Re: The Schoolboy/The Witch
She looked a bit as if she was going to a funeral, all dressed in black like she was, but in an odd way it seemed to suit her, the red hair a little wild, and the very formal sort of feeling of the black, and he looked away as she sat down beside him, feeling his cheeks flush slightly from the nearness of a girl - woman maybe - so close to his own age and not remotely related to him. But he put his finger in the book, and then closed it completely so that it sat on his lap, the title in worn cold letters across the front: 'Legal Manuscripts in England and France'.
Somehow the words hadn't been what he had expected, but he caught the name - Morgaine - and the fact that her mother did not seem to think well of his education. He rather suspected equally his father would not care for Morgaine or her mother, but he did not say this, and in addition he was rather not his father.
"We get to come down for weekends," he looked over at her, and pushed back a limp strand of hair that had fallen out of the pomade he had tried to impress it with earlier in the day. That moment seemed a long time ago, and he was rather aware suddenly that he likely looked a little disheveled with the traveling. "But there isn't much time for socializing typically. Nor is it particularly encouraged."
He glanced over now, eyeing her profile, while keeping his hands tightly on the book. It seemed reasonably clear that she wasn't from the girls school - she didn't have the appearance of it. "Do you go to the grammar school then?"