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Lost and Found (Closed); Year 5, Day 4, Dinner
Topic Started: Jul 1 2015, 10:47:43 PM (197 Views)
Dave McKelvey Jr.
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We're fragile. Wish I'd have known.

The light sound of water on stone was all that brought life to the otherwise silent prefects' bathroom. The lights were dim, and the evening sun shined through the stained-glass windows of the high-arched room, colouring the floor with sparkling shades of dark blue.

Warm water coursed over a broad back, which was planted firmly against the wall of one of the many private showers within the bathroom. A constant stream enveloped Dave's head as he stared down at the ground, allowing the shower to empty directly onto the back of his neck. Deep in thought, he exhaled, blowing a quick burst of air between pursed lips to interrupt a stream that was flowing off of the tip of his nose.

The day had one to remember, or perhaps one to forget. Julianna had, to Dave's surprise, cemented herself as someone he could rely on by giving him fair warning about what was going on. Rumours were already beginning to fly following Ariella's drunken tirade, and though Dave had been strategic in his appearances throughout the day, he knew that he would need to face the consequences of his actions eventually.

Just not today.

Instead, Dave had spent the majority of his evening in the prefects' bathroom. The career fair had gone better than expected given the fact that Sirius had not yet gone nuclear, but Dave was still unsure of whether or not it was safe to be seen in public. What would everyone else think? Rachel, Amelia, Pandora... and Ariella herself. Dave still didn't know who knew what and how they'd react. As confident as he was that he could handle himself in any situation, the prospect of having to deal with everyone all at once made Dave wish that he could just quit school forever. He was tired of dealing with the childishness.

"A man doesn't have to answer to anyone," Dave kept repeating to himself, though there would always be a portion of his brain that didn't believe it. This was the part of becoming a man that Dave hated. Was dooming himself to be a selfish, emotionless being the only way to get past everything that had happened? He shook his head because he knew it wasn't possible. He cared too much, and he loved too deeply, though no one could ever find out. Dave played that vulnerability as close to the chest as possible.

Sighing, Dave raised his head for a moment, allowing the water to wash over his face before turning off the tap. Cold air brushed against his naked form as he stepped out of the shower and pulled a white towel around his waist. He shivered as the chill acted as a reminder that he was still human.
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Ariella de Pointe du Lac
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A fire that burns that bright is not meant to last.

The entire way, Ariella forced herself to remember only one, vital lesson she had learned from her mother: don’t let them see you cry. If you have to cry, go outside. Her eyes were burning as she walked – so quickly she was just short of running – but even the corridors were abandoned. Voices fell down flights of stairs. Choruses of laughter filled the highest ceilings and still, Ariella was absolutely alone, entranced by the sound of her feet slamming against the stone floors. Don’t cry. She heard her mother’s voice, controlled and icy. Don’t ever let them see you cry. But Ariella wasn’t her mother.

I’m not her, but then what just happened to me?

It wasn’t a prophecy – it was simply the reverse, glancing into the past of another’s memories, as if her mother’s experiences existed in Ariella’s mind, if only she could carve them free from her own. In a split, sickening second, Ariella wondered if her mother might have sent her a message – a message from the dead?

No. Ioanna would know. Ariella choked on the air, stumbling forward down the corridor. Ioanna would have told me. Would Ioanna tell me?

It still didn’t help the sickness rising in Ariella’s throat. Nausea, in thick waves, continued to fill her brain with cotton. Her temples throbbed. Eyes still burning, and breath still catching in her chest, Ariella hurried to the only quiet place she knew she could find. It was instinct; she needed to hide, finally alone with the thoughts that threatened to tear her apart.

What’s happening to me? She couldn’t describe it; she only knew that something, or maybe everything, was going horribly wrong.

The prefects’ bathroom was reserved for prefects only, and was furtively hidden away from the prying eyes of others. Prefects were sworn to secrecy, and rarely shared the password with anyone. Most people cherished the thousands of different soaps and tubs too much to share with just anyone. Ariella, however, was only looking forward to a place she could cry, and maybe vomit, without having to explain herself. She was so goddamn tired of having to explain herself to anyone. Everyone. No one had compassion for the girl who was drowning; no one gave the girl a second thought.

