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@jackshafiq-blog
[makes a little progress getting it to move towards the front of the fireplace, but the second it sets foot outside the hearth, it shoots up flames, scorching Xenoās hand]Ā Well that isnāt going to work.
[shoots water at the spot and then moves closer to Xeno] Do you want me to heal that for you? I'm good at that. [He shudders a little at the sight,Ā recallingĀ hisĀ run in with Amycus]
What do you mean you turned in my transfigured goblet? This is not a goblet! What were you thinking?
Honestly I have no idea what is happening right now. Can you repeat your problem?
One chart, coming up. [holds it out to him] And maybe a map to get you out of that head.
Thanks. [shrugs] I'll find my way out eventually. What's got you in such a shipper mood?
No, theĀ otherĀ person staring me down waiting for me to finish up with this star chart. Or justā¦staring me down, if you donāt need it. Either way, you can take a break to blink.
Lost in my own head for a bit there but I do need the chart. Thanks.Ā
No, itās okay. You can use it. Iām done.
Were you talking to me?
May I? || Jack & Flower
She is so angry that he bases his whole world on her. Watching her, seeing her, listening to her, speaking to her, holding her, touching her, loving her. She has to care for him by default, she has no choice in the matter. She does care for so many aspects of him of her own accord. Itās the smallest of things, the things she canāt quite put her finger on, the feelings, the unfurlings deep in her stomach, the calm of sleeping with every inch of herself touching every inch of him- all of that is why she canāt walk away without a look back but itās so bittersweet.
She thinks, as a background to every other thought, that it wont be enough. Sheās not worried about him anymore, sheās worried about her. How can he say that word so flippantly? Like she really is the only thing he loves? No, he loves to run, he loves to play quidditch, he loves to sleep with her, he loves to understand a concept in a class or finish an essay at the end of a long day. There are so many feelings, so many happenings that should bring him fulfilling joy. But instead heās chosen poison to claim as the fuel to his fire.Ā
And the poison, she hates him.Ā
She hates even more that she feels the need to stay rooted where she is. To be in his presence a second longer. She canāt walk away from him, not easily anyway. She wants it to be easy, but itās those damn little things that stick her in place like glue. She slumps her shoulders and starts to cry. She knows Jack doesnāt like it, but once the tears start Florence canāt contain them. Her whole, small body begins to shake with her wracking sniffles and gasps for breath. She raises her hands, as fists, to her eyes and rubs them like a little girl would. She has no retaliation in this moment. All she thinks is that she canāt be with him, but more so, she canāt be without him.
He doesn't know what has her crying or really how to respond to her tears. These are the worst moments. Moments when he's useless and unsure. Jack is used to knowing and certainty. But he doesn't mind. He just wants to fix whatever is making her cry. He speaks gently, trying to coax her into his arms so he can hold her together.Ā
"There, there, lovely. Cry it all out. Just cry."Ā He tries to imbue his words with care and affection. He wants her to know that no matter what he is going to stay here with her. Until she is well.Ā "You aren't alone. You are safe. You can cry. Do you...do you want me to hold you?"Ā
He doesn't say he loves her and he doesn't touch her without permission. Jack may not be many things but he does learn. So far her has learn that this mighty force of nature does not respond well to words like love or unasked for touch. He can't help himself sometimes and the words fall from his lips and his hands touch her but he doesn't want to pressure her.Ā
She confuses him. She looks at him with such hatred and yet he remains near because when he is not near her he has seen her look at him with...longing. And he hates it. He hates being far from her and for causing her hurt. Maybe...maybe it would be better to leave her forever. But she is sunlight and he doesn't wish to live in darkness.Ā But he does desire to live and he is afraid is he stays he will not live but merely pretend to exist. So he remains confused.
"Or I can go but I don't like the idea of leaving you here to cry. You are brave and strong, Florence, you don't need me. But I am here if you want me."
