeing each other after today, unless it's prefect duties or school assignments or practice," he said, controlling his breath as he looked her in the eye, trying to push off whatever disgust he felt for himself onto her. Let her think it was her he was disgusted with. His father's words swirled in his head and he attempted to grab them, using them.
"You're no good for me...you're distracting me from what I really want," he said, shrugging as if he was telling her the weather. He kept his arms crossed tightly in case they twitched or moved towards her, so that she realized just how serious he was. "You're nothing but an obstacle in my way," he said, mechanically throwing the words, which sounded rehearsed to him. "Whatever relationship we had, friendship, emotional, physical...it was," he said, trying to force the words out. "It was just a time pass."
He looked back at her, his voice slightly unhinged, as he attempted to not look in her eyes. He didn't want to see them break because if he did, he'd go crawling back. "You make me weak and pathetic. I don't know who I've become around you. This isn't the real Nicholas Avery, and you know it," he hissed back. "It's pathetic what we shared, how it could bring me down. I'm just sorry it went on for so long," he said, turning to look out the window, anywhere but at her, as he let his words settle in and do their work.
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Post by DARLA ADRIENNE SELWYN on Jan 24, 2012 19:32:15 GMT 1
Darla was taken aback. She felt as though every breath was stolen from her lungs and all she had left to do was sit there and suffocate. All knowledge she ever held was lost as he spewed out his grievance with her. Everything was a lie, it had to be. She knew him inside and out. This wasn’t just him, he was put up to it, he had to have been. Still, her mouth went dry and her face was without emotion, as though she could no longer comprehend what emotion even was.
As he backed into the shadows once again, her eyes began to well up with water. She swallowed hard, keeping everything in her down and hidden. He would not see her broken. A small sniffle escaped her, though it echoed throughout the hollow chamber of the Hogwarts dungeons. The tears slowly retreated into their tear ducts and Darla went cold. A side of her that was rarely ever seen came out, a side that few even knew existed. Opposite her normal cheery and upbeat demeanor lived an ice queen so vengeful. Her mask was on, and it affect her whole body, from her voice to her body language. With new confidence, dripping with vindictive attitude, she marched right up to him, hardly whispering. ”I want nothing from you. But you will return everything that is mine.” Immediately the witch took out her wand, waving it in a circular fashion, eyes still peeled on Nick. As Nick’s apparel and gifts summoned to her in the middle of the dungeon, she took her ring off, the one he’d given to her, and dropped it in his hand adding a cool ”…you paid for it.” while waiting for his next retort. She noted yes once as he told her the stipulations, adding that they would only communicate when they had to.
Darla nodded sarcastically, as he told her she was an obstacle. ”Really Nicholas, because you know exactly what you want, don’t you?” quirked a brow, waiting for reaction at her stab. She knew she could be just as cold as he was to her. After all, they were both in Slytherin, and the pair had years of practice in fighting one another. She knew his weak points, and she knew that here now at seventeen, he couldn’t possibly know exactly what he was going to do for life. As his things continued to pile up in the dungeon, a devlish smile crept across her face and she looked back to Nick, a wicked glimmer in her eyes. It was his leather jacket, black, and knowingly dear to him. She gave a look to the jacket and back to Nick, allowing him to anticipate that something was going to happen. Pointing her wand back at the jacket she muttered, “Incendio”, and in a breath, his prized jack was right infront of him, up in flames. She knew if anything else, she’d get a reaction from that. Darla had enough of his matter-of-fact demeanor.
