InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "calvin harris "

• yikes™ adian rosenberg • (picaro) wrote in valesco,
@ 2016-10-08 02:07:00

Entry tags:

adian rosenberg, amelia-mae perkins, beaumont winogrand, charlotte towler, group, howell williams, hudson duke, jake bexley, kera ryan, louis bonaccord, mina dippet, oliver comstock, penelope fawcett, sage yates, saoirse mullet, willa montague, zayn shafiq

PARTY POST --- IT'S A BONFIRE!!

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waspsting
2016-10-10 09:18 pm UTC (link)

While happy to see her friends, Saoirse was happier to be returning home for the night than leaving it. Social outings were taxing, especially ones concocted by Louis and Adian. And with Howell having spent the night out with Michal...

She bristled on the front step, pausing before the front door. Saoirse did not think her independence was dwindling, but concerning some things she was beginning to realize, she preferred to experience them by Howell's side. It was a strange sensation to think, for she had never been able to reason like that before with so little of her life either allowed in or allowing others in. Was that why she still struggled to trust her brother, even now as nearly a two-month long peace continued to rest between them?

Saoirse frowned and shook her head. These were not thoughts she wanted to be having upon coming home. Looking down, she reached into her pocket for the key (one of the few adjustments made upon Ronan's moving in) to the door. Upon entering their home, she was greeted by--- only one pet? Her head tilted as she stared down at Pig. Taking off her cloak, Saoirse wandered through the lower level of the house until she came to the kitchen. Nestled by the back door was Jago, sitting loyally within the glow of the back porch light from outside. He thumped his tail upon her approach and stood up when she peered outside. A few moments later, Saoirse took Pig into her arms and edged the back door open with her foot.

"Here you are," she whispered, her eyes following Jago as he bounded by Howell down the stairs into the yard. Saoirse placed Pig down gently on the ground before stretching back up the few stairs to sit beside her husband. As he was staring at the sky, she too, lifted her gaze to stare with him. In quiet greeting, her hand brushed over his knee and her shoulder leaned into his.

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quietwolf
2016-10-15 03:51 pm UTC (link)

Howell did not know how much time had passed since he had returned from his outing with Michal. That was in part thanks to his state of insobriety—though he did not partake beyond one drink, Michal had egged him on as was customary, and tonight… Howell hadn't refused. Three drinks, although he had not finished the last one, was more than enough to set his head abuzz, his hands and feet tingling in a way that was not wholly unpleasant.

When he had ambled into the yard, Jago had greeted him joyfully from the backdoor and Howell tossed a stick for him a few times before they both tired of the game. He knew he probably should have gone inside—had a glass of water, eaten something, washed up, and settled down with the latest book he was forcing himself to get through—but he made it as far as the stairs before realising he had no desire to step in the house. Sitting down on the bottom step, he folded his arms and gazed up at the rapidly darkening sky, not noticing when the lanterns had lit themselves or when Jago had moved from his side to guard the back door.

This was how Saoirse found him, in a state of rather unusual stillness. He blinked upon realising she had sat beside him.

"Did you have a good time?" he rumbled after a few moments, eyes still fixed upwards as he laid his hand atop the one she'd brushed his knee with.

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waspsting
2016-10-15 11:25 pm UTC (link)

She wondered if she should tell Howell about Ollie. Saoirse's forehead furrowed for a moment at the thought, while doing so her eyes already losing interest in the stars above. Trailing her gaze down, Saoirse instead focused on his hand over hers. Slowly, she flipped her palm upwards to meet his, her fingers curling to brush along the soft spots of his inner hand.

Did she have a good time? Her brow furrowed even further at the question. While she had enjoyed her time spent with Nona, she always did, Saoirse had to admit she would have been just as content in staying home with Howell. But Louis and Adian... While not her forte, even Saoirse knew that concerning social duty, it would have been wrong for her to not attend their party tonight. She took in a breath.

"Yes. I spent most of the night with Nona," she murmured, squinting as she focused more on Howell's hand. It would never cease to prickle her interest that his hands were so much larger, and warmer, than hers. "We left early to hunt for jobberknolls."

Her lips pressed together momentarily, and Saoirse lifted her shoulder to sit straight and untethered against Howell. Her gaze finally lifted to regard the side of his face. What was he thinking about?

"How is Michal?" she asked, unbothered by how quietly they spoke.

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quietwolf
2016-10-20 03:07 am UTC (link)

Howell was not sure if it could be blamed on the alcohol, him not knowing what a jabberknoll was. But his knowledge on the mysterious subject was mercifully not put to the test as Saoirse's question diverted the conversation to his own night.

"He's... the usual," answered Howell, thinking that essentially summed up his friend. He spoke vaguely of their night, uneventful as it was, and after a question or two further about the party, steering away from the topic of mysterious fauna (or perhaps it was a plant?), they lapsed into silence as they often did. The need for conversation was not great between them, one of the few traits Saoirse and Howell shared.

