Closed When A Plan Comes Together

[Alfred Gorbach]

He was genuinely surprised the arm touching hers didn’t catch fire. It was burning, but she was… she was still quiet.
He messed it up. He could’ve stayed quiet, he could’ve kept his stupid mouth shut and moved on, but no, he had to hyperfixate on things and always put his five cents in where they didn’t belong. Second time he’d met her, and this was the second time he wished the Earth would open up and swallow him whole and just when he was about to say something else, she finally spoke.

Fine.
He was fine.
But like, fine in a fine way, or fine on the scale of you ruined it to you didn’t, he'd landed somewhere in the middle?
He was too preoccupied with this to even register the joke, or what it implied.

Hello darkness, my old friend…

Should he be surprised? No. He had many flaws, but being academically smart wasn't one of them. He took pride in it. And based on everything he'd done and said, this conclusion of hers was the only natural one.

Not that it meant anything. Totally didn't mean anything. It wasn't even like that. He didn’t even mean to say it. And what did he even know? He was meaner to Eris anyway.
He was stupid when it came to girls, that’s what he knew.

"Thanks."
…???
She said thanks to him, and he said thanks back. Alright, alright, gotta make sure she didn’t have a change of heart, apparently. Once in his lifetime, he had a chance to get a good friend. And obviously, that wasn't enough. Nothing was ever enough for him.
NO.
He wasn't going to ruin this.

"Oh, he definitely had a crush on you. The more annoying we are, the more we like you. Being soft is weak. Gotta show you we’re not weak," and he smiled like a damn fool. Instead of being the tough, ignore-it, man-up, don’t-cry kind of man his dad was raising, he had checked all the boxes and been utterly… mushy. He hated it, but also loved that he could be that way with her and still feel safe. He felt smart enough to be a grown-up already, but this was probably the part that proved he still had a lot of growing up left to do. And he especially loved the fact that his overthinking brain had finally caught up and confirmed he hadn't made a complete idiot of himself. He'd just been soft with her. Nothing he said had slipped too far. Nothing pointed to anything more.

"So. The pact." He sat up, trying to shake it all off. "Think we should start writing it down? We’ve got three rules so far. It’s okay to not be okay, we gotta call each other out on stupidity, and we don’t owe each other anything. What else is really important to you?"​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura avoided literally biting her tongue as she figuratively bit it, not sure if fine was that great of a descriptor or especially helpful. But responding with 'sorry, I just got stuck on the fact you called me pretty' would potentially be weird or make her sound especially vain. And while yes, it did appeal to some vanity within her, it was how unexpected a compliment it was that threw her off.

She nodded in understanding at the comment about manliness. It was the type of thing she'd heard plenty of, well, more her favourite players speaking up about how that wasn't a good attitude and how showing emotion and talking about feelings was okay for men to do. Laura figured that musn't be that easy for boys to do, she had enough trouble talking about how she truly felt to her mum and she had the benefit of being a girl. Well, the fact that he was being nice must have meant he didn't have a crush on her, she reasoned. She wasn't sure how she'd handle that kind of thing if it came up.

Laura couldn't help but think it was nice to see him smile, though.

And that her arm felt colder when he sat back up. Though, that was probably literal.

"I brought some nice paper," Laura admitted, a little sheepish. She sat up and pulled the paper out of a plastic sleeve in her bag. The paper was a little crumpled but clean. Not nearly as crumpled as it could have been. "I thought, 'cause it felt important, it shouldn't just be on normal paper. I brought my good pens too. It doesn't have to be the glitter pen though. That might not look serious and official." She did have regular black and blue pens in her pencilcase, and was again glad that the paper was just a pale blue and not floral or anything like that.

"But I don't think we should have too many rules," she added, the thought bubbling up and coming out of her mouth before she could spend too long considering it. "I mean, yeah, we gotta have some, it's important, just not so many it's like, hard to just talk to each other," she acquiesced, scrunching up her face as she thought. "Um. I guess just...we try and be honest with each other. Not, like, we have to tell each other everything, 'cause that's not fair," she quickly justified, holding her hands up to try and quickly catch what she suspected might be an objection. "Just, you know, if I did something to hurt you, I'd want you to tell me instead of pretending nothing's wrong. You can pretend you don't know anything if you're planning a surprise party for me, of course," she joked. Laura wasn't sure she'd even like a surprise party, but she figured it was something that helped lighten the suggestion. "I don't really know how to put that as a clear rule. We don't have to write it down." She shrugged, making herself busy rummaging through her pencilcase. It was hard putting her own ideas forward, she realised.

