Jan 19, 2020 8:06 AM
sarah and lesath in harry potter
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"Maybe I'm a princess. Or- a King. Then I could boss you around."

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"Girls can't be kings," Lesath informs her. "Anyway, do you want to know or not?"

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"I can be whatever I want. But, tell me."

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"You can only know if you switch seats with me!"

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She sighs dramatically. "Okay. You better be the next King of England or something."

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There! Finally. Lesath settles into the closet, taking his box and book as well. With a satisfied smile, he says, "I'm Lesath Lestrange, legitimized scion of the Great and Most Noble House of-."

Ouch. His headache hasn't abated. He winces.

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"Noble House of Ouch? That's a new one. Not one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."

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"Shut up." Talking makes his headache worse. Being talked to and talking both. "Stupid girl. Why can't you just go away?" Lesath squints- sometimes that helps.

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"Okay." She stands and goes back to the closet to pick up her satchel. "Guess it's time to leave anyway, before anyone else sees me."

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"No!" Argh! He didn't want her to leave leave! "Could you just sit over there and- be comforting?"

Lesath presses his head against the closet door and wrinkles his nose. The noise from downstairs is deafening. At least, that's how it feels to him anyway.

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"I- don't know how to be comforting." 

But she sits anyway, hugging the satchel to her chest.

-- the sound from downstairs disappears, somehow muted.

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"T-thanks."

They sit a while there, and given sufficient time and pressure (Lesath isn't sure if pressing his head against the wall actually helps, but it certainly seems to), Lesath's headache abates.

He's not sure whether the strange girl wants to talk anymore?

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Maybe. She's taken a battered looking notepad out of her satchel and is now sketching in it.

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“...Hey.” He’s not sure about the volume of his voice— too loud? Not loud enough? ”Sorry for being kind of— unpleasant earlier.”

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"I was in your space. I get it."

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“Okay.” Lesath bites his lip. “How do you feel about me? Right now? I know you were mad at me before...”

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"Was never mad. Not at you." She pauses. "I don't know what I feel about you now. Sad, maybe. Curious. Wondering what you have in your box."

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Lesath strokes his box protectively. "It's something important. Just to me. Maybe not to other people. Maybe. It's a necklace. And then some of my leaves and some flowers and stuff."

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"Can I see?"

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"...No. You have to earn it."

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