Open A Crack In The Facade

[Aine Thompson]

Aine was shaken. That had gone far different than she had expected, but had it also not somehow been exactly what she should have expected? She was confused. And concerned. Had anyone actually heard what the boggart had said? It hadn't sounded like it was speaking, but the voice had been clear in her mind. Though she was almost certain that it had been only in her mind. Could she guarantee it? After casting the spell, everything else had been a blur, a haze of panic and anger. With herself, for being careless. With the professor, for making them do this. And with herself some more. She was scared, true, of people knowing that side of herself, the side she'd already slipped up and shown more than enough of, but she was angry.

She found an empty classroom, slamming the door behind her and pacing around angrily. She didn't think to lock the door, too caught up in her frustration to bother to even remember. "I don't need a boggart to face you, do I? You're here. And you won't leave me alone." Aine kicked over a chair, which only served to make her foot ache and made a loud thud. She swore, trying not to make that echo too loudly, for fear a prefect or professor would swoop on her and sternly reprimand her. She was trying very hard to maintain a good image, after all. Good grades, engaging in activities, making friends - or attempting to. And yet, she was always there, determined to ruin it at the slightest provocation. She ran a hand down her face, shuddering.

Do you even realize how much you look like an idiot right now? Throwing a tantrum at nothing? Now that's just going to make everyone hate you even more.

Aine groaned, making a noise of discomfort, as she moved over and found a spot under the table. Unable to help herself, she found that she was starting to cry, and if possible, she hated herself even more for being so pathetic. She shuddered, wiping her nose as her face reddened. It wasn't even the words that upset her. It was the idea that anyone else might know.

 

[Cameron Roswell]

Today's Darks Art class had left Cameron with a bad taste in his mouth and he'd hurried to slink out of the classroom as quickly as possible once it was over. It'd been hard to find any of the spell results funny, or even finding out what his classmates fears were when all he could think about with his own failure and cowardice at being unable to face it looming over his head, waiting for someone to call him out on it.

He was glad for the distraction then, hearing the clatter and swearing from behind one of the closed doors in the corridor. He'd been intending to slink off to his dorm but he could feel the way his stomach swooped at the sound of Aine's muffled voice behind the door, unable to resist pushing it open to see what she was going on about. Was she fighting with someone, cause that he had to see.

It was almost disappointing then we the door opened and the room seemed empty, Cameron taking a moment to even spot Aine where she'd curled up under one of the tables. The jibe he readied at the sight of her quickly died on his tongue when he realized she was crying and were he not already so far in the room Cameron heavily considered just bolting and leaving Aine to deal with whatever this all was alone.

"C'mon... It wasn't that scary," he eventually managed, voice stilted as he stood awkwardly a few metres from where Aine was hiding. "I mean, your boggart was probably more scary for me than you, two Aine's? Yuck." He was aiming for teasing, trying to grasp at the usual combative interactions he had with Aine, but even Cameron could tell it was coming out flat. Why did Aine have to make him act so weird all the time.

 

[Aine Thompson]

Aine tried to force herself not to cry. This was just embarrassing. She didn't cry. And her own words couldn't get to her, right? She was the one who said them. If she kept saying them, they wouldn't bother her too much. She could numb herself to them and just get used to it. Easy. Though it seemed as though the voice couldn't decide whether to knock her down or lift her up. One minute it told her she was the worst, and stupid, and ugly, and the next minute it told her she was so much smarter than everyone around her, and everyone else was terrible. It was confusing, and awful, and she hated both sides. And if she wasn't careful, she'd just let everything out and then everyone would know what a horrible person she was. She didn't want to show weakness. Not when she had to fight so hard to fit in here.

She immediately regretted not locking the door - not that it wasn't easy to get the door open if anyone really wanted to, and lifted her blotchy, red face to look at the intruder, freezing a little. Aine suddenly felt very aware of how miserable she looked, and how it seemed totally unfair that Cameron, of all people, was the one who kept seeing her at her lowest. Or maybe it was what she deserved. Even when trying to be nicer, she still couldn't help but be vitriolic to Cameron, and maybe this was just karma for it. In exchange for her being so rude to him, he was the person who had greatest access to her vulnerability, and the worst part of it was she couldn't even bring herself to be mad at him for it. It was her own fault.

"I..." she started, awkwardly wiping her eyes with her other sleeve. Not the one she'd used to wipe her nose. She wasn't that disgusting. Only kind of gross. "I guess you couldn't hear what it said." Weirdly, his comment should have made her annoyed. Instead, she choked out a strangled noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, and she didn't really know which it was meant to be. She tried to hide her face, though it was too late, the damage was done. Just like with the slugs. "Ugh, dammit, why is it always you who sees me at my worst."

 

[Cameron Roswell]

[pretend this isn't over a month old ]

Cameron shifted his gaze to stare resolutely around the classroom. Anywhere but at Aine’s wet eyes and face, the sight stirring something in Cameron’s chest that made him clench his fists uselessly at his side. “It’s not like I was listening closely or whatever, not everything is about you,” Cameron said snottily when Aine said something about whatever her boggart had said.