They held hands on the porch steps for what felt like hours, where Howell was perfectly content to remain. It was the peace with Saoirse that kept him there now, but he could acknowledge in part that the idea of encountering Ronan had made him reluctant to retreat inside earlier. While he did not dislike many people, Saoirse's brother definitively made the list. Being Saoirse's family, the decision was hers and he supported whatever that was, but if he'd had his way, Ronan would have had his memory modified and been left to roam the streets. The uncharacteristic urge didn’t arise from the smug air of superiority, or his obvious bafflement at Howell's existence in Saoirse's life—Howell dealt with both before. No, it was his carelessness with family. Family he'd spurned until Saoirse suddenly become his only lifeline, one he had no compunctions about using. There wasn't—

Howell's teeth clenched. Some people didn't know the value of family because they'd never had cause to learn it.

But Saoirse did. It hadn't surprised him that she volunteered to let Ronan stay after Louis had given him the boot, not really. And while he had no fondness for his brother-in-law, living with him was somewhat illuminating. Though he'd never admit to it, he could see similarities in the twins beyond the bright hair and the blue eyes. The constant analysis of everything in their surroundings, their measured manner of speaking. And just like his sister, Ronan was sharp as a tack. He might have declined to get his doctorate degree, but no one could deny the man's intelligence. From what Saoirse had told him over the years, that was a trait the Mullets demanded in their children.

Howell, on the other hand, had a father who dropped out of school to go into trade, and a mother who'd gotten pregnant in secondary school and never went back. He himself had scraped by with a handful of N.E.W.T.s and become a professional Quidditch player, the least academic field in the world. He had the oddly selfish thought then that it might have been difficult for him if Saoirse was still close with her family, had they ever even gotten that far. While he dwelled on that likelihood, another thought came creeping in, and not a particularly new one at that, of if it bothered Saoirse that he wasn't… like her…

"Why are you with me?"

Howell blinked slowly, having realised the words had been said aloud, and not simply in his head.

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waspsting
2016-10-21 07:36 pm UTC (link)

As quick as the snap of disapparation, Saoirse felt her mind, like it tended to do but much less frequently now, halt at the block of not immediately understanding something. Ceasing to blink, she looked upon their intertwined hands like it a blank canvas. As she raced through all different kinds of meaning of his question, she frustratingly found she had no appropriate response that made sense without assumption on her part.

Did he mean literally, physically? Here and now, in this very moment? Or, was his intention to question... the universe, fate? And ask about things that no one could control? He had been staring at the sky for over ten minutes now... Perhaps he wanted to know... did he question what she felt? For him. Saoirse brow furrowed, as she found each potential interpretation of his simple question more complicated than the next. And, they all demanded different (and serious) responses.

Her lips pressed together as she began blinking again. Keeping her hand beneath his, but flattening it, Saoirse moved her gaze to stare at his face for some context clue. But, the side that faced her was mercilessly blank. She took a breath to steady the part of her that grew guarded upon experiencing confusion.

"I don't understand the question," Saoirse admitted, shaking her head. Her eyes stayed trained on Howell's face."What do you mean?"

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quietwolf
2016-11-06 01:32 am UTC (link)

He was far too sober to not be embarrassed that the words had actually come out of his mouth.

But the question had nevertheless been posed, and while Howell could have brushed it off, or acted as though the words had a different meaning, he found himself wondering what she might say. If she would answer the question at all. Howell had asked her a variation on this theme once before, a long time ago, and had never really gotten his explanation.

Howell had hungered for her like a drug in the beginning. Not just for the fire she ignited in him, but because being around her was intoxicating for him.

She was smart. She was a talented player, but she also worked hard. She was beautiful. And these things by themselves were wonderful traits, ones anyone would envy. He was sure some might say he was already out of his league there, but that wasn't it. There were hidden depths to Saoirse, so much more than met the eye.

And he was just… Howell.

What you saw was what you got with Howell Williams—nothing more. He had always been all right with that. But there were times being with Saoirse made him keenly aware of all that he was not, and on occasion he found himself wondering if he was enough.

If she might one day realise he had already offered her everything he could, and then search for something more meaningful to share with someone much more complex than he.

"I dunno," he hedged, lifting his hand to rub both of his own together. Looking ahead, he shrugged one shoulder and propped his elbows on his thighs. "I suppose I just wonder sometimes if it would be better if we had more in common. If I were… smarter, I guess."

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waspsting
2016-11-08 12:20 am UTC (link)

She stared at his hands, now empty of hers, in a way that made her brow furrow in a complicated manner. Saoirse was thinking she wouldn't mind discovering hobbies that she and Howell could share when he finished his trailing thought. Did he think... he was not smart? Smart enough for her? At this thought, Saoirse's brow furrowed so deeply her nose hurt, and her jaw clenched so tight it felt difficult to speak for a moment.

Why would he think that? Had she---? Her lips pulled back and her shoulders tensed as she wondered who else in Howell's life, besides herself, could make him question his worth. Without glancing back to the house, she knew of one other person living with them that possessed that ability. She took in a breath that sat hot and painful in her chest. But she knew it would be wrong to let Ronan take the entire blame for such a wild thought existing Howell's mind. Someone important had to put it there first for it to grow.

"Do you think you are not smart enough for me to like you?" Saoirse asked, tepid in her wonder. She looked away from Howell now, unsure how to process this new information. Pulling her hands together, her fingers pricked at her wedding ring on her left hand. Guilt began to trickle into her heart, knowing how it felt to be made felt not good enough by the ones you loved. Her fingers pinched the stone on her hand.

"I think you are very smart."

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