I’m going crazy, aren’t I? It wouldn’t be the first time.

Holding back tears still, Ariella pushed open the door to the prefects’ bathroom. Relieved, Ariella heard the door slam behind her. She rested her back against it, cherishing the cold air. Her hands were shaking. Beneath her freckles, her skin was eerily pale. The skin beneath her eyes was thin and bruised – purple mottled blue, as if Ariella hadn’t slept properly in days. A galaxy of broken blood vessels colored her eyes blood red.

Then, Ariella looked up. Dave.

Ariella should have turned away. She should have struggled to find the will within her to smile. She should have excused herself, blushing modestly, like anyone else would have done. Ariella’s hands were still shaking, and all she could manage to do was stare at Dave like she had never seen him before. She almost looked afraid.

And then, she did exactly what her mother had warned against Ariella’s entire life. Her eyes filled with tears. One by one, they fell from her sapphire eyes.

“I should go,” she said, but she didn’t move.
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Dave McKelvey Jr.
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We're fragile. Wish I'd have known.

Dave hardly cared to notice a sudden commotion at the entrance to the bathroom. In fact, he hardly noticed anything anymore. It could have been any number of the other prefects, or perhaps one of the quidditch captains, and Dave couldn't find it within himself to care if he was seen walking around in nothing but a towel. It had never been weird in the past.

...except, maybe, in this case.

Dave's curiosity got the better of him as he stepped into the main part of the room, still with a towel around his waist, and found none other than Ariella. She was the one person with access to the prefect areas that he might have actually wanted to avoid, but not really. Dave felt his skin becoming warm as he realized his near-nudity, but he stood as confidently as he could while Ariella seemed to take on enough embarrassment for the two of them and began to cry.

Suddenly feeling full of guilt, Dave felt that his jaw was wired shut. He wanted to reach out to Ariella, to touch her cheek and wipe her tears away, but he thought it unwise. The two had hardly a chance to speak since the summer, instead trading awkward glances in the halls or on prefect duty. Not a day went by without the image of Ariella's body passing through Dave's mind, which only made things harder.

"Go?" Dave repeated. It was the only thing he could think to say, having debating between saying nothing at all, and bombarding Ariella with all of the questions that were on his mind all day. Why had she told everyone about what happened? Why hadn't they spoken ever since that day? And perhaps the question that burned hottest: would it ever happen again? Dave forced himself to swallow. Things with Ariella had progressed faster than expected, and though Dave was okay with that, any hope of closure seemed to have been dashed against the rocks of circumstance.

"You should know that I don't want you to go."
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Ariella de Pointe du Lac
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A fire that burns that bright is not meant to last.

At her sides, Ariella’s hands balled into fists. Her lip trembled, then stopped. Her face, wet with tears, glittered in the bathroom’s low light. Her eyelashes, auburn like her hair, were dark and wet with tears. Her irises – so often a deep, contemplative blue – now looked only so dark, they were nearly black and bottomless.

Something about Ariella seemed unsettled, whether it was the blankness behind her eyes, the tangles in her sleek hair, or the red flush that was now staining Ariella’s cheeks a burning red. The gold chain around her neck was the only thing that seemed to sparkle in the low light, so bright that she was sure that it could catch Dave’s eyes if they roamed over her jutting, narrow collarbones. But maybe they wouldn’t. It was so much effort to stare openly at the girl better left to the background.

“Yes. I should go,” she repeated, and she pushed so much anger through her teeth that she swore, in that moment, that she sounded like her mother. Her voice was a snake’s hiss and rattle with teeth exposed, sleek and dripping poison, ready to sink into flesh and blue veins. The power and strength of her own voice, no matter how different it sounded in her own ears, straightened her spine. Her eyes flashed, still wet with tears that refused to spill forward. She held them at bay, but felt a storm brewing inside of her chest.

“I’d hate to interrupt your quiet contemplation of how easy your life is,” she said sharply.