It had been weird though, the odd look in the boggart’s eyes as it’d taken on Aine’s appearance, a sharp expression that seemed familiar yet alien on her in a way that was unsettling to Cameron even from a distance. Not that he paid much attention to Aine’s face anyway. Boggarts probably just weren’t that good at being humans or something. Or maybe it was just more proof that Aine was enough of a freak to make a boggart go all weird just trying to mimic her.

He flinched when Aine laughed, or maybe she was crying, he really didn’t want to look and check, feeling his face flush as the way Aine said ‘you’. “It’s not my fault you’re always screwing things up,” he bit back sharply, tucking his shoulders around his ears even as he felt a tang of guilt at the harshness of the words. It wasn’t fair, he had every right to be mean to Aine, she was just as awful to him back, but it felt too much like kicking her when she was down when he was standing over her while she actually cried under a desk. “Can you like.. come out of something. It’s weird arguing with you when you’re under there,” he muttered, shifting awkwardly again to look around the room. Maybe he should just leave Aine to her misery, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to just walk out yet.

 

[Aine Thompson]

((what is time and what is muse really))

Aine buried her face in her hands, ignoring how gross they probably were. Hiding her face felt somehow more important, considering how red it was from the combined forces of embarrassment and tears. The worst part of it all was that he had a point. She was being extraordinarily selfish - even her boggart was a reflection of herself. She didn't want to admit he had a point, and that maybe making fun of it did help and she felt strangely...not angry. Which was very weird and she didn't like it. Being angry was easier. Exhausting, but easier.

Aine shuffled forward, trying to pull herself upright. She was about to retort about screwing things up, only she misjudged the size of the desk, smacking the back of her head on the underside as she crawled to her feet. She winced, clamping her lips together to hold back curse words before ultimately setting on a miserable sounding groan. She gripped the back of her head, rubbing it as she wiped at her eyes. "...better? Please don't tell me you're gonna get a photo or something. I would literally die. And then I'd turn into a ghost and haunt you. For the rest of your life...or at least the rest of your time at Hogwarts." She was rambling, but she hoped it distracted him from her being terrible.

 

[Cameron Roswell]

[claws way back to month old thread I am determined to finish sorry not sorry]

Cameron barely stifled a snort as Aine hit her head, glad that there was at least some part of her misery he could still take pleasure in even if the rest of the situation him feeling vaguely quesy.

He glanced her face for a moment as Aine righted herself before resuming frowning at the rest of the room, pointedly trying not to watch as she scrubbed at her damp face. "Why would I want a picture of your dumb, puffy face," he said sourly, shoving his hands in his pockets and trying to ignore the flip of his stomach at the idea that Aine knew he'd been taking photos of her at school events. It wasn't like it was a big deal, it was his job and stuff. "I only take photos of important school events, I bet you mess up and cry in here all the time," he said, though the words didn't have as much bite as Cameron would have liked.
Why did girls crying have to make him feel so terrible, even if the girl was Aine. Surely those should have cancelled each other out. "Not like I care or anything but you're okay and stuff right?" He asked hotly, barely avoiding cutting himself off as he got the question out, glancing at Aine one more time for good measure before deciding he'd rather glare at a dust bunny he'd spotted under another one of the desks.

 

[Aine Thompson]

((ahaha its fine))

Aine knew she wasn't exactly beautiful, and yet something about Cameron's comment about her face made her stomach feel vaguely uncomfortable. Why should I care, she reminded herself. It probably does look awful. Self consciously, she brushed her hair forward, hiding her face completely ineffectively. "I never cry," she insisted, despite the very obvious evidence to the contrary. "This is just a one off thing." She tried to sound haughty, but the wind had been knocked out of her entirely, and she felt exceedingly vulnerable and embarrassed. She'd have to work harder to not let anyone slip through her defenses, least of all Cameron.

The tears had long stopped, her face was just watery and red and a little swollen. Taking a few deep breaths, she righted herself, but was surprised by the comment. Unable to stop, a tiny smile threatened to appear on her face. Thankfully, Cameron was looking away, so too did she. That would just make it worse. "Yeah, I'm...fine. Uh...thanks. I guess. For, you know, asking." This was even more mortifying. She weighed up what was worse, being around Cameron or taking the escape back up to the dorms and being spotted before she was completely composed. "Just don't tell anyone and I'll make it up to you somehow." Leaving was looking like the smarter option.

 

[Cameron Roswell]

Cameron kept his hands clenched tightly in his pockets, shifting uncomfortably as Aine insisted she never cried, managing to bark out an incredulous laugh even if it felt a bit hollow. It was easier to want to make fun of Aine all the time rather than feel bad for her and Cameron quietly hoped she was actually telling the truth even if it made her all the more insufferable.

He only barely caught the smile that had slowly made it's way onto Aine's face, small and fragile, but it made Cameron's stomach flip again and chewed on his lip, hurriedly looking away again as he felt his ears heat up as Aine tried to thank him or something equally stupid. "Well yeah I said I didn't care I just don't want to get in trouble if you went and cried to your best friend the Charms teacher about it or whatever," he said gruffly, hunching his shoulders. "Like I'd tell anyone I was hanging out with you," he scoffed, though without any real heat. "Since you're not dying though I can leave so you can cry by yourself or whatever," he said, shuffling over to the door and narrowly avoiding banging his shin on a chair in an effort to appear casual an unaffected while also avoiding making any more eye contact with Aine in case she cried or (worse) smiled at him again.