Again the young boy fought with his frustration - James struggled with the idea that he had let his irritation, his idiocy, his jealousy get the best of him. Of course it would have been rational to discuss what happened with Lily and Eli, but the raven haired fighter had been short with himself. Images of the couple had danced ominously through his dreamscape since Alice had been lead to believe that things between himself and Lily were through. It had maddened him, drove him to the brink of illusion. He felt dramatic. He felt dehydrated.
The corridors wound aimlessly as James made his path back to the common room. It was a long haul, and he was continuously making shortcuts (sometimes adding to the length of his way) to avoid his peers and professors. It was not until he had actually reached the entrance that he realized Amelia was still behind him.
"Mel," James murmured in surprise as he stopped abruptly, his hand poised, palm out, as though he were waving to the portrait ahead. "I-" the painting swung open as the boy had given the password just seconds before Amelia had caught up. "I didn't realize you were... behind me."