Late For Work (Open)

They hadn’t kept her up last night - the dreams. For the first time in months, Hestia Jones’ mind was silent at night. There were no visions of blood and bodies, no masks or murder that haunted her every breath. Instead, it was deathly quite within her mind. At least until she felt it creeping up on her, the green light like a lightening bolt beneath her closed eye-lids. A jolt shot though her body, waking her, “No!” Looking down, she realized that she was clenching her hand into a fist, her nails digging into the palm of her hand, a small pool of blood visible underneath her nails, “Oh god-” The blonde breathed as she let her hand relax and shook it out, trying to stop the mild bleeding without waking the rest of her sleeping house-mates.

Without thinking, she reached over and grabbed for her journal which was under a pile of rarely-looked-at classwork and books. The blood that was on her palm smeared across the binding of one of her favorites - a tribute to modern artists and their works that had been a gift from her mother a few years back. The sun was just beginning to peak into the tower, illuminating the dark, almost black blood that stained her volume. Panic seized Tia almost immediately as she cradled the book in her fingertips. It was ruined. Even a cleaning spell wouldn’t be able to dispel her blood from the white binding and save her favorite book. Tears instantly welled to the young blonde’s eyes.

What was there to cry about? Most would reason it was a book...it was replaceable. But it was so much more than that to young Tia. It was a beacon of normalcy and hope when everything else seemed so chaotic and unpredictable. T put her hand over her mouth, stifling the cry that threatened to escape at the hands of her horrible mistake.

She had to get up. She had to get another one. A new book to replace the old. Something else for her to hold onto. Something else to make her forget the war that was coming. Hes drew the covers back, ignoring her palm and threw on the clothes that were laid out on her trunk. Wrapping herself in a cloak, she tucked the book under her arm and headed out, determined to get to Hogsmeade and right her wrong before it settled any more in her already unsettled bones.

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She stood in front of the store, her hands upon the window as she peered into the dark and dusty book-store. It seemed as if no one was there yet...odd considering Hestia had visited many a times during her Hogwarts career at an early time. A sudden whoosh of air passed around Hestia and it took her a few moments to realize that it had been a person causing the uproar of wind whipping around her body as they approached the door to the store, “OYE!” The Ravenclaw Seer spun and adopted a new position, leaning against the awning-covered entrance as she cocked her head to the side, “Why’re you in such a rush, huh, tough guy? I was here first...I mean, I don’t think they’re even here yet, I knocked on the door and tried the handle. I’m not entirely skilled with lock-picking but if you want to go ahead and try it, I’m absolutely certain that I wouldn’t say anything to the owners, or authorities for that matter, I just managed to ruin one of my favorite books and I thought if I ran down here I could find another one...I’m always-” It was then that she realized that he was the employee, “Oh-” She felt a blush rising to her cheeks, confident that she looked just as surprised to see him as he was to see her.

He opened the door and Tia slipped inside behind him, hanging out near the edges of the store. Her palm gave a twinge ever so slightly as she realized that she was pressing her nails into the wounds again, “Oh. Merlin that’s terribly embarrassing...I just...you must be new.” She breathed, more to herself than anyone else. She was surrounded by books. Sometimes, she forgot what it was like to be in a place of such literary euphoria, “Oh wow.” Her fingertips ran across the bindings of the first shelf, her brown eyes drinking in each of the titles. Suddenly the blood smeared book in her bag seemed of little consequence. What was one book compared to hundreds? Maybe even thousands?

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TAG; KEAGAN CARLISLE PRICE

NOTES; hope this is okay! let me know if you need anythin’ changed!

A smile slowly spread across Tia’s face, suddenly pushing away the negative thoughts that she had had a few minutes before she came in the shop. It was an excellent quote, delivered with a particular reverence that held Tia’s normally divided and flitting attention. Listening to someone else speak the literary language seemed to awaken a softer part of her that she had been missing for a few months. She was able to forget the dreams that plagued her and focus on the general vehemence of the words that fell from his mouth, “Austen.” She answered his quote wholeheartedly, not being able to hide the ever-growing grin, despite the fact that she had placed her fingers over her mouth.