I appreciate that, and I may take you up on it yet.Ā [considers his offer for a moment longer]Ā I was going to try and coax him out of the fireplace, so if you want to be on guard for fires, I wouldnāt complain.
I wouldn't mind that in the least. [Comes closer, wand drawn] I'll be ready to put out any fires we may set.
May I? || Jack & Flower
She withdraws her hands, though they were the only thing keeping her hostility at bay. She doesnāt like these words. She shakes her head as he speaks, grimacing when he says that word again. āYou canāt hurt people." She says it sternly, before heās even finished. Heās too calm, too collected. Like hurting another person, being hurt, being maimed had no effect on him. It ruined her. It broke her. She feels the torture every second of every day she can never suppress it fully. She canāt escape the feel of melting skin or the drag of Amycusā burning wand. She feels the pain constantly and Jack had no inhibition about preforming the same act.Ā
āJust donāt- you just canāt." She continues to shake her head. "I canāt be with you now or ever if you hurt people. It might not be the exact same, you werenāt doing it for pleasure and you werenāt doing it for fun, but you did it. And you shouldnāt be able to." She is watching him with a look of disgust, her fingers have resumed their trembling and sheās sure her lips are too. "Itās not defense. He stopped, thatās why I survived. I- I shouldnāt have survived. He should have killed me. But for whatever reason, boredom, begging, maybe, I donāt know. He decided that he would hand me shards of my life and send me on my way. And you tortured him, too. You canāt hurt people, because thatās all I feel and now, itās all I see and itās everywhere.ā
She palms at her eyes and resolves to whimper in a tiny voice. āIt wasnāt for us it was for you because I didnāt want it. If he means to kill me, heāll kill me. You canāt stop every bad thing thatāll happen to me, because not all of it can be solved with a punch. If all you can offer me is a barricade thatās not enough. Iām sorry, I canāt do it. I canāt handle the messes you leave, I need serenity not more destruction.ā
Her words tear at him and Jack feels more raw then he's ever felt. He can't conceive what would make her say the things she says. What damage does she sustain...what wounds refuse to heal that she can be how she is. He loves her. It's the truth. He loves her fierce tone, her set ideas, her curiosity, her belief that all things, all people are good and should act good.
But he hears in her words a self loathing that bewilders him. She doesn't care if she dies. She thinks it's her fault. And she thinks he is violent and turbulent...but it's not him causing the storm. He fears for her and what she is doing to herself.Ā
When he speaks his voice is tender.Ā "Flower...please don't give him reasons. Amycus isĀ psychologicallyĀ unstable. He would not have killed you...he knowsĀ he causes more damage by you living. He did you no favors. Your life is not a gift from him. YouĀ survivedĀ this not because he wasĀ merciful but because he is cruel. And you don't have to let him have this hold over you."Ā He doesn't know how to get her to see, to understand that she is braver, stronger than all this. "I'm not here to just to protect you. I'm here to remind you that you are strong enough to protect yourself. But, Florence, I am my own person, with my own will and choices to make. I make them according to my conscience not your rules. I did want I saw was just. If you...if you can't like me because I am who I am...then I'm not going to keep you here. But I'm also not going to stop loving you."
He pauses and turns an idea over and over in his mind. When he speaks his voice is firm and unyielding...less like lover and more like an adviser.Ā "You wereĀ afraidĀ that if I died it would be your fault. I amĀ afraidĀ thatĀ you will die. No qualifiers. If you die I will mourn you with all of my being because I have no one else I love in this world. But I know you are your own person. I will do everything possible to keep you safe but if you continue to have absolutely no regard for your own life then I can't save you. It will kill me...but I can't save you from yourself."
