“There’s this thing called personal space,” Odessa started, looking up at them. “What it means is that you leave at least five foot between you and other people. So, if I’m correct, you’re about three feet too close.”
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“There’s this thing called personal space,” Odessa started, looking up at them. “What it means is that you leave at least five foot between you and other people. So, if I’m correct, you’re about three feet too close.”
semi-closed starter | only close connections reply (i mean it)
It was the first time he had left Harry since sitting beside him. He had been waiting outside the room. “She’s gone.” He said, as he spotted them. It was the first time he had said those words and they made him feel so empty. “She’s gone.” He repeated, quieter this time and the tears he had been managing to hold back for some time, as he waited for his friend to arrive finally broke through once again. When he was finally able to think, he had managed to send a message out via his patronus asking them to come to the hospital. He couldn’t leave. Not with his son here. But, just staying in the same building he knew his wife was lying dead within was enough to make him go crazy. His hand, still stained with his wife's blood, brushed through his hair. “And I can’t -- I don’t know how...who...” He could barely get his words out -- he didn’t really know what he was trying to say. “And Harry -- he...” As if they knew who Harry was.
“That’s it, you’ve got it. See that wasn’t so hard now, was it?” She smiled softly at the youngster as she finished helping with their homework. Reagan wasn’t sure why she was suddenly getting distracted by the stranger but it made a nice change to act as if there wasn’t a war going on. Hearing the clearing of a throat caused her to look up a little startled.
“Where is it, where is it, where is it?” Lucy muttered under her breath as she carried on searching through her things. “I swear if he has found them I’m gonna kill him.”
“I’ve been wearing it all morning.” Jean informed them, referring to the flower crown on his head. “The little girl begged me to take it, with those puppy eyes.” He continued to explain the situation, French accent gently lacing his words. “I think I’ll have to wear it forever now.” The realisation dawned on him, his facial features exhibiting such.
Spencer was slumped against the bar, it wasn’t often he drank alcohol but the male had been so down recently that he decided that one drink wouldn’t hurt. The problem was that one drink had turned to one more, and then another one and another one, and before he knew it he had numerous of empty glass lined in front of him. Picking up another glass he downed the drink before wincing at the burn in his throat. “mmmm, no, noooo, nope.” He slurred shaking his head. “I’m not finished yet.” He stated holding his finger up before picking up another drink accidentally sloshing the drink in his drunken stupor.
“I should have expected it to be too good to be true.” The female huffed, glaring at the guard who held her captive. All she had wanted was freedom, not to be back where she had begun.
Sophie pulled her hand back and looked at the blue paint now staining it. She span around as she heard some clear their throat. Hiding her hand behind her back she smiled sheepishly. “Heeey.”