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

He was briefly worried she might be curious and ask why boys did that. Because how would he then explain himself out of that situation without incriminating himself? He couldn't do a whole speech about how there are different types of crushes. Sometimes you just think a girl looks cute, and then you say mean stuff to attract attention. Or be bold, or say dumb jokes, because there's no weight to it really. Zero stakes. If you lose, you lose, not that you care that much about the outcome, nor what they think of you.

And then there were crushes where you didn't want to say anything. And once you finally opened your mouth to say a couple of words, the Noah’s Flood amount of words came rushing out, and then you panicked and you had to overthink everything you said not just twice, but thrice and how you wanted to constantly backtrack on everything, and how what they thought of you suddenly meant the world, so now you cared about not making a fool of yourself.
Yeah, now how would he explain that?

But his smile didn't disappear. It even broadened at her mention of the nice paper and pens, and how he saw she even had a plastic sleeve not to ruin it. He wondered how such a small detail could say so much, and whether he should comment on it, but figured he'd already called enough things pretty around here without ever being asked.

"Yeah, I get what you mean." Did he though? Can you pretend you're not fine about them thinking you're fine, and how suddenly you don't even understand the meaning of the word fine? But he wouldn't be signing off on that anyway.

"Do you need me to turn on the flashlight on my phone or are we using your torch?" He assumed she would be doing the writing too. "Oh, and may I?" he added, nodding towards the cup. He wanted some of that tea too.​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura rifled through her bag, realising that they would probably need a surface to rest the paper on to write properly. She had a book on hand, Alice's Adventures In Wonderland specifically. Her aunt had given it to her as a present. Laura remembered her aunt had smirked and commented about how she might find it especially relatable right now. Laura hadn't had the heart to say that wasn't helping. And she did like the story, really. It was just going to serve better as a rest for the paper.

"Oh, right, sorry," she said, handing over the cup as she flicked the torch back on. "Um. My writing isn't...great." She had been vaguely jealous of some of the girls in her class who had especially cute handwriting. Hers was a little too sharp and angular. She'd attempted to try and make it cuter by turning dots into hearts, or even stars, but it didn't really suit her at all. "But we should both write on it. Because, you know, it's important that it's from both of us." Laura nodded as though to punctuate it. Perhaps it was a bit redundant to say.

She decided she would try her very best to at least put a title on the page and allow Alfred to judge for himself, and painstakingly wrote the word 'Friendship'. She then realised she hadn't left enough space to make 'Pact' be the same size as the first word, squeezing it in. She then realised she'd got the i and e the wrong way around in 'friendship', and gasped in shame. "Ohhh my God, don't look," she groaned, face reddening at how she'd messed it up before they'd even started putting their rules in. It was a good thing there were extra pages from that invitation set. "It's so bad," she exclaimed, looking down and back up to Alfred...and letting out a couple of surprised giggles, that started to build into more. It was strange, sometimes, how the silliest and most inane things could set one off, but after all the emotion earlier, a laugh would do her the world of good. It was perhaps most surprising that she didn't feel so ashamed that she wanted to run and hide, but that she felt comfortable enough to invite him to laugh at her. With her, probably more the case. "Maaaaybe you should write the bit at the top."

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

Alfred took the cup, nodding silently in thanks as he took a sip. The tea was still warm, the steam curling up around his face. He exhaled through his nose, pleased. The air was cooler now, and the torchlight made their shadows stretch long across the blanket and the grass.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched her start writing. The moment she let out that groan, his smile widened.
"Ouff," he said with a theatrical wince. "Didn’t realize you were aiming for abstract art. Very bold." If he weren't so reserved, he probably would’ve laughed. Instead, he just kept smiling, cheeks on the verge of hurting.

"Alright, lemme see." He took the paper and the book, tilting them slightly to see if there was anything to salvage. "Ok, no, it’s absolutely ruined." He chuckled. "Can I take a new one?" He didn't look away from her as he asked. Figuring she would say yes, and the bag was already open anyway, he reached for another sheet.

