KNOWLEDGE.

AIDEN AVERY. 18. EX-RAVENCLAW. INDECISIVE MESS.

[hilarioushumorfromouterspace]

[a-rebel-boy]

Julian Morris photoshoot by Lesa Amoore

[schmidtsburg]

[aidenavry-blog]

The Socialite’s Respite / Aiden + Antonin

@antonin-whoisleft

Aiden’s father had advised him that if you ever happened to be attending an occasion worthy of a fine suit, you had two options: either turn up early, order an expensive glass of something, and make yourself comfortable with the intent to trick the other into thinking their late and wasting your time, or turn up ‘fashionably late’, giving the impression that you had far better, important things in your schedule than to arrive on the dot. The latter, however, his father had urged, should be used with caution, and only with those you considered needed you more than you needed them. Either way, both of these were power moves, a way of asserting your own importance, and Aiden always considered that these influences should only really be utilised against competitors rather than allies. 

The Dolohov boy was someone who arrived early, if Aiden recalled correctly, so there was no real need to do the same (especially since Antonin always managed to arrive earlier than he no matter how hard Aiden tried) so he settled for Just On Time, the more diplomatic option, he felt. 

He closed the door to his house, making sure to lock it with a casual flick of his wand before flapping his cloak slightly to adjust himself against the cool, evening breeze. He hadn’t really wondered whether this meeting had any ulterior motive. By this point he had assumed it was merely a friendly get together, especially considering he hadn’t seen the ex-Slytherin for quite some time. These kind of arrangements were simply part of the rounds in a socialite’s day to day life, and he had no reason to feel anxious about it, no reason at all. Yet, as he stared up into the clear sky, taking in the blues and purples of dusk as it melted elegantly into darkness, he felt his heart do it’s familiar tugs, like a blind man trying to warn him of something it could feel but couldn’t see. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes for a second, letting the feeling settle for a second even though he knew deep down that it would be lingering for some time, before allowing himself an exhale and apparating where he stood.

He arrived just outside the restaurant. It was one he had been to a couple times before but with his father. French, with the air and grace and glitz of something Fitzgerald would have written about. It was also important you were familiar with all the top restaurants so you could impress others with your tastes. It was a bonus if you managed to get friendly with the manager, which luckily for the pair, Aiden’s father had - hence why they were able to get such a good table in such a small space of time.

Aiden was greeted by name at the door, allowing the doorman to take his cloak and direct him to their table, upstairs, towards one of the secluded corners next to the balcony, of course. It had the best view out of all the tables, Aiden thought, particularly the one that stretched over London with the fancy streets and dusty horizon. As he worked his way up, whilst politely indulging in the waiter’s entirely French small talk, he started to feel the knots of apprehension dry his throat and squeeze his stomach in that unpleasant sort of way. Fortunately, he had spotted Antonin with relative ease before the feeling could get any worse, and thanking the man who had escorted him, strolled casually across the near empty room to their table. 

‘Antonin,’ he greeted with a grin and an outstretched hand once he had gotten close enough. ‘Pleasure to see you again, old friend, how are you? I hope I haven’t kept you waiting too long.’

[aidenavry-blog]

Here We Go Again : Open

[aidenavry-blog]

emmeline-whoisleft‌:

Emmeline wasn’t a needy person by nature. She was famous for failing to keep in contact, miss dinner dates with friends or just stay familiar with one group of people. When it came to Aiden, it was complicated. She’d made an effort with him due to their very obvious differences, and, honestly, because he was a difficult person to befriend. She liked challenges, and he was one. When they stopped communicating, a part of her felt betrayed, even if she was usually the type of friend to vanish, just as he did.

She’d understood, in a way. Thoughts of what had happened to Archer came to mind. Emmeline had been unsure how to approach him after that. She was never fond of the Slytherin Avery, he always frightened her a little. But when he’d died, she was sad for Aiden. There was no comfort she could provide, not really. She was never sure how to continue their friendship from there. Emmeline hoped that maybe letters after time had passed would get them back on track. Alas, she had gone unanswered.

Regardless of what happened, his greeting annoyed her. Sure, he’d let his guard drop, looking far more informal than he usually did. She was grateful he seemed at least somewhat trusting of her, even with the lack of contact. Still, she stared at him expectantly, waiting for something other than continuing with his weather opening. When there didn’t seem to be a continuation, Emmeline rolled her eyes. “Yeah, you’re right. Embracing a stereotype about how continuously overcast we are is a fantastic improvement on a lame icebreaker.”