He wants to cry, to sob his eyes out. The thought of losing her is like the thought of living without sun but he knows she is her own just as he is his and he would not have it any other way.Ā
May I? || Jack & Flower
She is quiet. That doesnāt mean her brain is too. She canāt dwell on her own words, though she wants to hear them again, know exactly what it was sheād said, because she doesnāt believe all of it was coherent. Sheād said it all too emotionally, she remembers bits and pieces but some of it hadnāt been her speaking. Thatās stupid, of course it had. Florence is confusing herself. She canāt even process their surroundings, canāt process anything about this boy in front of her. Florence is just a body, lifeless in his waves. Sheās being tossed against the rocks of a stormy shore over and over again. She can feel her bones breaking and she can feel the water pulling her in every direction, pushing and shoving her over like sheās absolutely nothing. The world stops when he speaks.Ā
She doesnāt know the answer.Ā
Everythingās quiet when she pushes her thoughts out of the way to clearly think specific strands. Her brain is a muddled mess, but she has the ability to clear it all to white space to think through what sheās about to say. Itās a loaded question heās prompted her with. She thinks about it, allowing herself to briefly look at his face. She wants to heal the puffed skin heās haphazardly tried to. She wants to fix the scabs and the scrapes and every bruise and dent and dip. He seems to be more focused on what sheās thinking than any pain he must be feeling.Ā
Florence doesnāt like this. She looks at her hands over his chest. Itās easier to see her permanently dirty fingernails, her worn, cracked knuckles. She likes that one of the balls of her wrists, the left one, is bigger than the right one from a break that never quite healed. She moves her fingertips in the tiniest manner and feelās Jackās even breathing beneath her hands. āWhyād you do it if it wasnāt for me? What could you gain from endangering yourself?ā
Jack sighs but still fights the impulse to touch her. It's causing him more pain then any of his injuries. He wants to tuck a stray hair behind her ear and to rub his thumb along her jaw. He wants to play with her fingers and wrap her in his arms. But he is unsure. And he hates it. Her question settles on the air between them and his reply is smooth. It's not emotionless. It's that the emotions have already been processed and sorted and understood. It had been even before he had acted. He'd not been rash. He's be calculated.Ā
"I did it because it was the right thing to do. When you care about someone, you defend them. I love you, Florence Quinn. I didn't do it to be violent or to get revenge. I did it because people shouldn't think they can torture another person without consiquences. I did it...for us. Not for you. Not for me. But for us."Ā
Once the words start he can't stop them and slowly his voice grows stronger. His eyes are bright in the dimmed hall, glistening like wet stones that have been hit by sunlight.Ā "If we're going toĀ surviveĀ untilĀ graduation.Ā And mind you, I mean for us to survive no matter the cost, they need to know that we are defend each other."
He doesn't think she's going to understand what he's saying but he prays to his God that she will and if she doesn't that she'll accept his actions as a fact of life. He doesn't plan on changing himself to fit her idea of the perfect partner. If he's going to love her and win her love it's going to be him, as he is.Ā
May I? || Jack & Flower
Florence averts her eyes and closes them. She takes a deep breath. Seething anger is exhausting to her, it really shouldnāt have been her first reaction. She tries to bury it, but it takes a lot more than a few seconds to suppress her emotions nowadays. Sheās so confused and twisted in light of recent events that all she feels is the darkness. Does she even care for Jack anymore? How could he do such a thing? How could be be no better than Amycus? It doesnāt make any sense to her. Imagining the soft hands she loves to feel on her skin as balled up fists makes her nauseous. Imagining his smiling face being struck by her tormentors hand makes her want to gag. She takes even breaths to fight these images, opening her eyes one at a time, she focuses her gaze on the thin line of stone floor that separates her leg from Jackās.Ā
