| Details for About Trust |
| Summary: | The Day before the Winter Holidays. Silas and Esther have a chance meeting, and a discussion about recent events. (Note: This is a backdated log, thus the late entry) |
| Date: | 19 December, 1938 |
| Location: | Slytherin Common Room |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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It's the common room, and the day before all the students are due to leave. Well, it's the morning. Esther has, as per usual, bucked the trend of sleeping with her peers. And, some might notice, bucked the trend of socializing with them either, breaking one of her 'new' habits rather suddenly and severely ever since her 'public' apology. Now, the Hair is up and in her nightie, silk clinging to her slender form while she sits on the couch, parchment in one hand, her phoenix quill in the other. Her page is blank, save for the idle scratching of her quill, while she stares into the fireplace. Consumed in thought, some might thing. And from the empty cup beside her, still running on coffee.
Silas is excited, unusually so. It's the day before they leave. Time before he gets to go off with Jenny, and just… have her to himself for a time. Not have to share her… with him. That's the plan. It's early, though, and as is his wont Silas is heading down as quick as he can, bounding up the stairs from the boys dormitories.
He's fully dressed, of course, in his uniform, pressed and neat as always. The only thing to mar it is the last vestiges of a black eye… there hadn't been much of the potion left, so he last bit of it would have to clear up on its own.
Then of course, he sees her. The Hair. The recently discarded, and shamed. A little bit of his heart goes out to her, actually, especially knowing how things have soured for her. And so he stops, just as he tops the stairs. "Hey, Esther," is offered.
"Silas." Esther answers levelly, not taking her eyes from the fire for a few long seconds. The last few weeks have been painful for her, it's no real secret. Without Medusa offering support, opposing Alphard and then her sudden, apparently unprovoked surrender. Socially, within their house, she painted a /very/ large target upon herself. She turns to look at him at last, and notices the black eye immediately. The girl fumbles for her book bag, blushing faintly. "I thought I had all the luck. Come, sit." She gestures to the couch nearby. She doesn't particularly wonder why he's up so early… The black eye has her concern, for now.e
And who would be the least likely to take advantage of the target? Silas. "The Nice One." Especially right now, considering some of the looks he's getting for 'leading on' the poor Hufflepuff girl. And so, with a half-smile, he walks over, "I got too close to the field while watching Jenny practice," he offers, somewhat unconvincingly, "Bludger. I was on the field, so technically a fair target."
He takes a seat, the opposite eye's brow raised slightly.
That's what Esther would call an Alphard Shot. "Whatever you want to call it, Silas." Esther frowns, getting to her feet and pulling a few vials from her bag. Eventually, she finds the one she's after, directing him into a seat and dipping her pinky finger into the fluid and quickly dabbing it around the black eye. As softly as she can, so she doesn't hurt him, while tending the injury. It's Murtlap; what else. "I'm sorry we haven't had a chance to talk, since…" Since the morning before she screwed up, big time. "Since we last were alone down here." She murmurs, capping the vial and putting it back away. "… Could I make you a drink?" Introspectivesther.
Silas actually chuckles, knowing that he's rubbish as a liar, "I asked for it," and that's the truth, "Literally. Practically dared her to do it during a row. Over…" He just leaves it at that, actually submitting to the ministrations. "She had a bit of the potion left from when she broker her cheekbone, it got the best of it, but…"
And then she's apologizing, "I've not made time to see you either, really, since the night I saw your painting. I've been…" occupied? That's one word for it, "otherwise engaged, but neglectful. I should be apologizing to you."
As to the offer o drink, he declines, "Never coffee this early in the morning. Upsets my entire day."
Esther has never been one for the intrigue of the House. "As I said. No luck." The girl seems to find the entire situation more ironic than anything else. "You should have asked. Or gone to the infirmary." A frown follows. "Silas, I don't expect you to change your day to suit the needs of a mentally unhinged fifth year." Self deprecation comes easily to the girl, but it comes with a slight smile. "And you could try a hot chocolate. Lucretia seems to be a fan."