She raised an eyebrow at his question. Hogwarts had become far less friendly over the last year, or maybe she was just picking up on things she hadn’t before. When he took a few steps towards her, she tilted her head to the side, taking a few back to compensate, irritation obvious on her expression. “How’s the tower? You didn’t think to ask this sooner? What do you expect me to say? It’s been six months, I’m used to not dragging you out to every social gathering now.”

She wasn’t, but she kept her glare in place anyway. “And you missed our Hogsmeade tradition. I had to pay for my own Honeydukes, which just simply isn’t on.”

Aiden quickly realised that Emmeline’s sarcasm was less playful banter and more of an offensive technique because she was hurt. He believed she had every right to react the way she did after the way he had been treating her the past few months. Aiden’s paranoia and anxiety was an issue that affected every aspect of his life, and it had filtered into the relationships with with the people he loved. Evan, Emmeline, even his own sister, were all starting to reel their heads at his odd behaviour, but Aiden just couldn’t justify his actions because he was just as confused by them as they were. What frustrated him the most was the fact that this was an issue that was personal to him and shouldn’t have to hurt the people he cared about, and yet it did. 

‘Fair enough,’ he sighed defeatedly, looking down at the ground for a moment whilst he constructed his next sentence. Aiden had hoped his innate jauntiness would loosen up any tensions between them, but this was clearly something that had affected Emmeline much deeper than Aiden initially assumed. It was unusual for him to have nothing to say. Aiden Avery, who without even trying, could conjure enough natural charm and grace to influence a whole room of political figures to his favour if he so wished, could not design a sentence worth saying to Emmeline at that moment. She was different, and she could not be charmed in the same way a politician or a socialite could, and he knew it would be offensive to even try. 

The next interrogative caused his stomach to flip unpleasantly. He knew the unanswered letters would crop up as a subject at some point, he just never expected it to arrive so quickly and backed with so much hostility. There was though, a hint of that familiar humour to her tone however, that eased his mind slightly. He could work with that. 

‘I’m...sorry, Emmeline, I really am,’ he replied with a sheepish expression. ‘You have...every right to be mad at me. My behaviour the past few months, not great, I’m sorry. But listen,’ he continued, whilst moving towards her like they were an old married couple after a petty quarrel trying to pick the pieces up again. ‘How about we do that now?’ he proposed, easing a soft smile onto his features as he did. ‘And you know what? Since I’ve been such an arse, I’ll pay for everything. Sweets and all. I’ll even buy you extra cauldron cakes, if you’d like. To make up for last year.’

[anxietyproblem]

[midsommars-deactivated20201109]

Say You Will (2017) Directed by Nick Naveda

[evanrosier-wil]

ignoring the problem // Aiden & Evan

[aidenavry-blog]

evanrosier-wil‌:

@aidenavry

The last time Evan had seen Aiden Avery, it had been from across the street. He had been in Duagon Alley to pick up some last minute Christmas gifts when he spotted that surprisingly familiar face. Familiar, because Aiden and Evan had known each other for almost Evan’s entire life. Surprising, because by all appearances, Aiden was ignoring Evan. Had been ever since Archer died. But that was Aiden’s choice, and Evan respected it; grief made people do odd things. So he observed his old friend from afar. Aiden did not appear to be holding up well. There were bags under his eyes, faint as they were, and his shoulders were hitched just a little too high for him to pull off the ‘casual’ look. The longer Evan watched Aiden, the more he got the impression the other boy was ready to jump out of his skin. But still, Evan said nothing. Did nothing. 

He waited some more. 

A few months later, when word reached Evan that Aiden had been spotted in Hogsmede, he decided that the waiting game had run its course. Now was the time for action. So he did the logical thing: track down Aiden’s new address and proceed to show up unannounced. 

Evan wrote to his father asking for Aiden’s new address. Presumably, his father would either tell him if he knew or reach out to Aiden’s father if he didn’t. The two men had been ‘neighbours’ (a term that was more loosely defined among wizards than muggles) for many years, so it was a reasonable assumption that a child’s new address was a topic of conversation between them. It was a risk, but going through two parents seemed better than going through Ava. She had a lot on her plate and didn’t need something else to worry about. Luckily, the next day, Evan received an owl during lunch with Aiden’s new address.

