melly. (mlnda) wrote in plagued_logs, @ 2016-03-27 20:41:00 |
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Entry tags: | !open, melinda bobbin, terence higgs |
Who: Melinda & OPEN
What: frustration.
Where: Potion's lab (where else, really?)
When: Sunday night.
Melinda's head rested on the backs of her hands as they laid on the cool wood of the table. Her eyes stared blankly at the stack of books not but a few feet from her. Stacks of journals and notes she'd collected over the past two months. Ones from Slughorn she'd nicked and copied, and ones from Pomfrey. Even star charts from the kid Aster. All of them had gotten her absolutely nowhere. Even her own journal had gotten mixed up in it all. Not that she'd really cared all that much. After all, she could have just walked down to the anywhere to see people, right? The sounds of the cauldrons bubbling away were the only sounds that filled the room. Annoyingly so. Usually, she found the sound comforting. Right now, staring at the journals, willing them to give her any little scrap of information she'd missed, they were obnoxious. Taunting. They offered no comfort, and just reminded her of all the things she hadn't been able to do. All of those things she should have been able to do. Suddenly, Melinda stood up straight. In a quick motion, the small tower of journals and notes were shoved off of the table in a moment of frustration. Of anger. They scattered across the floor, a few of them sliding out into the hallway passed the open door. Her hands rose, the lace-covered skin resting against the back of her head as she wandered in slow circles around the room, taking deep breaths as the frustration overwhelmed her. "Fuck!" |