| Details for In the Snow |
| Summary: | Marcus and Jenny go for a little walk in the snow to the cliffs and some depth somehow ends up amidst all their banter. |
| Date: | 1939-01-10 |
| Location: | The Cliffs |
| Related: | — |
| Characters |
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Classes are done for the day. The number of students outside has thinned considerably, but a few still make their way across the courtyard. Little snow flakes float down, and while some try to avoid being exposed for too long, others delight in playing with them.
Marcus is neither in one group, nor the other. He lazily leans against a column, covered in his winter robes and hands inside his pockets. He looks forward, and a little up. Thoughtful, one could say. Not very much like him, though. He watches the snow fall in silence, his lips forming a half smirk.
On tiptoe. That was how Jenny moved. Damn quiet too, all things considered. Slowly stalking towards the boy ever so casually leaned in against that post. There was only the occasional crunch of snow and surely, that could have been anyone passing through it didn't actually -have- to be Jenny. Except..
The figure kept coming closer, until she'd finally gotten as close to him as she could; her lithe frame tucked into his shadow as she reached out to slip her hands over his eyes to hide them. No vocal guess who, to give him a clue, either.
Amusement flashes on Marcus' face as his stalker approaches, he looks down for a moment. Has he noticed her? He rolls his shoulders, to loosen them up and looks up again.
Just in time for those hands to cover his eyes. Lips purse. "Oh, Merlin's pants, I wonder who it might be?" He says, his tone a little exaggerated, and with that, and without warning he spins around, so that he's facing her now. Where his eyes were, now is the back of his head, and he wraps his arms around her waist. "I'm so glad it was you. Because boy would I had been in trouble if it had been some boy," he smirks. "Hi, Solomon." The moment holds, just so, before his hands drop from her waist. "You were just a tad too loud in that approach. But points for trying."
Oblivious to the noise that'd given her away, nor whatever other possible clues might have alerted him to her presence, Jenny stands with the kind of grin that's a little secure in its own superiority. Imagine the surprise then, when her hapless victim turns and captures her, remarkably unaware.
Blinking owlishly in Marcus' direction that smug little smile melts into a crooked grin as Jenny rolls her eyes. "Mmm. I might have enjoyed the view better if it'd been some boy," Jenny teases, giving a little tug to his hair just at the nape, before she lets her hands slide from the back of his neck down his shoulders to rest against the crook of his elbows as his own held her waist.
"I'm never loud." Like the brat she was, Jen stuck out her tongue and then, as his did, her hands fell away completely. "Whatcha doin' out here anyway, all by your lonesome?"
Eyes linger briefly on her hands as they drop from his elbows. He grins, and turns to face again… the snow? The nothingness? Something. He shrugs. "I like snow," he offers the simple words. "It's pure, complex. And I'm getting waaay too philosophical here, aren't I?" He asks, chuckling, but the chuckle is not fully there. There is something, hidden or trying to hide in his carefree demeanor.
He nudges Jenny with his elbow then. "You were so loud," he teases her. "So what brings your loud butt out here?" And making a bit of a face, he reaches to flicker some snowflakes off her hair.
In the wake of Marcus flicking that snow away from her face, Jenny looks beyond him, out to the night and the snow and the whatever it could have been that held his attention so importantly that it mattered more than her and then? Well, she did what Jenny's do. She leapt.
Though in this case, she leapt up with the kind of aim that had her arms wrapping in around his neck from the back and her legs hooking in against his hips; calves tucked down to hook there; piggy-back style, rather than around his waist. "Mush, Marmar, Mush! I'll show you the best place to look at the snow around here, before it gets all ucky and tromped on."
Well, that takes him by surprise! Still, instinctively, his hands position themselves to hold her in place. He did say he wouldn't let her fall. Tilting his head to look back, he adds a deadpan, "Ouch."
He's fine, though, and even adjusts his hold on her legs and thighs to make sure she doesn't go falling back on him. "And I have to carry you there? This isn't very dignified, Solomon," he muses, but his tone betrays his lack of care for how dignified this might be or not.
"Admit it, you just wanted to ride me," he does tease, letting the innuendo do most of the work there. "So, where is this magical place you speak of?"