And that was how Evan found himself sneaking away to a secluded spot in Hogsmede village on that fine March afternoon. Once he was positive no one had seen him travel to that spot, he disapparated-

-and appeared at the beginning of a front path leading up to a perfectly fine (if a tad large) old house with white walls and a lovely little garden. Evan had actually been where he stood before, a few years back, when he had been wandering around the area surrounding the Avery estate with Ava. Evan walked up to the house and knocked three times. When the door opened, he walked right into the entryway, so as to eliminate the possibility of having the door shut in his face. (That was a real possibility, what with the way Aiden had been ignoring him.)

“Aiden, how have you been doing?” he asked, admittedly a little pointedly. Maybe not the best way to start this conversation, but enough was enough. He hung his coat on a hook and looked around the foyer. “Lovely garden. I presume you’ve been waiting for it to be in full bloom before having a house warming?”

Aiden had barely gotten through the door himself before the untimely arrival of his friend. He had been walking Cleo through the woods for a while. His stroll hadn’t supposed to last more than an hour or so, but as was typical of his current condition, he found himself swarmed by his own thoughts, and had unintentionally disappeared for the most part of the morning. His mind had already constructed an excuse if one were to ask why he had been out for so long (a scenario he knew deep down was unlikely to crop up, but he felt the strange compulsion to prepare for it anyway) and it had something to do with how Cleo was characteristically restless for a pup, and working spaniels were delightfully unpredictable as a breed, and needed all the fresh air and exercise they could get. 

He entered through the back door, shuffling his feet on the mat before hanging his cloak up and making his way towards the kitchen. By this point, poor Cleo had already collapsed on her bed next to his favoured armchair and was long asleep. Time for a nice spot of tea and some reading, he thought to himself, an activity which would have gone interrupted if he had gotten back a little earlier. 

The resounding trio of knocks sent Aiden’s breath to hitch before he had time to exhale. He momentarily debated faking he was out, but the visitor only needed to lean their head to the side to see through the window to the kitchen and know that he was there. There was a chance they already saw him. With a sidewise glance at Cleo from the other room, Aiden started toward the door, trying to anchor his heart rate into a natural rhythm without much success. 

He opened the door. ‘Evan?’ Aiden responded with what he hoped was delighted surprise, but it was most likely bordering on just surprise. He wasn’t used to having guests arrive unannounced, especially ones who usually warned their hosts beforehand. ‘I’m afraid I wasn’t expecting you.’ His words followed the younger boy as he pushed past, and he could see that Evan was somewhat agitated or...concerned, perhaps? Either way, the pointed interrogatory was a little confrontational and Aiden wasn’t entirely comfortable with it all. He hoped the visit would be brief.

Despite the intrusion, he had managed to get over the initial shock quickly, and was already projecting a placid demeanour. Aiden was too mild-mannered to approach Evan’s curtness with any aggression anyway, so he decided to play along the best way he knew how - with diplomacy and grace. ‘I’ve been...fine,’ he replied, realising that he may have left too long of a gap between the last two words to be completely convincing, but he continued as if nothing happened. ‘Thank you for asking. How about you?’

Deep down Aiden knew this whole routine was futile. Evan was scarily observant, enough to pick up on the smallest twitch of unusual body language or facial expression, and he knew that Evan was one of the very few people who could read him with some accuracy. It was a talent, amongst many other factors, that drew them together in the first place, but just so happened to be the main reason why Aiden had been avoiding him all this time. Now it was coming back to haunt him.

‘A house warming?’ he echoed. The whole idea seemed absurd to him right now, but then again he had forgotten how long he had been living there, and he knew Evan had a point. Aiden was acting unusual and completely out of sync with life. Those little social traditions that were so important to keep track of growing up, now seemed so insignificant to him ever since Archer’s passing. ‘I mean, of course! Although, I’m not great at organising parties and I’ve been so busy recently, with the Ministry.’ Aiden knew the excuse was sloppy, but he hoped it was delivered with enough conviction as it was, partly, rooted in an element of truth. ‘But then again I’m sure if I can get Ava to help me co-ordinate a small gathering, I wouldn’t be too opposed to the idea. She’s much better in the social scene than I am. Is this why you’ve come?’ Aiden continued to needle, quietly utilising the inquiry to urge the conversation on to its hopefully nearing demise. ‘As much as I love people complimenting my garden, it’s not usually a main drive for visitors.’

