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 [so eden sank to grief], walter // kels
Eve Whelan
 Posted: Dec 27 2016, 08:55 PM
Quote
"'cause i'm hollow"
Lyx
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Hufflepuff Beginner
Age
Height
5'8"
Status
Taken
Year
Sixth
House
Hufflepuff
clash
Undecided
Awards: 8



Her fingers rubbed at the collar of her crisp uniform shirt as she wandered into the common room with a group of Hufflepuffs headed back from Herbology. Underneath, glamoured carefully, lay a long, deep scratch that she had somehow gotten in her sleep. Her nightmares were terrible, and if she hadn’t been sure that she did it to herself, she would say that the nightmare werewolf that she kept seeing –her Uncle Elijah towering over her- had been real. Absently, her thoughts drifted to her cousin, Joshua, beautiful and golden.

Nothing gold can stay, not the prime of youth, not the innocence of childhood, not the purest, bravest hearts she knew. Everything turned to ash and soot.

Her mouth had tasted like ash when she woke from dreams of banshee screams, ash and blood, red and dirty and red like the liquid on her hands, her sheets, and her neck. She didn’t dare tell anyone what she had seen; these were stories that she grew up with, superstitions that she had always taken to heart. Seeing the Bean Sidhe in your sleep was an omen, and not a good one, and she knew better than to let others know that.

She wondered if this was how Joshua felt before he died, seeing the wailing woman in his sleep and knowing that no matter what he did, she was heralding his end.

(She hadn’t seen Andrew in days, and that only aided in her worries. Her brother was not like Esau, who was loyal to people, he was loyal to the clan’s hierarchy and traditions and if he knew- If he knew, he would cut her down where she stood and then Elijah wouldn’t have to do the dirty work.)

Her hand tugged at her tie and instead of going toward her dorm, she turned and headed to Walter’s, the ancient tome in her bag making her feel that much heavier. Joshua was already their martyr, and part of her was telling herself that she didn’t need to become one as well. She could be a coward. Being a coward was easy. She couldn’t deal with the weight of being complicit in her cousin’s death being made to look like an unfortunate accident, in letting her blood get away with another murder in the name of no loose ends.

Wally wasn’t there when she entered the room, and maybe that was for the better. As she sat on the edge of his bed, alone in the dormitory, the overwhelming scent of him engulfed her, bringing tears to her eyes. The others would be fine without her. Miriam had Esau, her sentinel. Andrew didn’t need anyone. Joshua was at peace. Walter, and Nellie, though. Who would care for them when she was gone? Nell already had so much on her shoulders, even though her brother had tried not to make his problems her problem. Losing her would destroy him, and he would never be the same.

Her face sank into her hands as the tears came, gasping sobs filling her ears. She didn’t want this burden. She never wanted this weight in her heart and on her mind, and she knew, she knew that she had to do this. Lambs eventually became lions and this was her time to rise up, betray her blood, and stand up for what she believed. She didn’t realize how hard she was crying or even that she wasn’t alone anymore until she was wrapped in a tight embrace, pulled close to a familiar chest. Even with Walter there, she couldn’t stop, her chest hurting. She felt like she was drowning, suffocating on dry land, and for once, the gravity of what she was about to do was beginning to settle in.

She had slipped into a full-blown panic attack.


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Walter Miller
 Posted: Aug 7 2017, 09:15 PM
Quote
"I'm not angry, I'm just saying."
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16
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Year
6
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N/A
Awards: 22



Walter felt a shiver run along his spine as he shoved the door to the potions classroom open and hurried out. A voice in his head reminded him that being the last one in and the first one out left a rather unsavory impression. Yet the feeling of a thousand critical eyes watching--no, judging--became too much to handle, and the Hufflepuff boy was more than relieved when the Professor finally excused them. Goosebumps spread across the flesh of his arms, and Walter wondered if his peers could see the way he shivered, or if his paranoia was all in his mind. It was a shame how one of his favorite classes could bring him nothing but anxiety now.

The textbooks in his arms felt as heavy as his eyelids, and the bags under his eyes were so large on his pale face that they could carry his textbooks. Walter's dreams held nothing but black, freezing waves that rolled over him again and again, stealing the breath from his lungs and pulling him further away from the warm embrace of the sun. The pounding headache behind his eyes did little to help his waking hours, let alone his nights. He pulled back the sleeve of his robe to check his watch. His next class wasn't for another hour at least. Sleep was out of the question, but Walter hoped against hope that a nap wouldn't hurt. I doubt it'll help, either, he thought with a grimace. But it's something.