Ariella had forgotten what it was like to be alone anymore; it seemed that Julian was always one step behind her, a shadow in every corridor. Ariella shivered. Thinking about that would make her cry again. Instead, Ariella stared at Dave, finding it difficult to really meet his eye. She felt far more confident yelling at the space between his eyes, or even the glinting tiled walls behind him.

“What is with you guys, anyway? First, it’s James – oh, no, it’s fine Ari, we’ll be friends forever – that's rich. Best friends 'til the end, except that he runs off and disappears to be by her side, and then you can’t even say two words to me without Julianna around, as if you've got her on some goddamn leash. I'm not one for playing games, Dave, but I can assure you of one thing. I always, always win.”

This isn’t like me, Ariella thought suddenly, but she was too busy swimming and drowning in adrenaline to wonder about the evil that had stolen her heart and tongue.

“Go ahead,” said Ariella. “I dare you to say you have no idea what I’m talking about. I dare you to tell me that you meant to write me after... everything that happened. I dare you to tell me you've been wondering how I am now that my mother's missing. Go ahead. Lie if it makes you feel better.”
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Dave McKelvey Jr.
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We're fragile. Wish I'd have known.

Dave remained ever vigilant during Ariella's onslaught, not allowing himself to show weakness at the red-hot blade of her deep-cutting words. Instead, he welcomed the scars they would leave, and would wear them proudly.

Ariella was right, after all; Dave had been a horrible person over the last few months, and for some reason, she was the only person whose words carried any sort of weight anymore. Sirius and James would always be in the back of Dave's mind urging him to make the right decision, but there was a certain impassiveness to the way Ariella spoke, like she was the only person left who spoke only in truths. Perhaps that was what Dave liked about her more than anything: he could count on her to leave nothing unsaid.

"It's not like that." It was all Dave could muster. Things had become so complicated since the Quidditch World Cup, more so than anyone seemed to realize. People were going missing while the dead roamed Hogwarts in the flesh. All anyone could think about was their own personal problems, and in the mean time, Dave and his family were stuck in the grey area of being associated with Jordanna Bauer.

Who could really say what side they were on anymore? Who would decide what was good, and what was evil?

"There's nothing easy about what we're all going through," Dave admitted. The summer had made him realize that nothing would ever be easy as time marched forward, and all he could do was resist whatever pressure was being placed upon him. "I'm doing my best to just hold on and make it out of this ride alive, but I told you that the night we..."

"When we were together," he continued, offering Ariella a genuine smile. No one would ever be able to convince Dave of whether or not it had been a mistake, and at the end of it all, he didn't care. He knew what he'd felt, and why. Understanding that was all that mattered.

Dave stepped forward and offered Ariella his free hand while continuing to clutch his towel with the other. He spoke softly, but with commanding presence. "I don't want to talk about Julianna." There was no good that could come of bringing up the absent-minded contrarian and her ghost of a father, especially with Ariella.

"Sit with me and we'll figure this out. No matter what you want to believe, you need to know that I care about you, so if you're upset, I want to help."
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Ariella de Pointe du Lac
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A fire that burns that bright is not meant to last.

He cared about her. Somehow, hearing Dave’s words made Ariella even angrier. Acid was churning in her throat. She was ready to spit fire when she cast Dave a wary glance. Forcing the venom from her sigh, she regarded Dave carefully and didn’t dare take a step forward. Ariella crossed her arms against her chest, a solid wall between herself and Dave. She stared at his extended hand – a soft, warm peace offering – and thought about snapping his fingers in half.

“I’d be more inclined to talk if you had pants on,” she said bitterly. Ignoring the maddening smile on Dave’s face – though she should have been used to it – Ariella glared at him pointedly before she crossed the room. “And I don’t know what you really want to figure out anymore. I don’t feel bad for you, if that’s what you wanted to know.”

The ground was still slippery beneath the soft soles of her trainers, sloppy and torn compared to the pleated flutter of her school skirt. As Ariella walked, she couldn’t help but think that her mother would have screamed at the state of them. They were stained with dirt and carelessly speckled with mud from walking outside. Behind her, Ariella left a trail of shoeprints. In the back of her mind, Ariella could hear Tinsley’s sharp, piercing voice warning her against the evils of bad footwear, tear-stained cheeks and red, bare eyes.