[aidenavry-blog]

𝐀𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍'𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐆𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓

BASICS:

House: Ravenclaw (duh).

Pets: a tawny barn owl named Oscar (as in Oscar Wilde, one of his favourite authors)

Joined: Autumn 1969

Graduated: Summer 1977

CLUBS        (strike are clubs he was not active through to his graduation):

It’s important to note that many of the clubs Aiden joined were methods of gaining knowledge outside of what he could gauge from a textbook. If he could read about it, he didn’t see much point in joining that particular society (unless he was incredibly passionate about it). 

Ancient Runes Society (joined first year)

Astronomy club (joined first year, left midway through second year)

Literature discussion (joined first year)

Duelling club (joined third year)

Mock Wizengamot Debate Team (joined third year)

Gobstones club (joined first year - became less active as the years went on)

Society of Tutors (joined fifth year)

OTHER:

Slug Club (scouted in fourth year)

SUBJECTS:

Favourite subject: History of Magic and Charms

Least favourite: Potions and Herbology

Third year electives: Arithmancy and Study of Ancient Runes

Sixth-seventh year: Transfiguration, Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, History of Magic, Charms, and Arithmancy.

GRADES:

O.W.Ls: attained O’s except for in Potions and Herbology.

N.E.W.Ts: attained O’s in everything (yup, he was that kid)

[aidenavry-blog]

THE  WIT  AND  CHARM  OF  AN  UNLIKELY  FRIENDSHIP .     EMMELINE   +   AIDEN .    1   /   ?      (   @emmeline-whoisleft   )

[ultimatespider]

someone: are u ok

me, 2 seconds away from breaking down:

[aidenavry-blog]

me whenever anyone looks at me: *peace sign*

[aidenavry-blog]

Here We Go Again : Open

[aidenavry-blog]

emmeline-whoisleft‌:

Emmeline hated Hogsmeade.

She supposed, logically, it was unfair to dislike the location. The village had been a source of joy for her since her third year, and it brought back memories of wonder and enthusiasm. The shops were welcoming, the food was – sometimes – less than spectacular but still a welcome change from the continuous feasts that were laid out in the Great Hall. She’d buy her weight in Honeydukes sweets, end up giving most of them away in fear of being sick. Then she’d have a Butterbeer, maybe smuggle in a shot of Firewhiskey, and enjoy her life.

It was a shame how one bad memory could taint otherwise wonderful ones.

Emmeline refused to let fear rule over her, but with a useless wand in her pocket and an inability to defend herself, to say her nerves were playing up was an understatement. Whether it was intentional or not, the first place she noticed upon entering the village was the alley leading to some backstreets where the incident took place. She half expected to see the witch who haunted her nightmares standing there, waiting to finish her off or torment her further. It did nothing to steady her racing heart to see it empty, and as she continued on her journey, her gaze wandered over her shoulder more often than not.

She figured she’d made a mistake by coming here, but she was running out of ink and her last quill had been snapped in half as she hurried to finish an essay. And while Emmeline was certain she could have simply just asked someone else to borrow equipment, it would just be hiding – and what example would that set? Still, walking down the cobbled street just to prove a point didn’t seem worth it any more. And she was prepared to turn and leave again, take off running if she had too-

And then she saw someone apparate a few feet away from her, rather awkwardly, looking somewhat distressed. Emmeline recognised the face immediately – friendly, another good memory. And someone she certainly did not expect to see in Hogsmeade any time soon. While her panic did not subside, and her eyes still checked her surroundings before she approached him, she automatically felt a little more comfortable seeing Aiden Avery.

Emmeline blinked in surprise at his words, glancing upwards towards the sky then back at him with a raised eyebrow. “I was expecting a warmer greeting, but if we’re back to ice-breakers about the weather, I’ll play along.”

It’s been a while since he’s seen Emmeline (but then again, it’s been a while since he’s seen anyone - other than Cleo, that is). Through the dull mist of trauma that seemed to drape over everything these days, he could just about distinguish a handful of purer memories untouched by the dark fog, ones that so happened to be connected to the young woman in front of him. Throughout his time at Hogwarts, Aiden rarely went out, nor did he actively seek other friends beyond the four corners of a classroom or late afternoon extracurricular activities. But Emmeline was one of the very few who approached him first, full of energy and dimpled grins, a stark contrast from the stiff smiles and graceful demeanours belonging to the usual crowd he surrounded himself with.

