Open Rose Patterned Armour

[Aine Thompson]

At least, thought Aine, stepping slowly into the Great Hall and walking as casually as possible towards the food tables, at least I don't look like a complete and total loser. She had the roses she had received still in hand, not really for any logical reason other than something to say "yes, people actually did send me roses, I have friends". There was even a pink one, too. Which Aine knew from the letter was a strictly platonic pink, but nobody else needed to know that. Maybe it would give her some credibility to appear that someone actually had a crush on her. Goodness knew, everyone else in fourth year seemed to be starting to pair off. Valerius was mooning over Aika or Margo, or perhaps both, she wasn't sure which, which was mildly awkward for her but good for them, she supposed. After New Year's, Aine really didn't want to think about it herself, but she thought that would somehow make her look weird, or people might pry the reason from her and she wasn't willing to go into it. Instead, she loaded a plate with food, found an empty table, and sat herself down in full view of the dance floor in order to people watch, eat, and hopefully ward off bad company.

 

[Cameron Roswell]

Cameron had been feeling annoyingly guilty all day. He hadn't really been thinking when he'd sent the rose to Aine, he'd asked for two yellow ones like he'd done in the past and it was only when he writing out his notes he'd remembered Isadora wasn't around anymore. It felt weird to try and say he didn't need the second one so he'd written a pretty nasty note to Aine and left it at that. Sure, he didn't like her at the best of times, but the thought that he might have ruined her Valentine's somehow had him scanning the hall for her, his camera mostly forgotten around his neck.

It wasn't a huge surprise to see her lurking in a corner alone, but Cameron was determined to try and say something at least neutral to her tonight, at least right up until he spotted the roses Aine had with her. Including a pink one. "Did you steal those or is someone actually nuts enough to send you a pink one," he blurted out. Failed step one, Cameron.

 

[Aine Thompson]

Aine had a strawberry halfway to her lips when Cameron's voice decided to grate on her nerves. She slowly closed her mouth, looking over at him with a displeased glare. He was right, nobody would actually send her a pink rose, at least not as a romantic gesture. This one wasn't, but at least he didn't need to know that. "Is it that hard to believe that someone could, you know, like me?" Aine replied in mild exasperation, even if she didn't even believe it herself. "Though I suppose you think nobody would even send me a yellow one, huh?" She wished she didn't get so riled up. Maybe part of her had sent him the yellow rose because she somehow wanted to be friends. If so, she wasn't doing a very good job of expressing it.

 

[Cameron Roswell]

Cameron felt his face heat up as he sputtered for an answer. He'd come over here to be nice and he'd already managed to ruin it in a single sentence. The thought of someone sending Aine a pink rose made him want to laugh. Or maybe break something, he wasn't sure, but it was a lot easier to lash out at her rather than think about it. "I'm sure there's someone out there with terrible enough taste," he shot back, crossing his arms. "Like Valerius, doesn't he follow you around all the time? He's probably weird enough to do it," he added, ignoring her comment about the yellow roses and its accompanying pang of guilt.

 

[Aine Thompson]

Aine was glad the lights were low enough to hide any flash of hurt that crossed them at his comment. Instead, she just focused on taking a sip of her drink to compose herself before she said anything more. Nobody would genuinely have bad enough taste to put up with her and see her romantically, and it was mostly her own fault. "He knows better," she said after a moment, smirking despite herself. "Probably hangs with me because he's not gonna start making eyes at me or something. He likes girls like Aika. Or Margo." She probably shouldn't have said that last bit, she realized as quickly as she had said it, and busied herself downing her butterbeer.