Still resolutely ignoring Dave, Ariella approached the center of the bathroom where the floor sank into a wide tub. It was nearly the size of a swimming pool, with dozens of gold faucets jammed into the sides. Around the perimeter, fluffy towels were stacked, still warm from a house elf’s hands. Moonlight slipped in from the stained glass windows, where designs of mermaids flipping through ocean tides reflected against the white tiled floor. Ariella approached the slippery edge and sat.

Utterly silent, Ariella pulled off her shoes and let her legs dangle off the edge. Without looking, she twisted faucets at random. From them spilled a concoction of frothy baby pinks, cotton blues and awful lime greens. Bubbles instantly drifted towards the ceiling lazily. The air filled with the scent of perfume – like vanilla, and candy, and mint all at once. Ariella wrinkled her nose and was, at the very least, thankful that she couldn’t hear Dave over the sound of the rushing water and soap.

Ariella waited until the water splashed over the sides of the sunken tub before switching them off. She took a deep breath. Soap reminded her of living with her mother when she was young. Tinsley always managed to get soap in Ariella’s eyes and never seemed particularly bothered about getting it out. Ariella almost smiled as she reached forward, cupping bubbles with her hands.

“It’s a strange feeling, you know,” said Ariella finally. She didn’t look at Dave. She only looked at the explosion of soapy color in her hands before she exhaled and blew them forward. They fluttered back into the tub like falling snowflakes. “I used to hate being alone. And now, maybe it’s a selfish thing to want, but… I don’t remember what it’s like to be alone anymore, without feeling like someone is watching me. Without knowing that everyone is waiting for me to either die or blow the castle up.”

Ariella’s hands began to shake. She grabbed a handful of soap to hide it.

“That’s the sort of stuff you missed,” said Ariella quietly. “This isn’t about me, getting my feelings hurt over a little... crush.” Anger – like a flame too stubborn to be extinguished – flourished inside of Ariella’s chest again.

“Billie’s missing, my sister is losing her mind, and I feel like suddenly, I’m the ghost,” Ariella said. Anxiously, she played with the necklace Julian had given her. It was a constant source of comfort, even if the thin gold at her fingertips made her head throb a little.

“I can’t worry my dad with this. He’s already sick over Ioanna and my mom. I can’t even tell them about Julian; God, my mom would kill me.”

Finally, Ariella faced Dave, as if daring him to take another piece of her. The desperation in her voice was mirrored in her face – pale, thinner than it had been during the summer. Sleepless nights had etched dark shadows beneath her eyes and Ariella’s freckles stood out sharply, like splotches of purple. Revealing what had been heavy on her mind for so long was exhausting. Ariella closed her eyes, almost wishing that Dave wasn’t there, expectantly waiting, so that she could sink into the tub and probably never leave.

“And now let me guess,” sighed Ariella. “You’re going to guilt trip me with a wild story about how you’ve been too busy saving the world to be a good friend. I’ll have to forgive you, and you’ll kindly reinstate me as Secretary of the Dave Fanclub.” Rachel, of course, was President; Julianna was Vice President. Duh.
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Dave McKelvey Jr.
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We're fragile. Wish I'd have known.

Despite Ariella's obvious resistance to Dave's charm, a whimsical expressed fixed itself to his face as she circled around him and approached the pool. Any response was better than none, and getting Ariella to play the game was the first step to salvation. Turning on his heel with a coy smile, one corner of his lips pulled upward as he caught the familiar scent of her perfume.

"I'm perfectly comfortable like this, if you were wondering," he murmured as Ariella busied herself in the center of the room. The sound of his voice was quickly concealed in the chaos of noise caused by the running faucets. Dave took a few steps forward but stopped, staring at Ariella's back as she pulled her fingers across the bubblebath. There was an endearing simplicity in taking a brief moment to enjoy something so mundane in a world that was everything but. Dave smiled, and he wondered if Ariella might be as well.