Silas chuckles, actually shakes his head once the ministrations are done, "To what end? I'd have to explain why I got hit, and all the drama connected to it. She got angry, she felt horrible afterward, and things are better now. And now she knows I'm not some dandy fooling around before being forced to marry someone else."
He pauses, and then looks at Ester, his head tilting slightly to the side. "I don't think I like that definition, Esther. From what I hear and see I sometimes worry that a part of you is broken… but the two are not mutually exclusive." There's Silas for you, honest to a fault.
The talk of Genevieve is already making Esther uncomfortable. Esther shakes her head, and wanders off behind him to heat the kettle, and pour herself a cup of coffee slowly. "Forgive me for saying, Silas, but you hear far more than you see." The girl shakes her head sadly, and sighs. "I don't think I'm too far gone, personally. But the overwhelming impression that I get from everyone else is that I'm a hairs breadth;" The joke isn't lost on her, it's just unremarked. "From becoming a dark witch, or becoming a complete wreck." Weird. Because she seems so very lucid, at least in this hour of the morning.
"If anything, I'm getting better. People are… Teaching me, in their own way, what mistakes I make." She pulls a face. She doesn't like the lessons that she's learned lately.
"I'm speaking from a voice of experience, Esther. " Silas offers, his smile a bit off-kilter. "Broken isn't the same as… well… what you say they suggest. Not in my mind, anyhow. Otherwise you're not the only person in trouble here." He stands again, then, turning about to face her.
"Many of us are, actually… some of us more than others." he shrugs, "What are they teaching you, then?"
"About trust." Esther's answer is simple. "I know many of us have our own demons. I'm trying to face down mine, and yet people insist on getting in my way. Involving themselves for their own ends, and using me like I was- …" Her voice had started to lift a little. The girl is hurt, obviously. She gathers cup and saucer, before wandering back to the seat she had taken infront of the fireplace. "It's been a long year, Silas. I'm looking forward to it being over." A sigh. She sips her coffee. "Perhaps after the break we'll have more luck meeting up - I'd still love to spend some artistic time with you, if you have the time."
"Some will use you, I warned you about that, that you needed to be careful with your alliances," Silas offers, holding his hands up, "Some will have at least what they think are your best interests at heart." He puts them down, walking around the back of the couch, "And some will be gone in only a few months."
He then walks behind the girl, and places a light hand on her shoulder, assuming she allows it. "And some will try to be your friends, no strings attached. No ulterior motives. I can't say no games… even I play those from time to time. But their intentions will be genuine. Just as you should be careful, you also want to think about what you might want to forgive. Because sometimes they'll hurt you, without ever meaning to… and pushing them away in that moment just causes the both of you pain when you could be leaning on each other instead."
The hand pulls away, and he looks at the exit, "We will, Esther. I'll make the time, even if it's just for some fifth-year," and there's that smile again.
Esther's shoulder is barely shielded by the thin nightie. The Hair turns slowly, to look at his hand, and then along it to the man it's attached to. "Silas… You've always been kind to me. At least, insofar as I know." She offers him a gentle smile. "We know so very little about each other - Much as I'd like to get to know you. I've learned my lesson. I want to trust you, Silas. But I'd be a damned fool if I trusted anyone so soon, again." She places a delicate hand over his, and pats it gently. "And if you thought I might… You're a damned fool, too." The girl sighs. It's something she doesn't relish saying, but hopefully it can be forgiven in light of recent events. "I hope to see you in the new year, Silas… With a new attitude. This week has been too unkind." The girl draws her legs up onto the couch, and brings her arms - And coffee - In close. Withdrawing.
Silas pauses, and then as Esther withdraws, he frowns, leaning down, whispering, "Esther Lowe, if you hear nothing else I say, hear this, coming from one broken-hearted, lonely soul crushed underfoot by those who are supposed to love him, to another. Trust, and the willingness to have it broken, is the only thing that keeps us from being truly broken. I don't expect you to give it to me… but trust at least these words: no one deserves to be alone… and no one should seek it."
He then stands, smiling as his voice returns to normal ,"That, and once I get it in my mind to befriend someone… to enter into their world, I'm not so easily shaken. Heal, for now. The new year has much in store, I think."
And with that, he's gone.