Username: 
Password:    
Remember Me

Search by :  Username E-mail Region Interest AOL IM ICQ Number Yahoo! ID MSN Username Jabber

Theodore Nott (nottfinished) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

Theo caught the melancholy in the smile Cormac gave and could have kicked himself for being the cause. He supposed there wasn't anyone left in their year bracket who didn't carry the shadow of the war in some way or another.

He hadn't gone flying for a very long time, and he wasn't sure why. He wasn't even sure where his broom was, although an Accio would probably have it in his hand if he needed it at the last minute; he preferred to have escape routes that were more reliable than accessing flight though, which could have accounted for his lapse in the activity. He struggled to find time for anything that wasn't related to his paranoia, despite what his therapist said.

Drowning everything out sounded nice though.

"Maybe there's a kind of... flying club?" He suggested, although he wasn't sure if he'd heard of any. He'd seen diet clubs and some running groups advertised but no one seemed to think about flying in the same way.

What Cormac said next though hit him like a slap to the face, so sudden that he actually took a half-step back. He went a little white suddenly, unable to help himself when the topic he so thoroughly tried to avoid suddenly loped up and plonked itself right there. Some part of him was pleased to see the sadness disappear in Cormac's wry look but most of him was too busy trying to gather itself. He licked his lips nervously and shrugged, a little startled out of his usual poise. "I suppose." he managed, neither agreement nor denial.