12 September 2025
It had started raining sometime after lunch and hadn't stopped by dinner. Finnegan had slipped away early, having no appetite for food or company. Alone he had sauntered aimlessly through the dim halls before he had taken up a spot in a window sill on the second floor. He sat with his knees drawn up to his chest, arms wrapped around them, staring listlessly out of the window. Below, the courtyard had emptied of its usual stragglers, the cobblestones were slick and dark, catching the grey light in long, wavering smears. He watched a single leaf get pinned briefly against the glass by the wind, then torn away again. It felt painfully relevant.
Tearing his gaze from the glass he resorted to staring at the palm of his hand. The same hand that had grabbed hold of her wrist, the same hand that had let go, the same hand that had slammed the door of the small hall shut in June's face. Maybe I should chop it off... he thought grimly, it hasn't done me much good.
He could still feel the give of her sleeve under his fingers, the half-second or so he'd been on the precipice of making things right. But he hadn't made things right. He'd stammered like an idiot and let go, and said the most useless two words in the English language: never mind. Never mind? He did mind. He'd been minding for four years and counting...
Distantly he wondered what June was up to right now. She was probably tidying something up, probably sitting in a corner of the Mercator common room with her spine very straight, writing two feet of Applied Magic essay that he had yet to get started on. It was an admirable quality, to be so disciplined and organized, he had liked that about her precisely because he lacked those talents.
Now it just left him feeling hollow. He kept waiting for anger, kept waiting for some reason to feel like this was all her fault in the end, but it never came. There was only this empty quiet, like a still room after all the furniture's been moved out. And yet, some part of her was still roaming around in his head, causing havoc. He'd thought he'd cut her out cleanly, and then she just had to show up again, just when the memory of her had started to lose its lustre.
He turned his head toward the window again, watching the rain splash and pool in the courtyard below.
He was certain now that there would be no patching this, no gluing back the broken pieces, no papering over the holes. Maybe the hurts would soften over the years, maybe, in due time, he'd be able to remember the good times instead of dwelling on the bad times.
The rain kept coming, steady and indifferent. He watched thin stream of water spill from the mouth of a gargoyle, like it had been doing for a hundred years. He wondered then how many more people had sat in this exact spot, wondering and worrying, stewing in their own misery.
He rested his chin on his knees and let his eyes fall shut for a moment, listening to the patter against the window, feeling empty yet strangely at peace. Maybe it was better this way. Eventually the rain would stop and he would have to force himself back up, back toward his dorms. Then a new day would come, and then another, and another, and each day he would think of @June Selwyn a little less.
The sad thought was rudely interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Finnegan's eyes shot open and he tried to sit up a little straighter to seem more casual. With a bit of luck whoever was coming wouldn't even notice him sitting in the dark, or if they did, they would just move along. @Lachlan J Rivers
Tearing his gaze from the glass he resorted to staring at the palm of his hand. The same hand that had grabbed hold of her wrist, the same hand that had let go, the same hand that had slammed the door of the small hall shut in June's face. Maybe I should chop it off... he thought grimly, it hasn't done me much good.
He could still feel the give of her sleeve under his fingers, the half-second or so he'd been on the precipice of making things right. But he hadn't made things right. He'd stammered like an idiot and let go, and said the most useless two words in the English language: never mind. Never mind? He did mind. He'd been minding for four years and counting...
Distantly he wondered what June was up to right now. She was probably tidying something up, probably sitting in a corner of the Mercator common room with her spine very straight, writing two feet of Applied Magic essay that he had yet to get started on. It was an admirable quality, to be so disciplined and organized, he had liked that about her precisely because he lacked those talents.
Now it just left him feeling hollow. He kept waiting for anger, kept waiting for some reason to feel like this was all her fault in the end, but it never came. There was only this empty quiet, like a still room after all the furniture's been moved out. And yet, some part of her was still roaming around in his head, causing havoc. He'd thought he'd cut her out cleanly, and then she just had to show up again, just when the memory of her had started to lose its lustre.
He turned his head toward the window again, watching the rain splash and pool in the courtyard below.
He was certain now that there would be no patching this, no gluing back the broken pieces, no papering over the holes. Maybe the hurts would soften over the years, maybe, in due time, he'd be able to remember the good times instead of dwelling on the bad times.
The rain kept coming, steady and indifferent. He watched thin stream of water spill from the mouth of a gargoyle, like it had been doing for a hundred years. He wondered then how many more people had sat in this exact spot, wondering and worrying, stewing in their own misery.
He rested his chin on his knees and let his eyes fall shut for a moment, listening to the patter against the window, feeling empty yet strangely at peace. Maybe it was better this way. Eventually the rain would stop and he would have to force himself back up, back toward his dorms. Then a new day would come, and then another, and another, and each day he would think of @June Selwyn a little less.
The sad thought was rudely interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. Finnegan's eyes shot open and he tried to sit up a little straighter to seem more casual. With a bit of luck whoever was coming wouldn't even notice him sitting in the dark, or if they did, they would just move along. @Lachlan J Rivers
