WHO: Orla and Demitrius WHAT: Meeting for the first time WHERE: Outside the Dark Arts classroom WHEN: Before class starts WHY: Because Demitrius told her to be there and she's too scared to disobey RATING: TBD? STATUS: Incomplete
Orla felt like she was going to be sick. She knew it was the fear talking, but there wasn't anything she could do about it. She wanted nothing more than to hide in the dungeon and go back to being invisible. She had been perfectly happy flying under the radar. Her survival method had worked fine. Do what she was told, keep her head down and don't get noticed. It had worked really brilliantly. Until now.
Now she was dragging her feet all the way to the Dark Arts classroom, feeling her heart thumping in her throat. Everything was telling her to run. Run fast. But her feet kept her going forward. Muttering the Rosary in Gaelic under her breath, she kept track on her fingers, lacking her beads. She was early, she knew, but she didn't dare be late.
She leaned against the wall, less out exhaustion and more to keep her knees from shaking. She continued murmuring her prayers under her breath, focusing her mind entirely on asking for God's protection for whatever was about to happen.