"Oh hush, you're fine," Jenny countered, amusement in the tone as she settled her pointy little chin in on top of Marcus' shoulder between her arm and his neck. A comfortable position, while his hands wrapped around her to keep her from falling.
"Yup. I'm tired. I'm old. I'm getting fat. I just can't carry myself, you're young. You can do it for me." She teased, laughter in the tone while she gave a little squeeze with her knees and settled her thumbs on either side of his chin so that she could direct him around. Honestly, she wouldn't be surprised if he dropped her on her ass.
"Oh you know I do. It's all I think about. Day in. Day out. You. Sy. Hey…you did need a birthday present." She's teasing. "Mush, Marmar! To the Cliffs!"
"Sure, get comfy, why not," Marcus mumbles as she does just that. "You are getting old. I don't know about fat, you keep dropping your food on the floor for pets to get. Which shows, you are getting old," he offers this with a serious tone… as he walks and carries her.
He could drop her, but he doesn't. Her reply to his quip causes him to snort, and he almost does let go, but he holds on and off to the Cliffs he heads.
"…it's only funny when I say it, not you, you cad." Jenny grumps and because if she lets go with her arms she runs the risk of falling, instead, she bites him. Hard. On the only surface available, his neck. "I am not that old." How dare he! How horrible! How tight she clings, incase he does get those Jenny-on-her-face reflexes of his going.
"Not Sy then. Pey? I don't think she likes me like that. Or was the snort because you were thinking about it?" Snickerfit. Her eyes though, slid onwards towards the inky waters and the way the light from the school lit up the snow filled skies to make those falling flakes all the more apparent. "Impervius Frigus," Jenny murmured and sent the cold rebounding and then, repeated the charm again, for Marcus. The winds might be a little up out here, but now the cold couldn't eat through to their bones.
Marcus laughs. "I don't know, I think it's pretty funny when I say it too—OUCH! You bit me!" A pause. "Help, help! I'm being attacked by an old woman!" He chuckles.
On and one he walks, with Jenny on his back. When she mentions Peyton, he grows a little somber, but grinning, he's quick to add, "See, now you're talking." He smirks and slows down, as he says the falling flakes, as his eyes take on the inky waters. He pats her leg then. "Get down, you lazy bum," he tells her, still a little lost in the scenery.
Oh well yelling like that was just asking to be clouted on the head, but Jenny managed to refrain, instead grumble-muttering in his ear as she slid down his back with that little pat to settle her feet on the ground.
"Something's wrong." It doesn't take a brainchild to figure that one out. Or maybe it might, but Jenny knows Marcus and it's a lot easier to sense the shift of emotions through people when you're pressed against them. So, she eases around from his back to stand at his side, looking out over the darkness and the white whirl of flakes on a black setting.
Her robe came off, maybe not the smartest move and there was the suggestion of a shiver when she spread it out across the cold ground and then, settled down on it. Good thing about robes, they spread out to leave plenty of room for more'n one person. "Why don't you sit down and tell me what it is?"
His first instinct is to deny it, to declare that nothing is wrong with him. He is after all, Marcus Aristedes Goyle, self recognized jerk and jackass. And yet, when he opens his mouth, nothing comes out. For a moment, he just stands there, next to Jenny, looking at the snow. As she spreads down the robe on the ground, he undoes his and when he sits down next to her, he throws his robe around the two of them, leaning forward.
"I don't know. I think it's winter, it's getting to me," he chuckles at this, half-heartedly. "I haven't seen much of Pey lately. She's been so busy… I mean, sure, we see each other at class, but I mean outside," he shrugs and takes a deep breath. "I'm an ass, Jen, I should know better than to think…" The snow, his eyes find the snow. "It doesn't matter."
Jenny doesn't press, watching from the corner of her eye so that it doesn't seem she straight up staring at him. it's an attempt to grant him space as well as time, to say things when he's comfortable enough to say them or not at all. That doesn't stop her from looking relieved though, when he drapes his robe over the pair of them and she tucks in a little closer, to share as much of her half of it as possible and to leech off his warmth.