Although Aiden’s family never explicitly stated to avoid muggle-borns, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t often encouraged to prioritise connections with pureblood families lingering the middle to upper tier. Everything will always be a game of who knows who, a game which required a level of ambition that Aiden just did not have. Not that that was an issue. Aiden’s mild manners was a quality his father cherished. It meant if anything, he would be able to get along with all walks of life - a very favourable attribute when heading into politics. 

‘Less icebreaker more just…perpetuating a British stereotype,’ he quipped back, dropping his hands into his cloak pockets with a level of informality he reserved only for close friends and family members. His heart rate had, thankfully, began to slow, and his thoughts were emerging clearer than before. Perhaps it was a coincidence, or perhaps it was simply the product of seeing a familiar, friendlier face over the ones he would usually interact with at the Ministry or at home. With a drop however, he remembered the stack of unanswered letters sitting in a drawer by the kitchen, all invitations from the younger Ravenclaw to visit her smaller flat. It was a pastime he previously indulged in on a regular basis, but recent times had brought a degree of isolation that was previously unlike him. But he couldn’t tell her the real reason for it. Not yet, anyway.

‘How’s the tower without me?’ he asked whilst allowing himself to take a few steps towards her, letting the question be an excuse to shift away from the spot that had been haunting his dreams the past two years. ‘Duller, I expect?’

[kivircikiss-deactivated20170916]

[aidenavry-blog]

Here We Go Again : Open

[aidenavry-blog]

bellatrix-whoisleft‌:

Always on guard anymore, Bellatrix turned quickly towards the pop! of Apparation. It was deliberate enough that someone might think she’d been expecting a visitor, not the haphazard scouting of paranoia. After all, this was caution, nothing less. It was broad daylight to boot.

She relaxed her shoulders when she realized her opponent—acquaintance was both unsteady and someone she knew. She waited a few seconds after his greeting, taking him in with a keen eye. If she was a gentler person, it could be regarded as a chance to really catch himself. As it stood, she had a plan for Aiden Avery, a long play at this rate, and it fell into that.

“Aiden,” she said in greeting. His brother had been… closer in that they shared a house, and she had an ever fluctuating degree of respect for him. She was hoping this milder triplet wouldn’t prove quite as stupid given his house. She could deal with having the wrong temperament; it was much more fixable. 

“It is Spring,” Bellatrix said in way of agreement. She closed the distance between them a few steps, continuing with this conversational pace. “I have to say, I did not expect I would see you here today.” It hung just a beat. “Dreary weather, as it is, not a lot of people are out.”

Years of social training had prepared him for moments like this. As a socialite you were bound to cross someone of similar calibre, and it was imperative you knew how how to proceed without unintentionally losing face. The Blacks were a family with complicated choreography, however. They danced in circles, luring you into a false sense of security before completely changing direction, whilst retaining the same level of expectation for you to follow (or try your best to). Fall behind and that was your fault. Yet despite his recent skittishness, Aiden hadn’t lost his ability to ‘dance’, and so forcing himself to relax despite the remaining trails of his thumping heart (and ignoring the steady waves of nausea at the pit of his stomach), he proceeded with the same familiar level of nonchalant caution as he had done before. 

‘Bellatrix,’ he responded with the same position of polite casualness she projected. The eldest Black was certainly the scariest of the three, but given that he had witnessed Archer maintain some level of camaraderie with her over the years, he believed that interacting with Bellatrix shouldn’t be too different from interacting with his brother. Hopefully. 

He nodded at her latter remark. Of course the real reason for why he had been avoiding the little village was something he wouldn’t share with her, or anyone for that matter. So with a jaunty rock on his heels, he crafted his next sentence with the appearance of someone who had purpose, and not someone who had stumbled into this location in an embarrassing fit of anxiety. ‘Ah, well, I think it’s about time I returned to Hogsmeade, don’t you?’ He passed a little smile and sideways tilt of his head as part of the overall charm he was attempting to cast. ‘In fact, I am in need of some new quills, hence my visit. I was thinking Diagon Alley but there’s only so many times I can visit the same shop.’

[ava-avery]

still avoiding tomorrow II a&a

[aidenavry-blog]

ava-avery‌:

It was another curveball thrown by life. Ava had spent the past two years scrambling to deal with her life overturning in one way or another, and every time she was close to grasping normalcy, it felt like she was thrown back into the deep end. Ava hated the helpless feeling of having no idea what to do or what to say. Somehow she had always managed to make do, but looking at Aiden now, Ava had no idea what action came next.