He didn't say anything, but he noticed how she was starting to open up. Maybe his words had actually reached her earlier. All he knew was he absolutely treasured her giggles.

Dare he admit it, he was actually happy right now.

He started writing on the new page. Right in the center, his handwriting came out clean and square, as if copied from a textbook. No curves, no slants, no emotion. Every letter was the same height, same spacing, perfectly aligned on the line. Technically flawless, but empty of individuality.

"This is really nice paper. The pen too," he noted, and proceeded to write down the first rule.
​

Friendship Pact
1. No Debts

He held it out to pass everything back to her, but then he paused. "Tell me one honest thing you've never told anyone, and I'll sign the pact with your glitter pen,” he said, a bit more serious now. He knew it probably meant nothing to her, but for a boy, writing with glitter was a whole different kind of risk. The mockery would be eternal. At least in his old school anyway.​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura would have winced, if she wasn't caught up with laughing. It wasn't even as though it was really that funny. Truthfully, she wasn't even sure if that's what she was laughing at anymore. She'd heard it said that sometimes, when things were grim, all you could really do was laugh at them. And they weren't that grim, not entirely. She wouldn't be alone, at least. She gestured to the bag with a nod, finally calming down enough to have some water from her drink bottle.

"Told you. I'm not good at art." It was probably the subject at school she was worst at, she dreaded art class every Tuesday after lunch for a reason. Drama, weirdly, she actually liked. Music, too, even if she wasn't exactly a prodigy. Perhaps it was something to be said for performing the works of others. "Yeah, I got it for party invitations, but...well, the party didn't happen. At least there's envelopes to keep it in, too." She shrugged, not as bothered by something now long in the rear view. 'It is what it is' seemed to be something of a mantra.

She held up a black pen to write, but retracted the nib with a slow tap on the base while regarding Alfred curiously. "You don't have to use the glitter," Laura quickly responded. Boys didn't tend to like glitter and 'girly' things. EJ often asked why she even had them, to which Laura would have to snappily remind him that she was, in fact, a girl, even if she played footy with the boys rather than talking about boys with the girls at lunch. "But okay."

Laura focused on writing down '2. It's okay to not be okay', thinking carefully with each word and thankfully having no further issues, even if the last okay was a little squished. Her messy writing was a stark contrast to how neat Alfred's was, but once again, it was what it was. "It's so hard to think of something on the spot. Um." She ducked her head slightly. "After I got the letter I put some of my treasures in a metal jewelery box and buried it out at my grandparents place. I made a map to find it so I can dig it up when I graduate. Maybe I'll let you come treasure hunting with me," she half-joked, although somehow she felt sure that if they were still friends, she'd want him there after all of this. "I pretended I lost some of the things like my school badges and mum got really mad about it. I also wrote a letter. It's kind of dumb, but," Laura shrugged. It had felt important when she'd done it, like she needed to be able to find those parts of herself again one day. That, and the school had unburied a time capsule recently so it had been on her mind.

"That, and I'm scared of being locked in small cramped spaces," she admitted. "I dunno if that's what you're wanting to know, unless you're planning on locking me in a cupboard," she added, half as a joke. "I got locked in the toilets after swimming one day at school. I kept yelling for help for like an hour, but it was the last class of the day and everyone had gone. The janitor found me, it's okay. Mum was furious. But I didn't tell anyone who did it or that I have to check the locks every time now and that I feel nervous until I'm out of there. I didn't want people to worry and I didn't want them to think they got to me." The words just kind of spilled out, and she looked down at her hands for a moment. "There. You get two, and you don't even have to use the pen." She pointed at point 1 on the list as though to punctuate it. No deals indeed. It wasn't like she had reason to hide any of this, though she didn't have reason to share it especially either. It just felt comfortable to actually be honest, as embarassing as parts of it could be.

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

"What party?" he asked without thinking better of it. It wasn't that he didn't know some things were off-limits, but they had passed that stage, had they not? If he wanted to know, he would at least ask, and if she wanted to answer, she would. "And I know I don't have to, but a deal's a deal," he smiled at her.

