(1938-11-03) A Handful by Happenstance
Details for A Handful by Happenstance
Summary: Augustin and Eibhlin meet in the evening, and he offers to walk her back to the castle.
Date: 1938-11-03
Location: Clock Tower and Cliffs
Related: Planning for Weekend Warriors

"Bloody hell," Augustin mutters as he stomps toward the clock tower. "Try to be a friend and she just pisses all over you!" He looks upset, his tie is askew, his robes flap around his uniform, and his hair is in wild disarray, like he's been running his hand through it in agitation, which he does now. It's well after dinner-time, but still with time before curfew. Thinking himself alone, he stalks up to a random rock and kicks it in sheer frustration.

The air may be cool and crisp, but sometimes that's just what one needs. That or just to get out of the sometimes stifling walls of the school. Eibhlin is sitting quietly on a large rock, to avoid the cold damp ground, looking over the pages of her notebook. Or rather she was until Augustin draws her attention, the sound of his voice coming up so suddenly causing her to jump and nearly drop said notebook in the process. "Dare I ask who?" she asks given a moment to make sense of the interruption.

Gus whirls around, blinking. "Oh, Shine," he says by way of greeting. "Oh, just me best mate's girlfriend. I'm trying to like her, for his sake, you know. But she's so prickly and hoity-toity. Thinks she's well above most people. The only reason she even deigns to talk to me is because I happen to be pureblood and I /hate/ that." He props his hands on his hips and sighs. "Sorry to interrupt your studying, there."

Eibhlin ohs, mouth forming the word though the sound that comes with it is rather quiet as he rattles on about the girl. "Its alright," she replies to the apology with a shake of her head, a glance spared for the darkening sky. "Probably for the best really, I'd kind of lost track of the time honestly." As for his situation, her blue eyes returning to the boy, "Well, it sounds like you're doing your best with it. You're trying at least."

Gus sighs and nods. "It is somewhat late to be out," he agrees with her. "Come on, I'll walk you up to the castle, if you like." He offers her a gentlemanly arm and a charming little smile.

Eibhlin nods, finding her feet and tucking her notebook into the satchel that hangs from her shoulder. "Thanks," she replies with a smile, accepting the offer as she tucks her arm through his. "So," she can't help but ask given his earlier commentary and somewhat disheveled appearance, "Do I ask what said girlfriend did, Rousseau?"

Gus shrugs. "Oh, well… I can't say too much. But she did rather insult my heritage," he tells her. "Said I was too French, and implied that that was less than masculine for various reasons. Made fun of my hair." He pulls an affronted look. "What is wrong with my hair?" he asks. "Lillian seems to like it well enough."

Eibhlin can't help but laugh, not an outburst of it by any means, but a little giggle does slip out. "Is that all?" she inquires, blue eyes turning up to the boy beside her. "Its a bit mussed right now," she says of his hair, "But other than that I don't see that there's anything wrong with it. Maybe she just has different tastes than Lillian?"

"Thankfully," Gus snorts. He reaches up with his free arm and unsuccessfully tries to smooth the dark blonde hair sticking up every which-way on his head. "Now I've told you what's bothering me," he says, almost cheerfully. "Why don't you tell me something in return?"

Eibhlin giggles just a bit more for his attempt. "Something like…" she beings not quite sure where to go from there. "You seemed upset, I was trying to be friendly," she explains with a shrug. "I was just reviewing a few things really," she adds with a nod towards the notes in her bag.

"Thanks for that," Gus says seriously. "Well, I've heard a rumor about you and Gerald… but then I thought he was dating Parkinson. So either Parkinson is going to come after you with a Bat Bogey hex or you've been wrongly accused. That can't be comfortable either way," he sums up with a concerned look on his face. "I'll bugger off if you want me to, but… since you were so kind to me, I'm offering to return the favor. Consider me your friendly neighborhood crying shoulder."

"You're not the first person to point that out today," Eibhlin admits that she's not completely unaware of said rumor. "And he is," dating Parkinson, "but we're just friends," she adds trying to clarify anything he may have heard up to this point. "So no, not exactly comfortable, but I'm sure I'll survive either way, and thank you for the concern."

Gus pats her hand. "No problem," he tells her. He gives her a sideways look and a teasing grin. "So is there a bloke you /do/ like?" he asks.

Eibhlin flushes lightly, but given her pale complexion there's not much other color for it to hide behind. "Not exactly, no," she replies, turning her head to look out over the lake.

"Well… I suppose that's alright," Augustin says. "Pretty girl like you will surely find a boyfriend when she feels the time is right." He pauses, blinks, and says, "Or, you know, a girlfriend, if that's what you prefer." They're almost to the base of the clock tower by now.

Eibhlin blinks, shaking her head as she looks back to him, "I prefer boys," she assures quickly, she just doesn't have one in mind currently is all. Of course taking her eyes off the path at their feet at just the wrong time a stray rock causes the girl to stumble.

"Careful!" Gus says as he quickly puts his free arm out to catch her. And catch he does, though when he was aiming for an innocent shoulder, he got a handful of something a bit more… fleshy, and decidedly more delightful, if rather forbidden. He freezes in place and red floods his cheeks, visible even in the dim light of late evening. "Aaaaaaaack!" he manages.

Eibhlin clings to his arm where they'd already been linked on the walk back in an attempt to keep herself from falling. Everything would have been find if he'd found his mark of shoulder but instead.. Awkward! "Ahem," the redhead clears her throat, finding her balance as her free hand finds his shoulder. Gus isn't the only one with a red face. "Sorry.."

Gus quickly yanks his hand away from the soft roundness. "Sorry!" he says, his voice breaking with nerves. "I didn't mean to! I would never! I mean — not that it wasn't nice," he babbles. "It was, nice — really nice, just — just that, you know, I have a girl, and even if she's been too busy for me lately, I'm a Hufflepuff, you know, we're loyal and — and will the earth please put me out of my misery and just open up and swallow me now?" He covers his face and groans with embarrassment.

Eibhlin flushes all the more at his attempt to apologize. "It was an accident," she agrees, words holding a bit of hesitation as she searches for the right ones to use. "I.." she tries, pulling her hand from his shoulder now that she's steady, and moves to untangle her other arm from his. "I should go."

Gus lets her go and steps back, still bright red. "It was absolutely an accident and I apologize /most/ profusely," he tells her. He's wringing his hands. "Yes, ah, I'll go, too!" He turns and bolts, robes flapping behind him, landing an air of frantic frenzy to his retreat.

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