Yet, when he does speak, the problem is that Jenny doesn't…know. Not if they were a thing or just teasing with the notion of being one. "You're not an ass, Marcus." There's a little heat in her tone when she says that. It's pointed. "Not to the people that matter. What is it you should know better than to think?"
"Pey's a good girl. She's a little princess and wants a knight in shining armor," Marcus smirks at this. "I'm no shining knight, I'm nothing of what she wants to find. I thought, I don't know what I thought," his words trail off some there, and he leans in closer to Jenny, to share their heat.
He looks down then, forward. "I should know better than to think that someone like her would go for someone like me," he simply says. "And I am an ass, you're just to old to see it with those old eyes of yours," he squints, to make his point, playfully pretending he's about to poke at Jenny's eyes. Pokepokepoke.
It's a trick, listening. To be honest, Jenny rarely ever actually listens to anyone. She just sort of, pretends she does, says something halfway reasonable and then changes the subject to something light and airy and easier to sink her teeth into. But for Marcus, she's trying to listen. Really listen. The way she's worrying her bottom lip almost to death, proves it. Because she's still worrying over it even when he makes that joke; though she hazards an attempt at a smile. A little lopsided for the fact that she's chewing on her lip still. To the point that she doesn't even try to stop his poke! Oh the blindness.
And…Jenny's still quiet even after it's over and done. Advice. Wisdom. The friendly kind that helps. What the hell is she supposed to say to that?! "You've always been a shining knight to me, Marcus." Eventually she finds her voice and it's soft. "And you're handsome and you're fun and playful and you have a wicked sense of humor and a zest for life and you experiment with things and you're thoughtful and you're smart and you stand up for your beliefs and..," blink blink. "Well." Some throat clearing. "Well anyway, the point is, Peyton would be lucky to have you. Anyone would."
Marcus looks at her, the way she tries to listen, the reaction to his joke, her poor lip. He smirks, but rather than make a comment about it, or tease her, he just let that smirk become an actual genuine one hundred percent smile. The kind he doesn't just give to people.
The silence, he feels by looking forward, that is until he hears her voice, then he looks at her. And the words surprise him somewhat, enough to garner a look of curiosity. When she's done, he looks forward again, thoughtful. Then he tilts his head, so that the side of it bumps against the side of hers. "That's mighty nice of you to say, Solomon," he tells her, and more quietly adds, "Thank you. Silas is a very lucky man," he adds.
That smile of his, it earns one of her own. Open and easy and so remarkably genuine that it could hurt. But she was quicker to look away. Like him looking back out over the night and watching the flakes disappear past the face of the cliff, out of sight towards the inky lake. She reached up to fuss at her hair too, tucking the faekissed strands back in behind her ear.
She matches that lean of his though, so that the crown of her head rests against his. "Yeah well, they were true. Don't let 'em go to your head." A flash of bravo; her general flare and then her voice too, falls to a more muted level. "Yeah." Her commitment to that statement wavered, devoid of faith in herself and colored in other things and in the next moment, she pushed up to her feet and began stalking towards the edge of the cliff.
He can't help but note the change in her voice and Marcus frowns. "Jenny?" He uses the familiar name, rather than her family name. And then, off she is standing up, moving to the cliff.
And right behind her is Marcus, with his robes and standing just behind Jenny. "Something's wrong." He echoes her words from earlier, his eyes narrow as he studies her.
Close as she can get to the edge, while the wind rushes upwards off the cliffs fluttering against her skirt and her vest, against the layers of her uniform and for a moment, all she wants to do is stretch out her arms and…fly. Just one. And then he's there; his voice catching against her ear.
When she turns it's precariously; her heels against the cliffs edge, her back to the night and it's easier to see the snow, looking towards the light; the whole castle swirling in its brilliance. "I can help you, if you want," she offers, ignoring his question and forcing the lie instead into the chipperness of her tone. It wasn't about her. It was about him. He'd been the one upset. "Peyton. I can help. If she's who you want then," and there she smiled, arms extending outward, her eyes on his as if she might just…lean back at any second. "Then she's just exactly who you should have. You two would make a really cute couple, after all and honestly Marmar, you're more than good enough for her."