Her response to his words is immediate, āIām thinking that it upsets me that you put yourself in danger for me.ā She pauses before she continues, while she speaks she moves her gaze back to meet his, her eyes are forceful to match her tone of voice, āIām thinking that I didnāt ask for you help. And that further, I asked for the opposite from you. Iām thinking that without prompt, or with an anti prompt, you should have been clued in that it would be undesirable for you to take action. Iām thinking you acted irrationally. Iām thinking you acted recklessly. Iām thinking you acted with blatant disregard for you own life and Iām thinking that-ā her voice catches now. She takes in a short breath through her nose and looks down again. She raises her hands before her and after another pause, rests them on his chest. She can feel his heartbeat, and she can feel her fingers shaking and she can feel the lump in her throat rise and dip as she fights a sob. Finally, in as even a voice as she can manage, she says, āIām thinking that if you had died and it had been my fault I canāt imagine what would have become of me.ā
He doesn't touch her. He doesn't look away. He doesn't speak. He just listens. Every part of him listens and watches and waits. Jack can't bring himself to speak because he needs to process what she's saying. It;s curious to him how much he cares about this one person. He cares about her hopes and dreams and desires. Jack could live off her attention, the feel of her hand in his, the taste of her lips. She is, quite simply, the only person in his life who matters. But her words tear at him a little and Jack finds himself recalling a quote from a muggle author he'd read over the summer.Ā
"I would die for you but I couldn't, and wouldn't, live for you."Ā
The quote sticks in his mind and in his throat as he tries to reply. Yes, her hands are on his chest, but he still doesn't touch her. Instead he sighs and speaks quietly. "Thank you for sharing your thoughts."Ā He isn't sure what else to say. He's brow is furrowed and his voice feels thick. She is wrong. So deeply wrong. She didn't have that kind of control over his actions. No one did. If he died, which there was never a risk of, it would not be her fault. His heart is steady and his thoughts are clear. She might be the only thing he loved but she was not the master of his actions.Ā
'You belong to her.' Amycus had stated. But this was not true. He didn't belong to her anymore than she belonged to him. Maybe one day they would be able to give themselves to the other one and belong together but for now Jack was acutely aware that they were 17...and far from grown up.Ā
He looked at her and allowed these thoughts to settle. What he needed to do now was comfort her. But his modus operandi was to touch...and yet she'd flinched away ever time previous. So instead he asked. "What do you need me to say? How can I makeĀ assuageĀ your fears??"
[looks down and considers his bundle of supplies]Ā I think Iām doing all right. Granted, the room wasnāt in flames when I left and I canāt say that as confidently right now, so Iāll go with a solid maybe.
I can understand that attitude. I mean you definitely know more about Salamanders than I do but I can at least watch it in case you have to leave again.Ā
May I? || Jack & Flower
She slaps him once without hesitation. Itās harsh and her hand stings afterwards. She didnāt enjoy it, but she does enjoy the silence it settles upon him. Florence sits back and puts her hands on the tops of her thighs. Sheās glad he isnāt touching her, or she might scream at him. Everything sheās worked on suppressing for the last few weeks is boiling again. She feels at this moment as if someone is blaring into her ear with a megaphone, telling her that he has disobeyed her most deliberate instructions. She asked him not to interfere, maybe she didnāt beg, but if heās so high and mighty to assume that he knows her better than anyone in this castle, why on Earth, below Heaven and above Hell canāt Jackson Shafiq grasp her simple request: donāt avenge with violence to gain affection.Ā
It shouldnāt be so hard for him. But, his violent gene is disastrous and has never caught Florenceās eye in a good way. It gets him so deeply in trouble, that she was correct in predicting his future only days before: if he took action it would cause more upheaval than there already was. Maybe in his own mind, beating Amycus to a pulp was justifiable, but to Florence, it was looking at a win-win outcome and turning on his heel to choose lose-lose.Ā
She looks at him now with measurable disgust. Sheās done feeling like she has to hide from him. Sheās out in the open. Sheās staring at him and if a look could kill, this would be it. She emits no emotion that isnāt rage. He is the scapegoat, how he will escape her wrath, Florence is not sure but itās not her thought to think. Sheās thinking that she hates him. He blatantly has shown her that she is weak and that her wants are lesser than his needs. She hadnāt allowed herself so much time to look at him since the library, which would be the reason that she is feeling all of these feelings in this moment. She missed the idea of her loving Jack, but the possessive, controlling, violent Jack sits before her. And she despises every cell that makes this version of him up.