But the happiness was fleeting, and Ariella spoke again. Dave did his best to catch every word, and he took yet another few steps forward to pick up on Ariella's voice as it traveled across the room and echoed toward him. He wondered why she avoided his gaze with such vigilance.

Still clutching at his waist, Dave found himself puffing up his chest and standing as tall as he could when Ariella finally turned around. Goosebumps prickled up on the back of his neck as he struggled against feeling self-conscious, but Ariella's final quip helped to ease the tension. Dave smiled and completed his approach, taking a seat beside Ariella at the edge of the pool. He fixed his towel into an uncompromising position and leaned back before speaking.

"Has anyone ever told you that you take yourself way too seriously?" he asked, rhetorically of course, playfully flicking a small mass of bubbles in Ariella's direction with his finger. Despite everything that had happened and everything that could or might come, Dave still found it within himself to make light of everything. It was, perhaps, one of his strongest characteristics, or his biggest downfall.

After allowing a few moments for Ariella to react, Dave smiled, but took on a more thoughtful expression. "You know, if I thought you were the type who'd let me guilt trip you into joining my entourage, I wouldn't even be interested. Don't you get that's what I like about you?" The way Dave spoke was serious, yet carefree at the same time, as he had nothing to hide from Ariella. He leaned back before speaking again. "To be honest, I don't have an excuse for not being around, and even if I did, I wouldn't expect you to accept it. Actually, I wouldn't want you to."

Dave exhaled and looked around the room as he wondered how to move forward. He didn't need to beg for forgiveness, and he knew Ariella to find such a thing unbecoming anyway. Instead, all he could do was offer his honesty. "On that note, though, I hope you realize that it takes two to play this game," he declared, "and not the game of winning and losing that you were talking about before."

There was far more to it than that.

"If you wanted me to be around you could have just said something. You know, like telling me what you want." And at that, Dave paused, suddenly beaming. "If you really think about it, you telling me what you want is the reason we got here in the first place."
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Ariella de Pointe du Lac
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A fire that burns that bright is not meant to last.

Ariella could remember the first time she heard Dave speak. Back then, she remembered the low, rumbling voice like a storm’s afternoon thunder. It squeaked every so often, but Dave’s face had twisted into a smug smirk, as if he dared her to say a damned thing about it.

There was a confidence in the arch of his eyebrows that, to Ariella, was nothing but absolutely maddening. Just a little girl with auburn curls and stockings her mother had bought her, Ariella had fantasized about sinking her balled fist into the side of Dave’s stern jaw. Years had passed between them and, still, Ariella couldn’t deny that she still had the same reaction facing the young man who knew just how to twist his smile into a smirk.

She wanted to kill him and kiss him, not exactly in that order. It’s what he likes about me, Ariella thought as he spoke.

Her expression still only one of thoughtfulness, Ariella remembered the Dave that was locked within her memory. She remembered him as an awkwardly tall, broad-shouldered child. Dave was the same boy who would, occasionally, share his notes with her in class... despite her habit of insulting him every time he so much as looked her way.

“Potions isn’t my strong suit,” she had said, awkwardly glancing over his shoulder, towards his notebook. With another frustrating grin, Dave had casually pushed his scrolls of parchment towards her. Over the table, their eyes had met. Ariella rolled her eyes, and Dave had laughed.

“Take it,” he had said. “Before Remus sees.”


Ariella shivered, remembering how easily Dave’s smile could fade, as if he no longer recognized the girl that Ariella had, one day, become. The years blurred as they passed so quickly that, most days, Ariella couldn’t remember who she was, either.

Dave had faded into the background of things as effortlessly as his smile had faded those winter afternoons. When he had arrived in the Hospital Wing, all good intentions and curious sighs, Ariella had wondered if she would ever be able to shake herself free of someone who saw her for who she really was – maybe wounded, maybe completely normal underneath it all. Ariella remembered the way she had been then, with her hair sheared off in blunt, quick chops. He had visited anyway.

It means nothing, Ariella had told herself, only because she needed to reassure herself that reality was still solid around her. How easy it would be to find oneself lost in poetry.

