Yerik Rhys Price
Well-Known Member
- Messages
- 830
- OOC First Name
- Mintzy
- Wand
- Black Walnut/ Maple Wand 12 3/4 Essence of Silver Thistle
- Age
- 1/2017
If one were to ask Yerik Rhys just what he thought he was doing, he would have said, in his usual manner, "Nothing, of course!" As usual, homework and other student work had been forsaken in favor of a day outside, enjoying the nice weather,even if it was summer and clear skies. Yerik Rhys found that he didn't even want to practice Quidditch today, which indicated just how lazy the boy was feeling today. Instead, he was sprawled out over a stone bench in the gardens of Hogwarts, his entire body covering the area where two or more bottoms could have sat. With one arm thrown over his eyes, and the hem of his t-shirt rising up just so and revealing a strip of stomach, the Ravenclaw was the epitome of a lazy student today, and, like some sort of oversized, overstuffed panda bear, would probably not move from his spot for another two hours, at least, unless someone came along and sat on him...which would have been really disconcerting, especially because Yerik Rhys couldn't think of anyone who would come along and sit on him. He wasn't the type of student who loved to be lazy, he just switched the word relax to lazy just for today.
The boy's mind was a jumble of just about everything. Quidditch, Exams Grades, the question of whether his parents sent him a letter, and all sorts of other school-related things. There was also, every once in a while, the echoing of a familiar voice, almond-shaped brown eyes narrowed at him and a scarf and his room, comfortably chaotic. Then, there was yellow, and a small laugh, and quiet, muffled footsteps down a dark hall, and a small hand clinging to his arm, and a hushed "it's alright" that faded away just as fast as Yerik Rhys imagined it. And then, strangest of all, there was a mattress, and gleeful shrieks, and a staircase, and Yerik Rhys jolted up, then, eyes flying open as he pushed himself off the slab of stone that made up the seat, frowning. Where had that come from? The boy frowned, running one hand down his face, and shaking his head. That thought had come out of absolutely nowhere, nowhere at all. Still frowning, Yerik flopped back down onto the bench, his shirt rising yet again to reveal a wider strip of the Ravenclaw's stomach, hinting at the lean muscle that lay beneath the shirt. An arm was thrown over his face once more, and Yerik Rhys would have gone back to being lazy and dreaming, if he could then. But he couldn't.
The boy's mind was a jumble of just about everything. Quidditch, Exams Grades, the question of whether his parents sent him a letter, and all sorts of other school-related things. There was also, every once in a while, the echoing of a familiar voice, almond-shaped brown eyes narrowed at him and a scarf and his room, comfortably chaotic. Then, there was yellow, and a small laugh, and quiet, muffled footsteps down a dark hall, and a small hand clinging to his arm, and a hushed "it's alright" that faded away just as fast as Yerik Rhys imagined it. And then, strangest of all, there was a mattress, and gleeful shrieks, and a staircase, and Yerik Rhys jolted up, then, eyes flying open as he pushed himself off the slab of stone that made up the seat, frowning. Where had that come from? The boy frowned, running one hand down his face, and shaking his head. That thought had come out of absolutely nowhere, nowhere at all. Still frowning, Yerik flopped back down onto the bench, his shirt rising yet again to reveal a wider strip of the Ravenclaw's stomach, hinting at the lean muscle that lay beneath the shirt. An arm was thrown over his face once more, and Yerik Rhys would have gone back to being lazy and dreaming, if he could then. But he couldn't.