sharp as a tack [open]
agustrian:
Adrian was one of the few people that enjoyed a good day of researching even if it was useless. He enjoyed a good fiction book here and there but today he had wanted to stay in bed researching before it happened. It happening to be Juliet, the spawn of satan herself. Yeah, the beloved acromantula of Elle Sinclair sat so innocently on his bed after he returned from his morning run. He didn’t say anything but grabbed some extra clothes and went to go shower. Upon returning the room, she was still there and he bolted out of his room to the library.
The library was his safe place; no fan girl trying to sniff his perfectly quaffed hair or ferrets berating him about anything he’s done in the past. He sat there with ‘The Decline of Pagan Magic in his Hand’ by Bathilda Bagshot of course and what seemed to be a fifth year girl giggling at him beside him. Just like Juliet, he looked at the girl with a smile and bolted far into the library. He finds a little corner, heaving from the fear that she chased him into this empty- wait.
The seventh year glances up, “Oh I’m sorry. I’ll just– you see.” he tries to explain with hand gestures from the area he was just at.
Talan examines the flustered boy and purses his lips, glancing at the area in which he is gesturing to. He places his book on his lap, officially giving up. He shakes his head “It’s fine I suppose. This is usually the emptiest spot in the room.” He felt an urge that went against his wiring, to engage the Ravenclaw in conversation. “What were you running from?” He asks, furrowing his eyebrows.