But he was still here and, damn it, his smile was still the same upturned, smug grin that stole the breath from Ariella’s lungs. The glint in his eyes was wild. Even clean, he smelled like the woods at twilight. Ariella bit down on her bottom lip to keep herself from smiling; she was determined to deny Dave that definite satisfaction. Instead of allowing herself to so much as almost grin, Ariella stared at the wall.

He likes me, Ariella thought wildly. He wants me to like him, too.

The stained glass reflected all sorts of colors. Ariella wondered how old the glass was. Had her mother seen it once? She pushed the thought away.

Had Julian seen it once, when he was alive? Or had he traveled through the pipes, nothing but the infinite memory of another life, to sneak here? The possibilities were endless, and they were enough to make Ariella’s head throb.

She exhaled heavily and stared down at the frothy bubbles that slipped between her ankles. She turned her legs through the water, kicking clockwise. Small splashes leaped forward and rained back down, and Ariella watched each drop glitter before falling. It was easier than saying a word. It was easier than looking at Dave and remembering what they had been once, and what they were destined to be.

“What I want isn’t necessarily what is going to happen,” said Ariella, and she wasn’t surprised that there was a quiet desperation in her voice. “Just because I want something doesn’t mean that I can have it.”

Finally, Ariella allowed herself to look at Dave. She wondered why he didn’t touch her. Why he didn’t ask why she was crying. Why he was still sitting here as if he could help her – as if anyone would ever be able to save her from eventually drowning.

Ariella stood up. Suddenly, she was angry. She wasn’t just angry, but she was absolutely furious – not at Dave, but at everything. Everyone. Before her eyes flashed familiar images. Julian Kahn was entering the Great Hall, horribly solid and sneering. He was tucking a piece of auburn hair behind her ear and smiling. Mine, he was whispering, as if she was a sparkling trophy set upon a mantle. His black eyes reflected no light; they were empty and bottomless, swallowing everything left in their path. Ariella squeezed her eyes shut.

She could see her mother’s missing photographs plastered within the margins of the Daily Prophet. She could see Ioanna, skinny and sad. She could see her father, mad-eyed and heaving great, panicked breaths. Ariella took small inhales, and she felt her breath constrict around her ribs, each breath smaller and tighter than the last until the ground beneath her feet threatened to rise and meet her –

Panic, without a doubt, takes no prisoners

It only fires like bullets

and forgets to apologize.

But Ariella didn’t have the energy to panic. Not anymore. Instead, she stared at Dave and took a deep, final inhale.

“And sure, maybe I take myself too seriously,” said Ariella. “Newflash! Maybe this is just who I am – a girl who is angry, sad, evil, and crazy. I can’t tell you what I want because I don’t know how, and because if this really is a game, there’s no way I’ll ever show you my pokerface.”

Ariella rolled her eyes, still thoughtful. She stared down at the bathtub beneath her and sighed. “There’s nothing fun about this,” she said. “And maybe I’m doing this for your own good. I would tell you I hated you if I could just to keep you from burning in this fire with me.”

Without another word, Ariella took a step forward and leaped into the tub. Water exploded as she cracked its surface, and it mercilessly splashed Dave’s face. Ariella sank to the bottom of the pool and sat, still fully clothed. Her clothes clung heavily to her skin, weighing her down, but Ariella couldn’t be bothered. At the bottom, Ariella could only hear the sound of water weighing on her eardrums – comforting and quiet, like she was alone. She waited a few moments, reveling in the warmth and silence, before Ariella broke the surface and gasped for air.

She blinked water out of her face and brushed wet strands of her hair away from her eyes. A mess of bubbles was sitting atop her head. From the water, Ariella looked up and – finally – smiled at Dave.