"You did? How is that dumb? That's actually so cool. I kind of wish I did something like that." He paused, shoulders relaxing. "I couldn’t exactly pack all my stuff from Norway to here, but sometimes I do wonder if my things will still be there when I go back. Not that it matters." But it did. A little. More than he liked to admit.

"Mkay, so tunnels are officially out of our escape plan. Noted," he nodded with mock gravity. "Could complicate certain operations, like emergency exit strategies, so it's good we're identifying risks early," he added, quoting some spy movie in his head and feeling briefly like a grown-up. "See, the glitter deal is already paying off," he chuckled.

The comment about lockers caught him off guard. He tilted his head at her story. There were many differences he had picked up on since moving here, but one had started to stand out lately. People here seemed to care an awful lot about what strangers thought. Not friends. Not family. Just... others. Classmates. Passersby. Strangers at the archery range. He didn't get it, but it sort of fascinated him. And he was a bit surprised to learn Laura was like that too.

He reached for the page again and scanned what they had. His handwriting stared back at him, all clean and neat and suffocating. Then he frowned. "Wait. I messed up the order. It's ok not to be okay should've been the first one." He looked briefly at the page, not wanting to ruin it with arrows or crossouts. "Ok, never mind. I'll just add it as a third."

Once it was documented, he glanced again at her writing. She wrote like someone had handed her a chicken’s leg and told her to just do her best. Weirdly, he didn't care. It didn't make him think less of her. Maybe that meant people he cared about wouldn't judge him either. Well, apart from his parents. But then… but then it was complicated.

At the bottom of his page, he wrote down his full name.
Alfred Magnus Gorbach.
"I think if we're gonna seal it with blood, our full names probably have to go with it." He finally slid the paper back toward her. "Figured if you could handle Alfred, you could survive the full curse."​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

"But you said no deals," Laura replied, with mock exasperation. She wasn't truly upset, it was just that typical childish whiny tone. "Birthday party. But my birthday is in January, so everyone's away on summer holidays." That was always annoying. So soon after Christmas, and nobody was around. "It's dumb because I wanted to be a pirate finding buried treasure," she admitted, almost bashful. "And so when I sail the seven seas finding treasure, we'll seek yours out too, if it's not where you left it." She immediately regretted it once she said it, feeling like she was making promises that were far too grandiose and that she'd sound like a liar if it didn't turn out, but the words came out before she could stop the.

Laura shook her head at the comment about tunnels. "Oh, no, that's fine as long as there's a shovel. I just need to know that I can get out. That's why I've got these." She picked up one of her bobby pins, showing it off in the torchlight. "I wanted to learn how to pick locks, just in case." She looked down for a second. "Though, at least you know in case I do freak out." Laura wasn't quite sure yet if telling him this was a good idea or not, but she had let him in on the escape plan idea. And was signing this paper with him. It was confusing. It was a rather intense friendship, but her life was changing rather intensely anyway. Things were different. New.

"The order's okay. As long as they're all there, that's the main thing," she nodded, looking at the paper again. Her writing looked so messy in comparison, but it didn't seem that terrible. She didn't handwrite a whole lot anyway, she supposed she just had to get more practice in for this weird magic school where there weren't computers or anything. She looked back at the name, blurting out "your name is so cool, though," before even thinking of it. Laura quickly covered her mouth, worried that would make him upset. After all, he had issues with his family. Next to it she wrote her full name, a little less concerned about trying to make it as legible as the actual rules. It was a little like a signature, even if her 'signature' was a bit shorter. Laura Aisling Zavaglia.

"My mum's family likes to pretend they're still sort of Irish," Laura explained. "I'm glad my mum made it my middle name instead. It would've sucked having to always tell people how to say Aisling." Though she'd never had much problem with Zavaglia. She blinked, before her lips twisted into a small smile. "Full curse? Are we doing magic already? Dangit, I knew you must've been some sort of fairy prince." She must have been feeling better, to make terrible jokes. Or shaken up, to speak so much without thinking. She genuinely wasn't sure.

