Closed Midnight Harmony

Delilah Thorne

ollivander's asst. | middlest | '58 grad
 
Messages
866
OOC First Name
Kadi
Blood Status
Mixed Blood
Relationship Status
Single
Wand
Knotted 13 Inch Unyielding Hazel Wand with Essence of Belladonna Core
Age
01/2040 (21)
Delilah was feeling restless. It wasn't exactly a new feeling for her but it was something that had become much more frequent for her after her father's death. Sometimes it felt like if she sat still for too long she would go crazy. It was like there was a buzzing in her head that was only quiet if she was busy, moving, or asleep. But tonight sleep wasn't coming easily so she decided to grab her violin and do something. She had practiced in the abandoned classroom plenty of times and it seemed like the perfect place to sneak off to. There was a chance she could get in trouble and it wasn't like she could claim she was on patrol while playing music, but it was a risk she was willing to take if it made her feel better even for a little while. Unlatching her case felt impossibly loud and she waited for a moment to hear if anyone was coming. The coast seemed clear so she pulled out her instrument and checked the tuning for a moment before playing a few long notes. There weren't many pieces she had memorized but she had a few, and started to play.
 
Sawyer was no stranger to long nights. He'd never been able to sleep very well at school, despite having shared a room with Theia for years, and often found himself up lurking around the common room at odd hours so he could at least pretend to be productive if he wasn't going to sleep.

He'd nearly missed seeing Delilah slip out, the violin case a dead giveaway that she wasn't doing prefect-y things. He'd been keeping his distance from her since her rather abrupt rejection of him last semester but it'd been hard to miss the new about what had happened to her dad. Sawyer knew how that felt, and while he figured giving her space was the right call in multiple ways, he couldn't resist slipping out after her, just to make sure she was alright.

He lurked outside the abandoned classroom for a moment, second and even third guessing himself on whether he should just cut his losses and go back to the common room while he listened to Delilah play. Finally, after another firm mental argument with himself, Sawyer forced himself inside as Delilah finished the song she'd been playing, awkwardly clearing his throat and offering some very quiet applause. "I think I forgot you played. Sounds good," he offered her quietly, glancing at the door to the corridor before casting a quick muffliato charm, relaxing as he did so.
 
Delilah let out a sigh when she finished playing a song. It hadn’t gone perfectly but she remembered most of the notes which she was grateful for. It had been a while since she had played and was glad she hadn’t lost all of her ability. She lowered the violin to check the bridge when she heard a voice. She had been so certain she had been alone and she jumped in surprise and knocked her instrument against one of the desks. She gasped and pulled it closer to see if it was dented. It looked fine and she relaxed slightly and finally realized who had crept up on her. She frowned when she saw it was Sawyer, the reaction automatic if not a little unfair. She had been rather cruel to him and even if she had been holding in a nearly year long grudge, she could have handled the whole thing a bit more delicately. “Sometimes I forget too.” she sarcastically, her voice quiet. “Thanks.” Delilah looked around awkwardly and wasn’t sure what to say. “You shouldn’t be out this late.” she blurted out. “I could get you detention.” she added dryly, and hoped he’d know she was joking. Even if she was a prefect, she shouldn't be out this late either.
 
Sawyer was braced for his company to be rejected; Delilah had made it pretty clear that she never wanted to speak to him again last time they'd spoken, but even he could tell that her threat to give him detention had no real heat. "I won't tell if you won't," he said, quirking an eyebrow before hopping up onto one of the unused desks and shooting Delilah a furtive look as the desk creaked ominously. It seemed to hold and Sawyer actually took a moment to think about what he was going to say for once, letting his eyes adjust to the darkened room as he swung his legs. "I remember I had a lot of trouble sleeping... After my mum well. You know. It's like everything I wasn't trying to think about ganged up on me at once the second I laid down," he said, directing it mostly towards the dusty blackboard he could just see at the front of the room rather than to Delilah. He had no idea if this was a welcome conversation, or if Delilah was ready to have it, let alone with him, but he figured he had nothing to loose by offering it, if she needed it. Sawyer had been young when Mum died, but he still remembered the feeling, wanted her to know she could talk to him if she wanted.
 
Delilah fiddled with the fine tuners on her violin even though it had been perfectly in tune moments before. She just didn't know what to do with her hands as Sawyer said he wouldn’t tell and she felt a ghost of a smile try and pull at the corner of her lips. Despite how mad she had been at him in the moment and how badly she had needed to get those things off her chest, she had missed him more than she expected. A selfish part of her was grateful she hadn't scared him off for good. The smile finally won as Sawyer hoped up on one of the desks which creaked threateningly.

But it's victory was short lived as Sawyer spoke again and her heart froze. Delilah wasn't surprised that he knew. She had figured word would get around to those who bothered to know, but she hadn't expected any of her classmates to try and talk to her. Sawyer had mentioned his mother here and there over they years. But not like this, not like it was something they had in common, which now they did. Her head swam as she tried to think of something, anything to say. She had no idea how she was supposed to be feeling. It wasn't like she had a normal father and she wasn't sure he could understand that. "Yeah well you were a kid. Things like this are hard when you're young." she said quietly, finally breaking the silence, and couldn't find it in herself to drag her eyes away from the instrument in her hands.
 
Sawyer felt some of the tension finally break when Delilah cracked a smile. Maybe their friendship hadn't gone entirely down the toilet he thought, tapping his nails against the old desktop. Still, smile or not, Sawyer shouldn't have been surprised that she didn't want to immediately jump into a heart to heart with him about dead parents. He wasn't entirely sure he even wanted to have the conversation, but 'kid' or not, he still remembered the lost feeling, the constant sway between unreality and sharp loss that followed him and Theia around for months, even years after. Sometimes he still missed his mum, especially right now, seeing the violin in Delilah's hand, hearing her play.

"Ah, so it's easier when you're older then? I'll keep that in mind," he said idly, tilting his head at Delilah. "Hard to think it's been that long though, eight years abouts I guess," he said with a sigh, dropping to lean his elbows on his thighs. He looked at her again, the urge to ask if she was okay on the tip of his tongue, but he bit it back down. Hopefully Delilah knew she could talk about things if she wanted to, but he wasn't going to push, especially not after what had happened last semester.
 
Delilah didn't like that she felt like she was being pitied. And she didn't like feeling that he was only talking to her now because of what happened. “Yeah, didn’t you know?” she asked dryly, playing along to whatever it was they were doing. There was only so much she could do to her violin that would give her time to think of something to say that wasn’t just changing its strings. Besides, she didn’t have any spares. She still couldn’t look Sawyer in the eye but she was steadied by the fact that he was still there and showed no sign of leaving. “It’s hard.” she choked out and the words started to bubble up. “Because your mom was probably a good mom. But I’m not entirely sure my dad was a good dad.” They were thoughts she had swirling in the back of her mind for weeks now. And finally they had broken through and spilled out. “And I don’t know what to feel.” she admitted and her voice felt a little wobbly.
 

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