▶ gasoline // halsey ( @slyxing )
Are you deranged like me? Are you strange like me?
Lighting matches just to swallow up the flame like me?
Do you call yourself a fucking hurricane like me?
Pointing fingers cause you’ll never take the blame like me?
Pallid skin and rosy cheeks hid under the comfort of the oversized wool scarf wrapped so snugly around his neck. Breaths coming out in a puff of white cloud each time he exhale into the cold air of winter. A pair of wide, dark-colored hues peek through the gap between his woolen hat and scarf, cautious not to trip on any hidden obstruction beneath the thick layer of snow that seem to form a white blanket around Hogsmeade. Wrapped tightly in his arms were a bag full of confectioneries purchased from none other than Honeydukes, the sole reason why he was so careful not to trip and fall.
It was nearing Christmas Eve, which means the students are either packing their belongings for a short break until the new year breaks or already on the carriage, excited to finally return to comforts of home and their respective families. Away from the stressful assignments and tests that seem to be identified with Hogwarts’ inner walls. If he had anyone to place a bet with right now, he would put his three boxes of Ice Mice for a completely empty and deserted Slytherin common room. Which Kyungsoo doesn’t mind having the entire dungeon for himself.
To the doe-eyed Slytherin, home was nothing but a big, empty manor located in the outskirts of England. The owners are barely home, showing only little signs of life in the house save for the house elves that keeps the whole place tidy and almost lively… almost. Which is why he’d rather stay in Hogwarts during the holidays. His parents seem to be content with his decision too, as long as his report card is filled with nothing but Os; no EEs, moreover an A. No less is expected from the sole heir to the Do family and the son to the Head Departement of Law Magical Enforcement.
For a moment life is almost perfect for Kyungsoo. Cold weather, warm clothes, a sugar quill between his lips hidden by his scarf, silence… Well, at least until he was too preoccupied by the sugary sweetness that is gracing his palate to notice a body sprawled over the road, tripping himself on a leg in the process. “What the–” his sentence that was supposed to be filled with curses and swearwords abruptly cut short as dark-colored optics took in the identity of the body sprawled in the snow.
“…Wright.” He called out to the older Slytherin, poking the unconscious body with the tip of his shoe gingerly. Oliver doesn’t seem to be conscious, because if he was then the upperclassmen would’ve jumped on his feet right now to deliver a string of curses to Kyungsoo for accidentally stepping on his leg. “Hey, get up. The last carriage to the train station is about to leave.” The fuck is he doing here, anyway? Perhaps… he is just like him? One of the few students who decided to stay in the castle instead of going home?