It were his next words that stabbed her heart. As cool and icy as she could be, he broke her, he succeeded. Again she found herself unable to breathe, holding back her tears, keeping herself afloat around him. Then he turned his back to her, and looked out the window. For a moment, just a brief moment—she hated him. She wanted to push him out the window and let him fall, ‘cause that’s what he’d done to her. But she caught herself, and a tear rolled down her cheek, just for thinking that. ”Then why can’t the real Nicholas Avery come out? Why is he too scared to even look me in the eyes?” she called out, coming ever closer to him. It was when he turned that she owned up to herself. ”You succeeded. You broke me. I hope it’s what you wanted.” she said, looking down at the ground. But just as quickly her walls went back up and she looked back to him, her eyes dark and full of hate. ”But don’t lie to me and tell me that seventeen years is nothing.” She knew it was true, he couldn’t lie to her for years. With that she started away, wanting nothing to do with him. Though a wave of heat went through her and she was more angry than she’d ever been before. She turned, she voice louder than the whisper it had been throughout their time in the dungeon. ”You bastard!” and with her anger came a slap right across his clean shaven face. It was hard, loud, and left a red mark. She looked him in the eyes once more before turning away, kicking his pile of stuff as she stepped away from him.
(OOC: was the finish too dramatic??)
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Post by NICHOLAS DAMIEN AVERY on Jan 25, 2012 8:13:56 GMT 1
Nick felt as if his heart was chipping into pieces as he heard her sniffle echo around him. It was cutting him, sharp, precise as if she knew just the things to do to make him keen over and fall. And it hurt knowing that every time Darla had ever cried, he'd been the one to hold her close and make it all better and now he was the reason she looked so broken. But it wasn't before long she masked it with a look rivaling his own and he felt like he should thank the heavens. Because a crying Darla would make him run back to her. A pissed off Darla would piss him off and make this much easier, make him seem colder. Because, really, he said a lot of things when he was angry. When she said the words that she wanted nothing from him, he scoffed and nodded. "Glad to know we're on the same page," but her next words confused him. He watched as she whipped out her wand, and for a second he thought she might hex him, but she proceeded to summon all the gifts they'd given one another over the span of oh-so-many years.
He felt the cold metal of the ring his his palm and he clenched it, letting it dig into his skin as he kept it in his hand. He wasn't exactly planning on throwing it but she didn't need to know that. He rolled his eyes at her scathing words, which were so like his fathers. "You foolish boy, you don't know anything. Your life is a mess. That's what he'd said and she was throwing it back at him, unknowingly, and he felt anger flare up in him. "You're right. I clearly had no clue what I wanted," he said, shamelessly looking her up to down as if she had just been a confusing waste of time. "I feel enlightened, really," he deadpanned. He watched her gaze shift towards his leather jacket and froze. To any other rich kid, a leather jacket was something which could be easily replaced. But not to him. "" No! Don't do -" he started but it was too late, as he felt the heat of the flames, watching his jacket catch fire. For a second, he didn't really care as he threw himself towards it, stomping the fire out first with his feet and then finally using his wand. But the damage was pretty much done. It lay in a charred, plastic like mess of gunk.
He wasn't just angry anymore, he was furious and he stood up, ignoring the burns on his hands. If he was angry before, which he wasn't, he was furious now. He felt like killing her, wringing her neck and for a flash of a moment, he loathed her. That jacket had meant much more to him than she could comprehend. It wasn't bought from some money he'd taken out of his massive bank account, but from the last bit of allowance his mother had given him before she'd died. He'd saved it up to buy something, until fifth year when he'd seen the jacket and bought it from the same money. It was akin to the last thing he had from his mother. "You really shouldn't have done that," he spat. "But, if that's the game we're playing, then fine. Bring it on" he said, stepping away and holding his hands out, gesturing around them, before summoning her own things from her dorms. He didn't even bother to see what was what before he practically set her whole trunk on fire. He was too angry to care.
He looked out the window, his fingers clenching and unclenching on the cool brick wall which he was leaning against. He could hear her demanding something from him but he wasn't listening because the only thought in his mind was that the girl he'd trusted and loved had ruined the last keepsake he had of his mother's. Sure, she didn't know it, because if she had, she probably wouldn't have done it, but he wasn't in the mood to be rational about it. He whipped around at her words. "The real Nicholas Avery? The real Nicholas Avery is standing here wondering why the fuck he wasted so much time with a girl who can't even understand him one bit," he spat out. He felt her words hit him hard, that he'd broken her but his fury was leaking into his speech and he wasn't exactly thinking straight. "Oh, yeah, Darla, he said dryly and sarcastically, " You caught me. That's exactly what I wanted, a sobbing, sorry girl who goes about destroying my mother's things." he said.
