- Messages
- 614
- OOC First Name
- Jasmine
- Blood Status
- Muggleborn
- Relationship Status
- Seeing Somebody
- Sexual Orientation
- lesbian
- Wand
- Straight 13 Inch Flexible Ash Wand with Hippogriff Feather Core
- Age
- 4/2031
Hayley sat on the floor beside Harley with a paintbrush in her hand and paints spread out between them, making illicit public art together just like they used to. It was good to spend time with her best friend again, just chatting contentedly. She had missed this. Things had changed between them so much last year, it was a great relief to Hayley to get back to something akin to what they had had before. But there was still a space between them, an unspoken discontentment, and after her talk with Odette Hayley was beginning to feel that perhaps she had been a little unfair.
She couldn't admit the full extent of her feelings, not now, but when there was a lull in the conversation, when they were both concentrating for a quiet moment on their brushstrokes, Hayley abruptly resolved that she had to say something. She didn't want this to break their still-fragile peace, but wouldn't apologising make things better? She had to believe so. "Hey, Harley . . ." Hayley spoke slowly, awkwardly, without looking at her friend. Her eyes were still on the sunglasses she was painting onto the cool deer they had drawn. "I . . . I guess I wanted to . . . apologise. For. How I behaved about you and Odette. I . . . actually had a couple civil conversations with her - and. I think you're right. She's changed." Finally, she turned to look at Harley, dreading her reaction but needing to see it. "I'm sorry."
She couldn't admit the full extent of her feelings, not now, but when there was a lull in the conversation, when they were both concentrating for a quiet moment on their brushstrokes, Hayley abruptly resolved that she had to say something. She didn't want this to break their still-fragile peace, but wouldn't apologising make things better? She had to believe so. "Hey, Harley . . ." Hayley spoke slowly, awkwardly, without looking at her friend. Her eyes were still on the sunglasses she was painting onto the cool deer they had drawn. "I . . . I guess I wanted to . . . apologise. For. How I behaved about you and Odette. I . . . actually had a couple civil conversations with her - and. I think you're right. She's changed." Finally, she turned to look at Harley, dreading her reaction but needing to see it. "I'm sorry."