Marcus is all about cliffs. It's that living to the fullest thing. It's a bit hard to ignore the attraction of being so close to danger, to freedom, to the sky. When she turns, he arches a brow, but he doesn't try to protect her, or save her, or stop her, or pull her away from the edge. No. He stands right there with her.
He smirks briefly at her words, his eyes still regarding her. "You don't have to do that, Jenny," he finds himself saying. "I mean, I appreciate the offer, but," a pause. "What is wrong?" He won't let that go.
"Why not?" There's something to her smile. She's found that genuine place again. The one that's full of compassion and only wants the best for her friend. That place from which she can do good and not think about her own issues. It's a small place but sometimes, sometimes it works for her. Like now.
"I know I don't want too. But it's you. So if you want it, I will. That's how friendships work, ya know? You help me when I'm feeling down or lost, I help you. Let me help, Marcus? I want you to be happy."
Marcus blinks at her words, and frowns briefly. It quickly disappears, though and he grins. "Well… I want to be happy as much as the next wizard," he says and purses his lips.
"Alright, I'll take your help." He decides, but then looks at her, narrowing his eyes. "But only if you let me help and if you stop avoiding my question. What is wrong, Jenny. Talk to me," he tells her, in a matter of fact tone. "Stop trying to magic your way out of telling me."
"Okay." Okay. It's totally okay. So. Okay. "Nothing's wrong." Again there's a smile and her nose wriggles and then, her arms wrap in against her chest. "But, well alright. You got me. I'm a little cold and it's starting to get too me." And the snow flakes were clinging to her hair and doing that thing that snowflakes do, where they glitter and glisten in the light.
"So I guess…we just..we figure out what Peyton likes and the best ways for you to give it to her and instead of taking you away for your birthday, I'll set up something that you two can do together. Oh or a dance, maybe. A nice dinner. Something she can show off her fashion for and you can be all knightly and smooth and wisk her around the floor until the only thing that fills her head is you. And…it'll just, it'll work. And you'll be happy. Because you should be happy."
"Nope, it won't work," Marcus says to her words. A hand reaches out, to flicker off some snowflakes off her hair. "But we can go inside, it is kinda chilly out here," he agrees, looking back in the direction they came.
His eyes briefly close and he takes a deep breath. "You're taking me somewhere for my birthday, don't think I'm letting you get out of that one so easily." A pause. "And while I appreciate what you're trying to do, I… that's not me. I'm not knightly, and I don't want to be. Dance, dinner, sure I can do those. But I'm not the whisking type, I guess." Another pause.
"You, should be happy too, you know."
"Sure it'll work. That's what you do. You figure out what people like, what they enjoy and then, you do things…," He'd paid for tickets to the Appleby Games. Two, no less. For both of them. And he'd done it, when she could have gotten them in for free. And that magazine, for /life/. "..you do things like that. And it just, it works." And her smile came shaped around her teeth, clutching against her bottom lip.
"It'll work for Pey, Marcus," the girl reached out to catch his hand then, to squeeze. "I know it will. And you are knightly. Think about it. How many times have you ever let me fall, huh? None. You're always there. You're just..you're a stealth whisker." Wink. "Besides, you know she'd flutter and preen and be all happy, you taking her out to a nice dinner somewhere or even a private one. Candle light. Soft music. You'll have her kissing you beneath the stars before it's over."
"And I am happy. Helping you be happy, that'll make me happy."
"That's not what I mean," Marcus says, thoughtful, eyes narrowed as he continues to look at Jenny. "And it doesn't just work, Solomon. Sometimes, it doesn't work at all," he tells her.
He's about to turn around, to walk back when he feels her catch his hand, and squeeze it. He looks at said hands together, and squeezes back, along with a deep breath. "I'll give it a shot," he decides to say, grinning at her, a reassuring grin. "But you're still not getting out of taking me out for my birthday," he tells her. He stops there, then faces her completely and reaches for her other hand, so he can hold both in his.
"I'm not going to make you tell me something you don't want to," he says, in a matter of fact tone. "But… you're there, for me, like more than I deserve. So, when you're ready, when you wanna chat, cry, yell, punch. I'll be here, alright?"
