It was a beautiful day out, the sun rays falling perfectly the courtyard while a soft breeze flew through the air. Seraphina had just finished her dance lessons for the day, and though she should have probably been working on school work, she decided she would work on some sketching. After all, she felt she had done a decent enough of a job in her lessons today that she could reward herself the break.
Taking an empty seat in the courtyard, Seraphina’s eyes searched for her next subject. They landed on someone sitting not to far from her, their profiled facing her. The way the sun shined an breeze slightly ruffled their hair was perfect. Quickly taking out her sketch book, she began to draw, carefully drawing the lines and watching the person before, glad they weren’t moving around too much. She let herself get lost in her drawing, her mind slowly shutting down, her senses losing their sense, until it was just her and her sketch book.
Abraxas’ legs stretched out on a half-wall bordering the courtyard, his head lolled casually against the stone wall behind his back. The sunlight was warm on his face, and he intended on soaking as much of it up as possible before the winter months set in. His plan was going well so far. He had been propped up there, motionless, for quite a while; he had skipped his last lesson, as he hadn’t felt like going. It was only dancing anyway. Useless. He’d been forced to go to enough of his parents’ balls as a child that he could probably waltz with his eyes closed. The classes were obviously intended for the peasant students whose closest experience at a proper dance was dodging law enforcement as they stole bread from the market, or some nonsense. It was almost comical, how serious some of them were taking the dancing instruction, as though it wouldn’t be painfully obvious who had learned in the last few weeks and who was born to it.
Eyes-closed, he remained in his place as other students moved through the corridor and courtyard, his mind pleasantly blank as he focused on the rich sunlight and the light breeze ruffling through his hair. After a few moments, he felt a prickling on the back of his neck. Someone was staring at him. Through half-lidded eyes, he glanced up to see a Hufflepuff girl - Bones, he recalled, the one with the prostitute mother - sketching nearby, facing him. “Enjoying the view?” he spoke in her direction, his voice neutral.