The slap takes him by surprise. He sits there, quiet. He can see and feel the waves of hatred flow from her. That does not surprise him. He just doesn't know what to do or say. He's unsure of why she is so angry. And why so angry with him. She seems almost in shock that he was true to his word. He'd made his intentions clear and he didn't need her permission to act the way he acted.
He looks away from her and considers getting up and leaving. But he knows that leaving would cause irreparable damage in their lives. He just couldn't figure how to accept this version of Florence Quinn. This bitter, angry side that demanded he by passive and pacifist. He was indifferent to so much. Did she like him that way? Uncaring?
He brings his eyes back to hers and sighs. "Talk Flower...I need to know what you're thinking. I want to hear your voice. Please talk."
[bursts out of the Ravenclaw common room, more than a little charred and immediately sets on his way to get a few supplies to remove the fireĀ salamanderĀ currently residing, and hopefully content to stay until he returns, in their fireplace]Ā I should have been prepared for this.
[Jack comes down the stairs and into the common room. Books in his arms and sees what Xeno is up to and he laughs.] Do you want help?
I know...I'm kind of bored too...
"Oh I will, Shafiq!" Amycus called after him before going to work undoing the curse and healing is wounds.
"Jog on, mate."
May I? || Jack & Flower
Watching him carefully is much different than pretending wholeheartedly not to see him in the hallway as she passes. Now that sheās looking at him, straight on, she canāt look at his eyes. Not when thereās so much else to see. Heās clearly uncomfortable, but she thinks itās not mental. He seems comfortable to be with her, she can feel that heās pleased that she hasnāt outright stood up and left yet, but heās in pain. At least thatās what it seems. Heās clenching his jaw. Which he doesnāt do. And heās supporting himself on his hands, which is also odd. As she takes in these features, she feels her eyebrows crease in concern. Should she be worried about him? Itās odd, to allow herself to feel for someone else. Sheād convinced herself that ever doing that again would be as horrible as sinning. It takes up so much of her energy, how can it possibly be worth it? Looking at Jack now, though, it does seem worth it.Ā
She canāt help herself.
She sits up on her knees and crawls between his legs. Sitting in front of him, she takes his face in her hands and rips it close to her. She roughly rocks his head from side to side, testing the mobility and when she stills him she holds him in place with one hand while using the other to poke and prod at his puffy, badly healed skin. Itās not golden brown, itās undertoned in greens and purples that illuminate his tired eyes and shadowed cheeks. Clearly angry, she releases him, her voice daring him to lie to her when she prompts, āquidditch accident?ā
He laughs a little then. He knows sheās furious with him but he can see she is feeling something and that is more than he has seen in the past days. Sheās been a zombie, a shadow of herself. But here was Flower. That force of nature he couldnāt seem to get enough of. Her touch feels good even as he winces at her forcing him to expose all his wounds. āOuch! Careful, woman. And no...of course not. You know how I got all these. But you should see the other bloke.ā
He sighs and doesnāt touch her as much as he wants to. āNo, actually you shouldnāt go see him. Thatās a dumb idea. You should stay here with me.ā He settles back and just looks at her some more. She is beautiful and sheās distressed and he wants to hold her until she doesnāt feel pain anymore. He lays his arms, palms up, on his lap. Itās a gesture of openness. She can do as she wishes with him. All he wants is to be here for her. So she can rage and yell and get mad but he is content. Heās made the bastard pay and heās made it even more clear that he did not stand with those dumb purists and their bigotry. Jack Shafiq was his own man and did as he please. No thanks to anyone.
What? I said Iād cover for you. I technically owe you one. So go about doing whatever you have to do and Iāll finish up your rounds.
Thanks Lucius.