‘Aiden-‘ she tried, her voice trailing off as her brain raced through options. Did he want her there? Did he want her to leave? Sibling talk about real things had never been her forte, holding cards close to her chest. Now, once more, she found herself in foreign territory.

A mixture of emotions bubbled to her throat, all of them scrambling for the largest space and all of them threatening to choke her. Some of them were the old, familiar ones that seemed to constantly hover at the pit of her stomach, always seconds away from bobbing to the surface. Ava felt helpless to them, the despair, the feeling of uselessness. It was like standing shivering on paper-thin ice too early in the season, watching as cracks slowly spread beneath her feet, knowing that the wrong breath would crack it open and send her spiralling into icy water. But one of the more overwhelming senses was the one she had managed to carefully bury, that had been crawling back to the surface the few months, no matter how hard Ava had tried to push it back.

Guilt filled her like it was lead, dragging her down. How many times had she stared at her ceiling at night, listening as the lone cars drove by outside, and feeling worried about Aiden, about once more ignoring signs? More times than she could count. As many times as she had pressed palms against her eyelids and told herself that he was okay, they were okay- it would be fine. He wasn’t Archer, he wasn’t her. Ava knew, deep down in that little place she never visited, that it had been lies. And looking at him now, her heart writhed.

Worse of all, she had no idea what to do.

All the sleepless nights where she had played through every minute detail of her interactions with Archer, she had torn the memories apart looking for signs that she had missed. Looking for ways that she could have helped, intervened, done something anything different. There was nothing she wouldn’t give up in exchange for having him back, nothing she wouldn’t have done if she had realized where he was headed. Now she was looking at her remaining brother, the warning signs flashing, and Ava had no idea what to do.

She took a hesitant step forward, settling for trying what she might have wanted had her breakdown been at the sidewalk outside work. ‘I won’t,’ she promised him. ‘Of course I won’t. Here, let’s get you inside somewhere, yeah?’

Every now and again, he would think of Ava. Just for a moment, maybe longer. He wondered whether his sister was suffocating in the same strange cloud of panic as he was, or whether she was just...dealing with it. Ever since he was a little boy, he saw Ava as so much stronger than he, so much bolder and more decisive. She never seemed to hesitate on what to do when obstacles came her way. Whilst he was the ‘why’ she was the ‘why not?’, a contrast he always found was one of the many factors that made her better than he was in so many ways. As she came closer, he settled on the assumption that she must think him mad, and he was already counting down the seconds where she would inevitably leave him and report to their father of his breakdown. 

But that was the anxiety talking. Naturally it shrouded his mind with paranoia and deception. 

Deep down he knew she cared. Aiden could see it in her face which was riddled with a level of concern that would be hard to feign. He could describe Ava as many things, but a liar? Not at all. So he took her assurance and trusted it’s authenticity, hoping that he wasn’t being naive in doing so. He knew what this looked like, and he knew that ultimately he couldn’t blame her if she did someday confide in someone about it. This wasn’t normal behaviour, especially for Aiden, who for the past eighteen years crafted an image that projected a total lack of anything mildly connected to hysteria. 

He nodded slightly at her proposal, erecting himself from the wall he had been leaning on for support and trying his best to suppress the short breaths threatening to erupt again. He knew from experience that the attacks usually transitioned into a surreal numbness, like he were experiencing a dissociative high, but the panic hadn’t quite subsided - not just yet. 

‘Do you, uh, should we, maybe, go back to mine? Or-or would it be better to...’ Aiden frowned a little as he trailed off. He hated how it muddled his brain. It made words warped and slippery. ‘Shit, I’m sorry, Ava,’ he managed to mumble, avoiding eye contact as he walked slowly beside her, instead fixating on the empty street ahead. One step at a time. ‘You...don’t have to be here, you know? I’ll be alright. I’m just...being ridiculous, really. Long day, not enough sleep, nothing to worry about.’ Each word appeared unnaturally. They were clearly rehearsed, but his delivery was just too clunky to be convincing.

[veliseraptor]

when you can sense a Mood incoming and feel like a farmer standing in a field looking out at the horizon as the storm approaches like “looks like it’s gonna be a bad one, boys”