Exhaustion clouded his mind so thoroughly that the sound of Eve sobbing from inside his dorm room escaped his notice until he opened the door and spotted the distraught redhead sitting on his bed. Even then it took him a moment to register the sound of her sobbing her bloody heart out.

He stood there, frozen. Walter hadn't seen Eve this upset since...well, not since Joshua's horrible death. The sound of the late Gryffindor choking for breath still echoed in Walter's ears when the room became too quiet, and some morning, when the haze of sleep still had him drowning, the Hufflepuff could swear he still had marks on his arms from where Joshua clutched him, his blue eyes wide and panicked, pleading please, Walter, oh God, I don't want to die!

Blinking back to the present, Walter focused on Eve. The way her hair covered her face looked like a rusty wedding veil. Her shoulders heaved the force of her sobs, and her hands did little to smother the volume. All at once, Walter's heavy heart broke. Carefully, so as not to startle her, the young boy made his way beside her and gathered her shivering frame up into his lanky arms.

“I know love,” he whispered as his voice broke. Tears stung at his eyes as his girlfriend leaned into him. “I'm sorry. I know. I've got you, I'm right here.” Her anguished wails could put even Moaning Myrtle to shame. All too soon, those wails turned into silent gasps for air. Walter's heart stopped for a moment, thinking that her lips would turn blue and she'd begin to scratch at her throat like her cousin did before her. Logic won out after a tense moment of Walter thinking he was about to witness the death of his girlfriend. She was having a panic attack, a terrifying sensation that Walter knew all too well. With trembling hands, Walter smoothed Eve's hair down as he whispered soothing words to her.

“Lay down, hush, hush, I'll be right back, I promise,” he told her. He untangled himself from her arms and laid her down by his pillows before he threw his heavy winter comforter over her skinny body and tucked it around her, almost akin to the way his mother used to swaddle his siblings when they were tots. He dug through his bedside drawer to find the MP3 player his oldest sister gave him for Christmas many years ago and played one of his favorite songs. As the soothing sound of violins settled around them, Walter stretched himself out next to his housemate and pulled her closer until his chin rested on top of her head. He had no idea if those things would help calm her down, but it was what she did for him when he became too overwhelmed with his family, his schooling, Hensley, Joshua, everything. And how could he do any less for her?

“I'm here, love,” he repeated as his own tears fell free. He ran his thin fingers through her copper hair. “I know, I'm sorry. I'm here, I'm right here.”

@Eve Whelan

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Eve Whelan
 Posted: Aug 12 2017, 01:37 PM
Quote
"'cause i'm hollow"
Lyx
Offline
77 Posts
Rep: 1 pts
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Group
Hufflepuff Beginner
Age
Height
5'8"
Status
Taken
Year
Sixth
House
Hufflepuff
clash
Undecided
Awards: 8



The sound of her boyfriend’s voice was distant, almost like someone trying to call to her through a storm and guide her home. His hands smoothed down her hair as he tried to bring her back and she tried to stop choking on sobs and gasps for air, as if someone had shoved her head underwater and let her up again just as she started to fight for air again.

His hands were careful as he laid her back against the pillows on his bed, not the first time and certainly not the last. Without him to hold on to, to anchor herself, she took one of the smaller pillows, curling around it as he tossed his weighted blanket over her slender frame. The sudden pressure made her feel almost as though a weight had come off of her chest, a new sense to focus on drawing her attention away from the sensory overload that came the few times she had ever panicked.

(Eve had panicked, certainly, but never with an audience.)

He came back as the sound of violins gave her something more to focus on. Vaguely, she realized that what he was doing was what she had done for him so many times, and something about that made her want to cry more. The redhead burrowed into his chest, trying to match her breathing to his. Inhalation, shuddering exhalation, shuddering inhalation, but she was still breathing, or trying to at least. She was still breathing. Eve was still alive. Walter was warm and solid against her frame, his lips on her forehead, his fingers running though her long waves, and this was real.

That didn’t stop her from feeling as though she would begin to hear banshee screams at any moment.

She hadn’t told Walter about the weight that she was carrying. She hadn’t told anyone but Madame Breen. Not even Mariposa knew this, nor Miriam. Sweet Miriam who had not been the same since she lost Joshua, who took longer to recover from the full moons, who looked sallow and ill even when the next moon was a whole lifetime away. The things that she had learned from the clan’s own words, through Ezrah… they would destroy whatever semblance was left of life in her family, and they were the only family she would have left after this.

“I have to do something,” she mumbled into Walter’s chest. “The best case scenario is that I’m excommunicated. The worst case…” she made a small sound like a sob, but continued. “Joshua saw banshees in his dreams and so am I.”

@Walter Miller
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