(1939-01-24) The Ravenclaw Who Can't Think Straight
Details for The Ravenclaw Who Can't Think Straight
Summary: Hephaesta offers Myrus some comfort in light of recent events
Date: 1939-01-24
Location: Ravenclaw Common Room

It was early afternoon, the weekend was about to start. Myrus sits pretty close to the fire. Any closer and his quill or parchment in his lap might catch fire.
Next to him sits a small envelope, obviously for owl message. But he continually crinkles up parchment and tosses it into the fire. He's got a stack of the cheap stuff. And he can't seem to think of what exactly to write.. but it usually starts with 'Dear Mother and Father'. His head was down, and was he sitting in that same spot the night before? Right there on the stone floor? Did he even go to class today? Most other fifth years that knew him would know that he wasn't in class today. Even though he only has one class on Fridays. Or at least this particular day.

Among the handful of other students loitering about the common room, Hephaesta Mulciber sits closest to Myrus and his letter burning. Seated in an armchair with her braced leg extended before her, she has a textbook and writing pad open in her lap. Homework, undoubtedly; the Ravenclaw diet. As the latest crumpled parchment finds its way into the fire, Phae looks up, frowning slightly. "Maybe it would help if you wrote out a list of ideas you want to convey first. It might…save on parchment?"

Myrus sniffs idly, reaching up with his hand probably out of sight of most anyone else there right now, and rubs his eyes with the back of his wrist. "I don't want your help right now-" He glances over his shoulder, then looks back down at his parchment. He just went quiet when he saw it was Miss Gizmo herself. "How are you, Phae?" It sounded forced, like he didn't want to talk at all, but he was still trying to be sociable.

Hephaesta blinks, uncertain how to respond. Clearly, Myrus was distraught. Emotions…messy. But if her time with Ophelia taught her anything, it was that sometimes people just need someone there. "I'm fine…but you're not. Um…is there anything I can do?"

Myrus nods when she says she's fine. Though her outright telling him he wasn't made him freeze, but for just a moment he thought about how obvious it was to most people right about now.
Then she asks if there's anything she -can- do, and his head lowers, and he makes a face, wrought with dismay, and his eyes well up as he just shakes his head. Once or twice his shoulders convulse, shaking his whole body gently with the pair of sobbs.

Hephaesta nibble at her lip, trying to analyze the situation and determine the appropriate solution. But…no, people aren't machines, and emotions make things complicated. "Um…Myrus? It's…it's going to be okay. Whatever it is. Do…do you want to talk about it?"

Myrus can't help it, and he continues sobbing quietly, but he shakes his head in a silent 'no' to her next question. He starts to stand awkwardly and fumbling, grabbing up all his parchment and clutching it close to his chest with one arm, and the other running the back of his robe sleeve against his eyes to try to wipe them, but leaving his wrist there against the bridge of his nose, whatever little he can do to hide himself from the world before he starts towards the stairs to the boys dormitory.

Hephaesta stands up quickly, wincing as she puts undue pressure on her leg. "I know what heartbreak looks like," she says suddenly, her eyes full of sympathy. "I don't know what's going on…but I know that look. I'm sorry. I'm…here if you ever need to talk."

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