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

"You got me," he lifted his hands in surrender, still holding the cup. He almost laughed, but it came out as a grin instead. Her comeback had been clever. "But it's good to know you're staying alert," he said, amused.
"And you know, it's still weird for me. I mean what isn't, but this is particularly weird," he bit his lip, He didn't like how his jokes came out self deprecating, "That it's this warm now. Should be freezing. Does it ever snow here?" it was his sideways way of acknowledging what she said about her birthday. It was sad. Holiday time shouldn't mean someone's birthday was less special, but he didn't want to sound like he was pitying or feeling sorry for her. Which he was, he felt sorry she didn't have to have a party. Then again, it was her eleventh. Same as his. He'd had a party. Not with friends, but like, with every relative. Cheerful, happy, until that letter came. Maybe it was better to get it without a pompous party.

He took another sip, using that as an excuse not to react to the comment about his name. In hindsight it turned out to be a mistake. "Wha...t?" he choked, barely stopping himself from spraying tea all over her and their precious pact. "Fairy prince? What," he laughed, really laughed. It was so sudden it caught him off guard, just like it did that time with Eris. Oh right.
"I met this girl at the archery range and she calls me Sparkles. A fairy prince or Sparkles. Is it because I'm blonde? A fairy prince, I can't," he said, finishing off his cup and screwing the thermos lid back on, still laughing. He hadn’t meant to laugh like that. It just came out, more real than most things he ever let out.​

"Anyway, should we do the blood thin..." he trailed off, eyes catching the name she had written. Aisling. He hadn’t paid much attention when she said it out loud earlier, but seeing it written down made something click. "Ummm.." Something that most definitely shouldn't have clicked the way it did.
"The way you write your middle name, it looks a lot like Arseling. I'm sorry," he burst out again, holding up his hands. "I swear I’m not making fun of you. It just... popped out. That’s what it looks like. I read stupid books where that word is way overused, but that's, wow..." He wasn’t laughing at her, just at his own dumb brain for making the connection. "You can absolutely get me back for that, I'm sorry!"

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura might have felt a little bit of smug satisfaction with her retort. Just a little, however. If anything, she was mostly pleased that he took it so well. She was very conscious of it being genuinely important to him, for things that really mattered. Not for a glitter gel pen. But this was fine, she figured. Even the party didn't feel like a problem. She had to shrug at the question about snow. "I think it does. In some places? I've never really seen snow." She'd seen frost, and she'd seen freezing rain in the middle of winter, but that didn't really count. "Is there lots of snow back home? What's it even like?" It was probably a silly question, but she'd only seen it on TV or in movies. Laura liked the summer Christmas, though, it was nice to go visit her grandparents and eat seafood and go down to the beach on Boxing Day. But the snow would have been nice too, she thought.

"Sparkles?" Laura questioned, tilting her head as the giggles burst back up again. He really didn't strike her as a Sparkles. Now she knew his name, she could hardly imagine him as anything but Alfred. Not even as John Doe. "Hey, I thought really hard about it," she giggled. "You wouldn't tell me your name and you wanted to enter into a pact and have me tell you the truth," she said, not sounding especially confident in her reasoning now she actually said it out loud. "Well, the pacts and names stuff. That's what they do, right?" Laura had a distinct memory of reading a picture book about fairies one day when she had to sit at the physiotherapist while her mum had to work. She had sat in the lunch room pouring over it for an hour and the imagery had stuck with her. "And you do archery, that just seems kinda princely. Though the hotwiring a lawnmower thing did make me think maaaaayyyyybe not. Not so princely." Laura shook her head with a laugh, shrugging. She liked it when Alfred laughed. She felt like she wanted to see him laugh more, though she couldn't exactly force it.

Or complain if it came at her expense. "What?" Laura moved around to kneel next to where Alfred was sitting, tilting her head at the writing. She knew how to spell her own name, of course. Her spelling wasn't even bad, apart from the odd mistake. And sure, the writing was a little shakier than normal (and it wasn't exactly good to begin with), but it looked just fine to her. "You're an arse," she retorted, entirely unseriously, giving him a light shove with her shoulder. Not enough to knock him over or hurt him by any means, just a gentle push. The shoulder shook a little with helpless giggles, and Laura couldn't help but laugh more as Alfred laughed. It was rather contagious, and hard to stop once it started.

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

"Bold move, shoving royalty," he said, still grinning. He let himself lean a little with the nudge, not really trying to stay upright. "That’s your second bold move tonight. How very brave of you, L." His tone stayed light, a little amused. "But you know, the lawnmower stuff, maybe it's my hobby. Like those super rich people who go grocery shopping just to feel normal." He chuckled.
He liked this. The way they could talk about serious things, then immediately end up laughing again. It made him feel safer somehow.