“All for your own good,” said Ariella. “I know you well enough to know that you’ll die at the chance to get yourself into trouble. Maybe that’s why you like me,” added Ariella thoughtfully. “The trouble is what keeps you interested.”
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Dave McKelvey Jr.
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Dave could see it as plain as day. Each second that Ariella spent trying to rationalize only served to dig herself deeper into a hole from which she could not escape. Despite her strongest efforts to stay afloat, each word that passed through her lips revealed more and more of her vulnerability. Every wall that she put up was temporary, fleeting even, becoming shattered in an instant whenever she backpedaled or was unsure of herself. Dave wondered if she did it on purpose, or if her desires were just too strong to be contained. He smiled. Perhaps it wasn't subconscious at all. Perhaps what she wanted was for Dave to bear witness to the metamorphosis, where all fear would be finally shed, leaving behind a smooth, vulnerable husk of a person with nothing more to give than her heart. Dave could get on board with that.

A familiar yearning gripped the inside of Dave's chest. He wanted to reach out to Ariella, to place a firm finger at the base of her chin before bringing her lips toward his own. He remembered feeling this way with Pandora, and Sirius even, and yet now, the feeling seemed different. There was just something about Ariella's uncertain, yet unwavering resolve, that made her that much more desirable. An empty pit formed in Dave's stomach when Ariella stood, and his mind cried out silently, fearful that she might turn away from him and shatter the hope he still held for her.

And then she jumped. In true Ariella fashion that only Dave knew, she leaped forward without hesitation, splashing into the pool with her clothes on. Dave's heartrate doubled in an instant. "There she is," he thought, instantly recognizing the free spirit he'd become completely enamored with at the World Cup. All of the worries in the world were again put on hold as the real Dave and Ariella somehow managed to find each other once again.

He tried his best not to smile too brightly when she finally broke the surface and spoke, smiling as a crown of bubbles sat atop her head. Adrenaline began to pump through Dave's system as he considered what might come next, and his towel suddenly felt tight around his waist. He stood up without a word, and in one quick motion, he was soaring through the air, having left the garment behind. His massive form sent ripples in every direction as he crashed into the water in front of Ariella, sending a flurry of soap and bubbles splashing over the edges of the tub.

Excitement and lustful adoration were now the only things on Dave's mind. He surfaced, still with his eyes closed, and allowed the water to calm before placing his bare feet on the bottom of the large tub. Smirking, he inched forward, feeling Ariella's breath pressed against the water between the two of them. He opened his eyes, locking on to her. With renewed confidence, he continued forward. He slipped his fingers down the outside edges of Ariella's thighs and raised her knees to his hips while supporting her back, taking her into his arms to place her at eye level. He smirked, realizing that he was naked, and she was not.

"The thing that keeps me interested is this, right here," Dave explained in a quiet tone, as if his voice echoing against the stone might prompt someone to enter the chamber and cut the encounter short. He continued to hold Ariella close while moving about the tub until his back was flat against the outside edge. "Whoever you are right now, at this very second, is what I'm interested in, not the mask that you wear out there in front of everyone else." There was no other way to phrase it. Of all things Ariella was good at, she was most adept at hiding her true self.

"If you can give me that, I can give you the same," he finally said. He allowed his mouth to close after the final word, and he took on a solemn expression as he stared into Ariella's eyes, daring her to be the one to kiss him this time.
Dave McKelvey Jr. - Dave McKelvey - Charlotte McKelvey - Morgan McKelvey
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Ariella de Pointe du Lac
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A fire that burns that bright is not meant to last.

Ariella could finally breathe. She allowed her arms to wrap around Dave’s broad shoulders. Through the water, he guided her movements, and she couldn’t help but feel startled knowing that she was comfortable like that.

In the shelter of Dave’s arms, she didn’t feel her heart race in panicked quicksteps – everything was still, peaceful and worth something. Bubbles still lapped over the tub’s wide edges and sloshed against the slippery tile floor, but their sound was distant. All Ariella could focus on was the low rumble of Dave's voice.

She felt… free. His face leaned closer to hers, almost expectant. Ariella could see something flash in his eyes; it felt familiar. Comfortable. And still, it was untouchable; Ariella sighed, tilted her head away from his, and placed her cheek against his shoulder.

She wished she could feel his heartbeat through his chest. It was a reminder that he was real. Ariella buried her face into Dave’s neck, and when she spoke, her breath tickled his skin. “I don’t know who you think you are,” she said quietly. “Or why you think you know me like the back of your own hand. It’s insulting, you know.” But she smiled, and Dave could feel it against his skin even with her head resolutely turned away from his.