"You stupid boy," Jenny complains, talking all over him when the first thing he does is disagree with her clearly sage advice. How dare he! "Would you just, shut up. Shut up for one bloody minute and listen. Of course it works. I know it works, because I've seen it work, because you've done it already. So just, bloody do it again, okay. Just..just for somebody different this time."
Deep breath. In through her nose out through her mouth and then blink, at the sight of his hand capturing another one of hers. "I am getting out of it. I am, because…that's going to be my gift. A night for you and Pey. I'll take care of everything. The flowers you can give her, the music. The dinner. Your favorites and hers," she offered him a smile. "And that way you can take her out. She doesn't have to know I did anything. You don't even have to tell her it's for your birthday. Maybe it'd be better if she just thought it was a night for her anyway but you'll know. And..that's enough for me." A little nod came with it, before she set to giving a gentle tug to free her hands; her robe still laying on the ground.
"I'll always be here for you, Marcus. That's what friends are for. And I know you'll be here for me too. But…part of that is what the Pitch is for." Jenny let bludgers smack her around for a reason after all.
"Somebody different?"
The words leave Marcus' mouth, as he utters them slowly, confused. There isn't a lot of time to think about it, because there is Jenny trying to get out of dragging him around to party, or drink, or whatever it is they were to end up doing.
"You don't even know if she'll agree to it," he protests. "I'll get my night with Pey. But, I also want my night with my mate," he tells her. "I don't see why I can't have both," he notes. He feels the tug of her hands and for a moment, he doesn't let go. Then he does.
"Well, sometimes the pitch might not be enough, is all I'm saying," he quips back. He looks at the snow one last time, "Let's head back. You want a ride?" He points to his back.
"It's you," Jenny says simply and does little to hide the grin that comes with that statement. "I'm pretty sure that I could get almost any girl you wanted to go out with you for a night, short of some of the seventh years, but clearly they have more issues with age than I do." She winked.
It was a little easier, when he let go. And she moved to collect her robe, giving it a hard shake to get the snow off before settling the chilly damp material back around her shoulders. It was as her back was to him that his question caught her and she gave a wry chuckle. "Fine. You can have both. After all, who am I to deny you?" The murmur came on a tease, as she glanced back in his direction.
She didn't really want to go back in, either but staying outside on her own was at the moment equally unappealing. "Sure. After all, didn't you say that was all I wanted from you? And here you are giving it up for free."
"Almost any girl? Really?" Marcus teases, grinning.
He watches as Jenny goes to collect her robe, and brings his hands together in celebration, when she agrees to his demand. "That's right," he tells her. "No denying me," he goes on to say as he waits for her. "Actually… what I said was, that you just wanted to ride me, and here you are, eager to ride me again," he smirks. "Come on, hop on, lazy bum."
"Oh shut up, would you. I already told you that you were amazing. There ought to be a rule somewhere on just how high up it's fair to build your friends in a night. I've done my share of ego stroking already." She teased, grumping playfully.
Though her look became one of playful defense, when he turned it around on her. "Hey! You offered!" And she accepted, regardless; with a little leap that didn't have quite as much umph as before. Her arms looped his neck, her knees hooked against his hips and her head came to settle rather gently in against his shoulder.
"Just…don't ever stay anywhere because of guilt or because you're afraid you'll hurt someone's feelings or any other stupid silly reason. You be where you're happy and where you're sure oh and above all, never rush. Ever. Promise me? Promise it'll be with someone who fulfills you and makes you happy and that you can laugh with and joke and smile and share passions and all of that stuff?"
"Hah! As high as the sky," Marcus easily tells her. "Jen, my ego can take a lot of stroking, trust me," he smiles once again as he teases her. Just like before, hands slide back to hold her in place, as he leans forward. Her words cause him to hesitate, just as he starts walking. He slows down, listening to her. He grows pensive as he walks.
His mouth opens, it closes. "I promise," he simply offers, tilting his head so he can side-glance at her.
He looks forward again, and continues to walk.
"Good," Jenny replies, giving a faint nod and offering a squeezy type hug. "Good." With a little more conviction this time, as one hand clasps to the opposite wrist against the front of his chest. "Because tomorrow we're going to play Quidditch and you can be the Beater." A ghost a smile; a touch of longing that was bitter sweet and then, "Mush!"