"No, you're right. The seventeen years did mean something. They meant a load of crap," he said, but before he could even comprehend what was happening he felt his head snap to the side, his cheek stinging. His hand automatically went to his jaw, because she had a mean right hook, and he looked back, his hand shaking, his eyes furious. "You need to leave. Now. You don't know what you're saying, so just leave now, before I do something stupid," he said, stepping closer in a low and dangerous voice. The last bit was a blatant lie because even in his darkest mindset he wouldn't lay a finger on her to hurt her, but she needed to get out before he said anything stupid or started breaking things. If threatening her was the way to do it, so be it.
[OOC - OMG. His reaction was so unplanned  Nope, not dramatic at all xP He's such a mean bastard.]
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Post by DARLA ADRIENNE SELWYN on Jan 25, 2012 17:42:22 GMT 1
This new personality that grabbed hold of her was so much darker than anything she’d ever done. She was fully aware as to how mean and vile she could be; how she was acting to be perfectly honest, she couldn’t care less. Though it was a continuous front as compared to her warm and open demeanor—it would take a while to chip away at this ice queen; her heart grew cold. She’s already broken her promise to herself, allowing Nick to see her as she was down, all she wanted was payback. Though the witch couldn’t find herself a long term goal, everything she felt and knew was shifted. Her biggest priority to was break Nicholas as he broke her; mentally, physically, and emotionally. The brunette’s face was emotionless and as such, with every snide remark he made, she just continued to look at him with her dark eyes, refusing for anything but eye contact. Nick knew full well that she was a fighter at heart, now he would see it.
Though she felt a pain inside her chest as she gave up the ring, the witch shrugged as if it were nothing. In all honesty, she wanted nothing more than to continue wearing it, and wearing it proudly. But Darla refused to look weak in front of him—in front of anyone. Instead, a wicked smile came across her face and she cocked her head to the side. The girl eyed him up and down and scoffed at the last moment "You knew what you wanted last night…" she teased, as she looked towards him, below the waist as back up again. He was still lying though, and as angry as Darla was, as he turned into his own monster in front of her, she couldn’t stand him as a liar. But alas, it wasn’t her place to catch him anymore, so the passive aggressive approach suited her just fine. ”You’re absolutely right. You are weak.” she paused, moving a step closer to him. ”You’re only as strong as your weakest lie, you know…” she toyed with him right on the spot, giving nothing but a knowing smile.
Darla watched as Nick moved quickly and frantically in putting out his jacket, a beaming smile on her face to see him while he was down. It was the most effective thing she’d done in the past ten minutes, and it surely got him angry. But that’s what she wanted. She was so furious, she wanted a fight and a fight full out. She would gladly bring out the worst in Nick, even if it killed her. It was her only proof that she still had him. He spat out words to her, ones that the witch simply rolled her eyes over. ”Oh no, what are you going to do about it, Nicholas?" she mocked, a look of satisfaction on her olive skin. He started it though, exactly what she wanted. As Nick gave her his “fighing words” with game references, a dark snicker escaped Darla. She knew just how he’d retaliate and when she saw she own trunk from her dorm appear, she had an idea as to how he’d react with it. Just as it was set ablaze, the witch quickly countered, putting out the fire. The witch rose a brow and continued her toying in an ever so flirty matter. “How original doing exactly what I just did. …Geez, I mean can you do any better?” she taunted him and as mean as it was, it was exhilarating. She was loving every minute of it. Every time she put him down, she felt better. ”Now Nicholas, are you really going to get in a battle of the wands with me? Really?” It would be a dumb move, but all Darla could do was anticipate it.