“I’m not kidding about protecting you,” she said, finally facing him again. Her face was inches from his.

They walked together in the darkness. The candles, flickering against the walls, were long extinguished. Every shadow opened its wild jaws to greet Ariella, and she felt her skin shiver nervously as she took a step forward. At her side, the echo of someone else’s footsteps swallowed the emptiness. Quietly, Ariella glanced at him and was startled to find that his black eyes were already locked on her. Ariella watched as his smile stretched his pale face, and Ariella felt a lump in her throat grow.

“What’s on your mind?” asked Julian Kahn.

Together, he and Ariella had escaped from a sure, painful death at hands of humiliation. Behind them was a party of voices and flowing firewhiskey and, before them, only darkness. Ariella felt a drunken stumble in her step as he hurried forward, and Julian watched her intently, struggling to try to see through her careful façade. Even so, Ariella allowed silence to answer Julian’s question. He only heard his own breath, and the sound of his heart thumping beneath his ribs.

“I imagine you must feel… raw,” he said pointedly, and Ariella stopped walking. He stopped, turned, and smiled at her. Ariella felt her teeth dig into her bottom lip almost absently, as if she couldn’t really feel it. She was just a ghost of herself again, and Julian was beaming at the life he saw extinguished behind her deep blue eyes.

“I don’t care about people knowing,” said Ariella smartly. Her voice was a hiss. “I made a decision, and I need to stick by it. Sirius will live.”

“She’ll live because she doesn’t have a choice,” Julian said quietly. “I wonder if you know what it’s like.”

“What?” Ariella said, her voice defiant and sharp. She stepped forward, closing the space between her and Julian. Somehow, standing there with her body inches from his did not seem strange. He still felt like nothing but an illusion – as if she could reach out, to touch him, and she would find nothing but the chilling air left in his place. She would find nothing but wisps of smoke where he once stood.

Julian reached out. His fingers felt like fire against her skin. He tucked a lock of auburn hair behind her ear and he stepped closer. As Ariella’s eyes adjusted to the omnipresent darkness, she could see the square set of Julian’s jaw. He was frowning. His eyes were wide, intense like two black holes – he was sad, Ariella realized. Her heart wrenched as if Julian had ripped a hole through her chest.

“I guess you won’t know it,” he said. “Until you see it. You know – someone you love, loving someone else.”

Ariella pulled away, and Julian sighed. They began walking again, with Julian occasionally sneaking glances Ariella’s way. Their footsteps echoed still as the world beyond them slept peacefully. It was only them – only Julian and Ariella that still found themselves hollow and sleepless. Ariella still bit down on her bottom lip to keep herself from speaking and, on her tongue, she tasted blood.

“Thanks for keeping your necklace on,” Julian said as they neared their common room. He looked towards the gold chain still hanging from her neck.

“It’s important to me that you wear it.”


“I don’t want you to get hurt,” Ariella told Dave, and she cursed as she realized her hands were shaking. Panic sent shivers down her spine. Something – everything – told her to run and seek the darkness again for there, she was safe. She didn’t need to reveal her true self beneath sardonic smiles and careful insults. She didn’t need to seek shelter in the shadows. Vulnerable and exposed, Ariella felt more alive again than she had in weeks.

That, alone, was frightening. What was more frightening was knowing what Julian could do to Dave when no one else was looking. She knew it with certainty. There was something different about Julian now, and it was nagging at Ariella’s every thought. He couldn’t be trusted and, still, Ariella couldn’t help but find herself thinking of him.

It was maddening. Instinctively, and without thinking, Ariella lifted one hand away from Dave’s shoulders and touched the gold around her neck.

Panic shot like lightning through her veins.

“My necklace,” said Ariella suddenly, and she pushed away from Dave. She stood up in the tub, still clutching her neck. “Damn it. My necklace must have fallen off when I jumped.”

But Ariella couldn’t help but notice how much lighter she felt without it – like something reborn, and someone that could finally breathe. Color flushed her bone white cheeks.
Lay down your head, close your eyes
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