Dark Lord Malfoy - Roses have their thorns -Riley-

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Dec 29, 2009, 8:00am

Dark Lord Malfoy :: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry :: Hogwarts Grounds :: Roses have their thorns -Riley-

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Topic: Roses have their thorns -Riley- (Read 68 times)

Kiley O'Driscall
Hogwarts Student

Slytherin Sixth Year
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Roses have their thorns -Riley-
« Thread Started on Jul 16, 2006, 5:01pm »

There was a sight overcast in the sky, threatening rain. Crisp air ran through Kiley's lungs as she ran through the gardens. Reason for running? To stay in shape of course.
Making her third lap around the vast of the garden, Kiley stopped at a bustle of rose bushes, leaning forward to catch her breath. She rested her hands on her knees, her ponytail falling over her shoulder.
Finally breathing normally, Kiley stood up straight and sighed. Maybe it wasn't to stay in shape. Probably more a stress relief then anything. Last night had drained her, Alavair providing an uncomfortable end to an already bad night.
Shaking her head, she let her hand touch the pedal of a bright red rose, wondering why last night had bothered her so much. Maybe it was just not seeing that side of Alavair before. Kiley didn't have many friends, but those that she did have close to her brought out the softer side of Kiley.
While walking away, Kiley's hand grazed a thorn from the bush she was near. She withdrew her hand sharply, taking in a breath at the small pain.
"Bloody hell." she muttered as she brought her finger to her lips and sucked lightly.

« Last Edit: Jul 16, 2006, 8:48pm by Kiley O'Driscall »

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Riley O'Tiers
Hogwarts Student

Hufflepuff Sixth Year
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Re: Roses have their thorns -Riley-
« Reply #1 on Jul 16, 2006, 9:08pm »

Riley loved the sound of people running, the sound that their shoes made when they hit the pavement. It was a sound that brought him great joy, because he could almost see the person releasing their stress with each footstep. He liked to try and imagine who it was that was running and why.

Of course, he never knew exactly why they were running or rather what they were running from, but he could still liked to listen to them. He could tell of how long they'd been running, how fast, and he could estimate whether they were feel or male by the way their feet hit the grass. It was a great game for him to play, all by himself.

That is, all by himself, until he heard a woman's voice mutter 'Bloody hell!' and he felt compelled to help her. He stood, turning to face her, his sunglasses covering his eyes. He extended his hand to her, "Are you allright?" he asked quietly, hoping he could help her.

He hadn't heard her fall, but she had stopped running, so perhaps she had done something to hurt her ankle, or something. He hoped she wasn't too bad. He also hoped that she didn't notice that his eyes weren;t focused on hers, they were more aimed at her chest area, but he didn;t know that.

And what you don't know can't hurt you, right...

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