The moment he began to insult her, turning her words against her, she marched right up to him. There seemed to be only centimeters between them, and the look from afar was quite comical. As furious as they were, Darla was just off five foot tall, standing next to Nicholas, the odds appeared clear. But she was no afraid of him, but she knew he had reason to be afraid of her. She knew he wouldn’t lay a hand on her, but that wouldn’t stop her. She knew he would never hex her too bad, but that wouldn’t stop her. Darla at her core was a fighter, and he just let it out. ”The real Nicholas Avery is dead. You killed him and you killed the real Darla Selwyn the moment you began his façade.” she waited a moment, ready to choke on the words that she hissed at him. The wicked smile reappeared though, and she began to back away, again toying with the boy. ”It’s alright though, the new me isn’t so bad right? She’s spontaneous, she’s tougher…and she had no limits..” she dragged out the last bit, pointing to the rest of Nick’s gifts in front of her, sending a blasting curse straight for the pile. ”Well what do you want me to say Nicholas?” she chose to no longer call him Nick, he was within arms length and since he no longer had terms of affection for her… ”You thought I’d go skipping away?” she suggested, asking what her alternatives to crying at this point even were. But when he referred to his jacket, being something his mother left him, the color in her face left. She was frozen, unmoving, just thinking about what she did. She hadn’t known, how could she? But she knew the spell, and since his relationship with his passed on mother had nothing to do with her, she showed her mercy. ”You’re so dramatic. Can’t even think clearly…Reparo” she motioned her wand and quickly the pile of plastic returned to the jacket in its former glory.
Darla couldn’t help but chuckle at Nick’s response to what seventeen year meant. ’They meant something, a load of crap’ It was a bit of an oxymoron, but as such Slytherins were sorted for their cunning, not their brains. As the brunette began to walk away, in Nicholas telling her to leave, she found incentive in the exact opposite. ”Humor me Nicholas, what on Earth could you possibly do hmmm?” she cocked her head to the side, beginning to circle him. ”You won’t touch me, you can’t even look at me. You’d be dumb to duel me…” Everything she was saying was mean, but she was thriving on his anger. Now for the finishing touch… ”Does it kill you to know that you’re so weak in this position…and I’m so strong?” she toyed, just waiting for him to do anything, her wand at the ready.
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Post by NICHOLAS DAMIEN AVERY on Jan 25, 2012 18:30:24 GMT 1
If anybody else had been in the same room as them they wouldn't have noticed, but Nick had spent the last seventeen or so years around this girl. The way the air shifted suddenly in the room was imperceptible but it was very much obvious that some sort of dynamic had shifted. Because in a matter of seconds, the Darla Selwyn he knew, the one he loved was gone. He could practically hear the chink as her metallic exterior clinked into place, like a cage as she become the bitch she usually wasn't. It was a side of her rarely seen, buried deep inside and he'd successfully let it unleash. He could tell from the way that her eyes barely reacted to his words. What he couldn't tell was if this was a good thing or a bad thing.
And suddenly Nick wasn't Nick anymore. He'd prepared himself for this moment, and he'd always imagined tears involved. But he hadn't expected words to fly like daggers, piercing both of them through and through. He'd wanted to let her believe he didn't love her, to move on. Now he found himself wanting to get back at her, to break her like she was breaking him. What had they come to in a matter of minutes. He felt like maybe his father was right after all. Maybe she was nothing but a waste of space he was revolving around. He leveled her with an equally cruel grin, shrugging. "Of course my body knew what it wanted. Instant gratification, something you didn't hesitate to give in a second. What does that say about you?" he mocked, rolling his eyes. He stepped in closer, his fingers on her chin, tilting her head up. Her words echoed in his minds as his lips were inched from her, barely brushing. "You're right," he said, his eyes melting for a second, letting her show for the briefest flash how much this was killing him. "No wonder I was such a pathetic fool every time I told you we'd spend eternity together." he said, pushing her away and stepping back, letting his guard back on.
