Savage thorns

Archie Renner

🦁 Gryffindor | Father 🌈
 
Messages
990
OOC First Name
Anna
Blood Status
Unknown
Relationship Status
Married
Sexual Orientation
Homosexual
Wand
Straight 12 Inch Flexible Ash Wand with Phoenix Tail Feather Core
Age
35
Esme Lancaster was an impeccable chaser, Archie knew that much from playing quidditch with her throughout the years. He also knew that he needed to deliver a couple of roses to her for Valentine's day. The only problem was that he was unsure of were to find her, if he should search for her inside the castle or on the grounds closer to the quidditch pitch. Eventually he settled on waiting for the Slytherin in the dungeons, hoping she would eventually walk past. "Esme! I have roses to deliver to you!" He called out, smiling, when she eventually walked past.
 
It was a surprising day, to say the least, when Esmé found herself receiving more roses than she could have ever expected, given her reputation in the school. She herself sent a total of zero, not feeling the same out pour of love everyone else seemed to this time of year, unsure how people could be so happy given recent events. Not even Vulcan could help to fill how empty it felt after Avie had passed.

Departing from the Slytherin common room, the witch barely managed a few steps before she was face to face with Archie. It was the first time in years so many people had so eagerly approached her. "More?" She questioned. "From who?"
 
Archie smiled as Esme acknowledged his presence. He then quickly answered her questions, glad that she had received so many roses as he was sure she was good friends with Avie. If his knowledge of the Slytherin quidditch team and the rumors he heard around the school were true. "There sure are more!" He exclaimed. "I do not know who they are from, but here are your roses." He said as he handed her the two yellow roses in his hands. He then shuffled the two scrolls of parchment in his arms, handing them to her when he wasn't awkwardly fiddling with them. Although Archie had no clue what her messages were, he knew they were longer than two sentences as they were long enough to cover two pieces of parchment. "And ah, here are your notes. They're pretty long." He added.
Dear Esme Lancaster
I'm going to keep apologising for what I did, I'll never be able to forgive myself. You've been my friend for a long time and you know I appreciate it, though I definitely have a funny way of showing it I know.

I was sorry to hear about Avie. I know how much he meant to you. I think the whole school is going to be different now. Such a waste of a life. If you ever need to talk, you pretty much know where to find me.

Thanks for everything, Esme.

Jake.
Dear Esme Lancaster,

I wanted to just let you know how much I love you and want you to stay with me over the summer <3. Ok, jokes (maybe). I'm really here to pass on my condolences to poor Avie, he was a good friend. Maybe lay this flower on his tomb (wherever that is) instead of setting fire to this, mmkay?

Luv ya bby,
JA, via twins

P.S. No torturing the messengers please.
 
Esme wasn't sure she could handle any more roses. She didn't want to have to read through the notes, what she told herself were forced, insincere condolences. There was no way that many people genuinely cared for how she was feeling. Still, she took the flowers, followed by the surprisingly long pieces of parchment that came with them. After Emily's note, she wasn't looking forward to what these two also had to say. She'd had enough for one day.

The first, a note from Jakobe, still apologetic over his mistake the previous year, before yet more apologies. He was right about one thing. The school was going to be a lot different. In the days that had passed, the Slytherin found the castle walls confining, and her usual hobbies and activities weren't bringing her as much joy as they used to. Everything reminded her of Avie, from Quidditch to classes. The common room. The lake. Even mere rocks she saw on the grounds.

The second, she at first assumed was from Vulcan, but the further she read, the more her face fell, and the sadness that was sweeping over her before was replaced with a burning anger. James Adams. The last person she wanted to hear of at a time like this, weaseling his way back into her life from outside the castle. "Incendio." The girl hissed through gritted teeth. Her fingertips grew hot, and a curl of smoke rose from the edges of the parchment she held, but no more came of it. They were all too reliant on wands. Instead, she snapped the yellow rose in half at its stem, pressing her shoe into the head of the flower once it had fallen lifelessly to the ground.
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Back
Top