"Oh yes, a lot."
He glanced at her, then out at the dark trees in the distance. "You go to bed and everything’s green, you wake up and it’s white. Proper white, not just frost. The sound changes. Everything goes quiet, like the world’s holding its breath." He shrugged. "I used to sit at the window and just watch it for ages. That first morning after snowfall, you don’t want to ruin it by stepping in it. You just look." His voice dropped a little near the end, then came back again. "Everything becomes better. At least on the outside. The world is more beautiful, everyone’s in good spirits because Christmas is coming, everyone’s happy, it feels like any miracle could come true, and no matter how utterly crap you feel, it gives you a little hope." He sighed, then added, "But you know, as it is with many things, it’s more beautiful from a distance. When you’re looking at it through a window. Otherwise, when you go outside, it’s just cold, and you forget to breathe carefully, and it suddenly feels like someone’s shoving knives up your nose. And the snow sticks to your gloves, makes everything wet, and then your fingers go numb." For whatever reason, he felt like he absolutely had to ruin snow.

"Oh my god, you know, where I come from, we absolutely detest talking about the weather or other meaningless topics, and look at me now. Describing it for five minutes straight," he exhaled loudly, then leaned back onto his hands, stretching his legs out in front of him. "Anyway, I still stand by what I said. Aisling written down reminds me of Arseling," he added, giving her a look that was pure challenge, teasing but not smug, the what are you gonna do about it kind.​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

Laura paused in thought. She remembered that her aunt had told her about the school houses, that they weren't chosen at semi-random like the houses for sports days at school but were based on personality. The choices of personality also seemed a bit uneven. She wasn't sure how earnest her aunt had been, but it made her wonder whether this supposed bravery she was showing would put her in the brave people house. At least red she could kind of live with. Yellow and black like her aunt would be the worst. Laura wouldn't be caught dead in Richmond colours.

But of course, the school would just have to send her home for not being magical. It had to. It made everyone's lives too difficult if she was a witch, even if she kind of liked the idea of being able to do cool magic things and liked the idea of hanging out with Alfred.

She listened patiently to the description of the snow, liking the idea of it but slightly disappointed by how painful it was. She supposed her only real comparison was going to the beach, seeing how inviting the water was and then cramping up stepping in to the ocean because the water was far colder than expected. Laura knew it wasn't at all an apt comparison. "You know, I always thought it would be lots of fun, like the things you see in movies, snowball fights and making snowmen and going sledding. And skiing. Or snowboarding." She supposed she could've asked to go up to Mt Hotham, but the snow fields seemed a bit lacking there. "I guess it's not nearly as fun as it looks." She was slightly disappointed, but it seemed like it was par for the course at the moment.

Laura put on a look of mock offense as he was insistent on the name, mouth agape. She slapped her hand to her chest as though to sell it. "Wow. I share stories with you and this is how you treat me? Ruuuude." She stuck her tongue out, childishly, almost biting it as she lost the fight to look serious and giggled. "Well, don't start calling me that at school or I'll never forgive you." She coughed. "Er, I mean, not that I'll be sticking around at the school that long to worry about it. You know, because of the being trapped thing." It was slightly harder to convince herself the more time she spend with Alfred, however.

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

"Well," he sighed. "I don't know why I said that. It is fun, I mean, it's supposed to be fun, it just…" He paused, not knowing how to put into words the mess inside of him. "It reminds me too much of home and the old days, because all of those things you just mentioned, they're things I used to do with my dad." He rushed the words out to be done with them. "So, I guess I’m just trying to convince myself that my life before wasn't really that great, so it's… yeah, I don't know." He dropped his gaze and his voice went low.

He smiled when she stuck out her tongue, though the smile didn't reach his eyes, as often happened when talking about his parents sent him spiraling. A strange heaviness settled in his stomach when she mentioned not being around at the school that long, reminding him that maybe he shouldn't enjoy his time with L too much, because whatever they had, that would just become another thing that gets taken away. He briefly wondered if she’d consider staying if he asked her, but then remembered her mom and said nothing.