Nick didn't even flinch, studying the burns on his hand. She didn't even care. At least he knew for a fact that she'd hurt herself he'd have shown some amount of concern. He'd been hoping they'd break up and go to the awkward friends stage until it was all in the past. Clearly, that approach was down the toilet. He shook his head, frowning at her, as if trying to understand what was going in her head. Who was she, this evil incarnate? She wasn't even the real Darla, because he knew the real one and she was nothing like this. For a second he was glad he'd dumped her, instead of seeing this side later when they were still together. "You're an even more inconsiderate bitch than I thought you were," he said, plainly..not bothering with the wit or sarcasm. "Guess that shows how much we really knew each other in the past seventeen years," he said. He shook his head at her suggestion to duel her. "No thanks. I don't fancy dropping down to your level and then letting you beat me from your experience. Hexing your boyfriend when he dumps you. You're not very original either, are you?" he asked.
He watched her walk up to him, and the barely there distance between them is what made his shoulders slump. He closed his eyes, breathing for a few seconds, letting his anger churn inside him before slowly seeping out. He wasn't about to end it with her on these terms, but if she wanted to act out then she could just carry on. Because he really didn't want the last memories to be these, of pain and scathing insults. He backed off, opening his eyes again and shaking his head again at her. He watched her repair his jacket and picked it up, pulling it on just in case she decided to set it on fire again. He'd like to see her try now. "The real Nicholas Avery is dead, and has been for quite some time. It's not my fault you were too blind a girlfriend to pick up on it," he admitted, crossing his arms. He rolled his eyes, "The new you is a sadistic bitch," he deadpanned. "Not very flattering, I have to admit."
"I don't want you to say anything because, frankly, I'm not really in the mood to listen. I've heard enough. I came here hoping you'd be a grown up..you know the one you acted you were all this time. Clearly, I was dating a brat who's stuck in her land of tit for tat," he said, scoffing. He picked up the ring he'd dropped while attempting to save his jacket and held it in the palm of his hand. He pulled out the letter from his pocket, as he remembered the words written in them, the one's he'd read so often he had them memorized.
He quickly blinked himself to reality, putting the ring along with it and shoving it into her hands. "You want to burn something. Burn these." he said. He had no idea what he was doing. This was not part of the plan. But he had no energy left in him. He didn't have it in him to fight her, or his dad, or himself. He just hoped his mother wasn't actually as disappointed as he was made to believe. He leaned forward, his lips barely touching her ear. " There's nothing more I can do to you, because I've done what I could. I broke you, the real you. Hook, line, sinker," he hissed before pulling himself together and moving to exit.
He paused for a second, their entire relationship flashing before his eyes, their first hug, first kiss, first night together, everything. Right up to the bit where she slapped him and set his things on fire. "I can't believe I thought I could spend the rest of my life with you" he said, with a disgusted look on his face before turning his back on her.
[OOC...well...that was unexpected. I honestly know this wasn't supposed to happen, but Nick had a mind of his own, I swear.]
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Post by DARLA ADRIENNE SELWYN on Jan 25, 2012 23:43:56 GMT 1
His words pierced her like daggers, and as such, she barely gave response. Still, her complexion was clear and emotionless. Darla worked her hardest to spare any sign of emotion, using silence to her advantage. As he stood there, practically calling her a whore for something they both engaged in, she still said nothing. She knew his strategy now, it was the same as hers. Fighting fire with fire, and she wasn’t going to fuel it if she didn’t have to. But when he touched her chin, tilting it up, she wasted little time in grabbing his wrist-nails dug in- and removed it. It when then that she saw his eyes, and for a moment, the briefest moment yet, he was himself. But again, that rugged armor returned, doing its best to insult her again. With a small shove they were separated, the witch noticeably hurt.
The witch quirked a brow as she watched him study his own burns, showcasing little interest in the matter. She had no words for him, and she showed herself to be void of emotion, but she cared—truly she did. However, Darla knew that the moment she’d broken down, shown her concern, he’d take the opportunity to hurt her even more, guard down and whatnot. She listened as he told her how vindictive she was; that she was a bigger bitch than he ever though. All she showed was a cold stare, and occasionally nodded her head. When he finished, she quietly muttered, ”That’s because of you.” but with doubts that he’d even hear it to begin with.
As Darla grew closer to him, she could noticeably see his mask faulting. He appeared tired, and his energy to hold up the anger was wavering—almost. He took the opportunity to grab the repaired jacket, probably in fear of what she would do to it next, and for good reason. Even Darla didn’t know what she was capable of. But with a deep breath, he continued. He went on as to clue her in to how awful she was now. But the witch stared in the distance, looking towards the dungeon walls in lieu of facing her boyfriend ex. ”You’re entitled to your opinion…” she commented, neither agreeing with him or disagreeing. She knew how vindictive she was, but she also knew that everything Nick said was a lie. He truly wasn’t weak. He was destined for great things. Sure he didn’t receive all ‘O’s’ on his O.W.L.s, but it wasn’t the end of the world. He was a shoe in for Head Boy next year, and Quidditch Captain. Why did all his problem’s seem to lead him back to her?
Nick practically silenced her, admitting that he was done listening. His words as to her being a ‘brat’ noticeable hurt her, and she scowled at him, but her expression and everything changed as he shoved a letter and the ring back in her hands. She stood there stuck in her tracks as he hissed his final words at her, turning his back to her and the evil Darla that once inhibited her body went right back inside of her hiding back in its confinement.
Darla herself turned away and began to read the letter, occasional whimpers and heavy breathing echoing throughout the chamber. Darla turned around, the tears that were bottled up were back in her eyes. She couldn’t do it anymore, this act wasn’t her and she knew it. She started at the ring in her hand, the one belonging to Nick and held it tightly, pocketing it quickly before she changed her mind. She folded the letter and walked to him, standing in her original spot, right near the rest of his destroyed things. With the wave of her wand, his items were repaired, stacked neatly on top of one another. With a final sniffle escaping her body, Darla placed the letter on top, muttering ”Do what you think is best, love” and began to walk away. Unfortunately for her, the common room was past Nick—as such, she walked quickly past him, tears still in her eyes, her head down.
(OOC: I figured Darla was naturally more likely to crack as compared to Nick so…..since she knows about the letter, new plot plans? hehe)
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Post by NICHOLAS DAMIEN AVERY on Jan 28, 2012 22:34:12 GMT 1
It wasn't very often Nicholas Avery felt fear, let alone showed it. That particular emotion was foreign to him and he rarely ever dwelt on it whenever he felt a pang of it. But it consumed him head to toe now as he watched the cold, calculated look his ex girlfriend cast upon him. He swallowed shaking his head at her, refusing to believe the fact that it was him who'd brought this out of her. If that were true then she'd have been this way since the day they met. No, this was all her own doing, her own inner self having some sort of a defense mechanism because this wasn't his Darla.
He turned his back to her, as she did, and he pretended not to notice her sniffles and echoing silence as she read the words written, the ones which were branded in his brain against his will. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, ignoring the shuffling feet and items behind him, knowing that the fight had seeped out of her just as it had out of him, taking along with it his happiness and leaving a broken heart inside. As he felt her walk past, he instinctively reached out to grab her hand, gentler this time, coaxing and not forcing.
"This is for the best. Trust me," he muttered before letting her go, taking along with her a part of him which he didn't think he'd ever get back. He walked to his things, picking up the letter and tearing it up, throwing it to the floor. "I hope you're happy now, father," he mumbled tot he air, before, kneeling to the ground and letting himself rest against the wall in silence.
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and I adore the gif <3]
Nope, not dramatic at all xP He's such a mean bastard.]