"Yeah," he sat up. "Anyway, are you ready to spill some blood?" He forced his voice to sound cheery, though it probably came across exactly like that - forced. But he didn't want to ruin the night they were having with another one of his uncontrollable waves of misery.​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

"Oh yeah," Laura deadpanned, nodding in agreement. "Convincing yourself always works. That's why I keep saying I'm not magic. And that I'll escape." She sighed, slumping her shoulders a little. She'd heard her mother talking to her uncle about how awkward everything now was. How she didn't know what she'd say to Laura's father for the obligation to keep him updated because he put money towards school. How she didn't know how she'd be able to explain to her coworkers, or the school, or family friends, and it just made Laura feel utterly ashamed for how difficult she was making people's lives. Especially her own.

"Would you..." Laura started, before pausing. She was going to ask if Alfred would show her snow one day, if they did learn that teleportation magic, but that felt like it was way too much to ask. Very much overstepping. Jumping between wanting to flee and wanting to get further magical education. "I mean, yeah, sure, let's do this." Laura looked down, tapping the plaster on her knee, still a little sore and bruised from where she'd scraped it playing soccer. "Could probably get some from here, but that's a bit gross. And it probably needs to be my hand, right? Tradition?" It felt like that was how it was meant to be, not that she really had any sort of basis to go from there. At least the question might give them something else to think about.

 

[Alfred Gorbach]

He smiled again, more genuine this time, like he always did when someone nailed proper deadpan. It was his favorite type of humor, and it was just that. His grin had absolutely nothing to do with her basically admitting she knew she was magical and would not be escaping, meaning they were actually going to that school together. Because let's be honest, what would Alfred even do if he made it back to Norway? Go live with his grandparents? And then what, wait around until his parents found out and kicked him out again? He would not survive the shame. The belittling. The embarrassment.

It was easier to think about the school. About her being there too. His aunt had mentioned something about students getting sorted into four houses. What were the odds they would end up in the same one? He wanted to say high. He wanted to say definitely. Instead, he said nothing, because this was still clearly still a touchy subject.

Empathy, though, had a habit of vanishing whenever something caught his curiosity.

"Would I what?" He raised an eyebrow. "And I think it's better if we just poke a finger or something, but I don't have a needle. I once cut my hand like they do in the movies and it was awful. Hurt for a whole week every time I moved it, and I had to skip all my training. Wait, do we even have anything sharp enough for that?" He was too busy realizing he had come here only half prepared, not even sure they would make it to the pact stage, to notice that maybe casually telling people you cut yourself was not the most normal thing.​

 

[Laura Zavaglia]

The thing about emotions, Laura had realised, was that they were contagious. When everyone was angry at home, she felt angry too. When her mum cried at a sappy movie, so too would Laura end up in tears. It was easy to laugh when others laughed, and it caught more strongly when it was real. Likewise, she found it hard not to smile back at Alfred when there seemed to be genuine feeling behind it.

It was amazing how impressionable one could be, but that was a whole other matter.

The point was that the more she thought about it, the more she was selfishly okay with going to the school, or at least had come to a point of neutrality in weighing up the pros and cons. Although she didn't want to not be able to go home some weekends. That wasn't normal in this day and age. Of course, she wasn't going to bring that up in front of Alfred at the moment, all things considered. Instead she just shifted awkwardly at the question. "It's kind of a silly idea, I just thought if you wanted we could go see snow sometime, even if it's here and it's not the same." She certainly wasn't going to invite herself completely into his space. "I always thought skiing might be cool. Some of the girls at school go on ski trips over the holidays, but they're oh so fancy in their chalets in America," she put on a bit of a silly voice to make fun of the attitude, because they were always a bit full of themselves about it.

Laura winced at the mention of the cut, rifling around in her bag. "Er, I've got a couple of safety pins...yeah I guess we can prick our fingers? Very Sleeping Beauty." She blinked. "Without the whole sleeping for a hundred years thing." She didn't have a knife as yet, and she wasn't sure she was quite caught up in the moment enough to do anything major like that. "Once the zip on my school uniform busted out of nowhere, so now I always have safety pins in case of wardrobe disaster." She felt the need to explain herself, lest her need to be prepared come off as especially odd. Figuring she ought to show courage, she picked out a couple and unclipped one, poking her index finger with it. "Ow, okay, you go."