He wasn’t what she had expected - the normal shop-owners seemed to be so bookish that they lacked personality. Maybe it was just a temporary job that occupied him until he could find other work...but she couldn’t imagine that he had such a knack for such quotes if he didn’t care about them at all, “Would you consider yourself a Miss Bingley, then? How peculiar you are. Or perhaps more of a Mr. Darcy?” The petite blonde inquired, biting down on her finger to hide the complete smile that had spilled onto her lips.

He stood at the end of the shelving unit, staring down the aisle at her. She could tell from her peripheral vision where he was looking, but she was having a hard time tearing herself from the book shelves. Milton, Austen, Shakespeare, Shelley. Muggle classics mixed amongst the typical Wizarding literature, “Jones-” She pressed her fingers onto the binding of a hard copy edition Much Ado About Nothing that looked like it had seen a lot of love. She put it into the nook of her arm as she pulled another from the shelves, Frankenstein, “Ms. Hestia. Jones Hestia.” Hestia tore her eyes momentarily from the books and looked at him, then she realized she had said her name backwards. Absentmindedly, her hands grabbed another book to add to her pile , “Hestia Jones. Jones is my last name. Hestia is my first. Not that it actually matters, you could really call me anything, I guess and-”

Tia cut herself off with a curt cough, reminding herself why she was even in Hogsmeade in the first place. Reaching into her bag with the hand that wasn’t occupied with her ever-growing pile of books, she felt the familiar ripped binding of the Modern Art book. Tia pulled it out and balanced it on her hand, “Theories of Modern Art. It’s sentimental-” She prefaced before blushing ever so slightly. Managing to turn the book around in her hands, she tried to show him the stains, “I-” Merlin, how was she supposed to explain this one? It literally looked as if someone had been slaughtered over the book, “I’m looking for a replacement, you see. It had a bit of an accident and...Like I said, sentimental.”

She tore her eyes away from the book, fearing that if she looked at it for too long it would drudge up awful memories that she had tried to hide underneath her bubbly smile. No, she wouldn’t let her visions bog her down right now, “I’m sorry, how incredibly rude of me, acting as if you don’t have a name.” Hestia put her own book on top of the others and offered him a wave, “I’m Jo-Hestia. And you are Mr.-?”

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TAG; KEAGAN CARLISLE PRICE

NOTES; UGH <3

“Don’t you think that Knightley had poorly placed affections? He married his cousin, after all,” Tia answered, watching him as he walked toward her, his hands winding within one another every step that he took, “Lizzie Bennet.” She answered an unspoken question, her eyes lighting up with the delight she took in discussing literature. She had always seen herself as the heroine of her favorite Austen novel, Pride and Prejudice, “I dearly love to laugh, especially at myself.” She winked ever so, but it was lost as he pulled a book from the shelf and spun it round on his finger. Manipulus Florum. Hestia couldn’t say that she had read that one.

As he turned to grab the ladder, she quickly took Manipulus and put it onto her ever-growing stack of books that was now at least ten high. Any more and she was going to drop them. But she couldn’t seem to give any of them up. Looking down the list of titles, she smiled ever so slightly to herself. Books were her lifeblood. They were enchantment and escape. For a girl that saw the future of war so lucidly in her dreams, sometimes it was easier for her to pretend like she was a fantasy character. It made her feel incredibly brave, and often times incredibly foolish. Fortunately for Tia, today was not an incredibly foolish kind of morning.

It was then that she realized he was complimenting her name. Immediately she felt her face grow hot with the blaze of a blush, “It’s Greek!” She blurted and then drew her eyes back to the lines of bindings so she could pretend she was utterly absorbed and not entirely embarrassed that he had spoken a kind word about her etymology, “Goddess of fire, the home, domesticity, family...Not that I believe in much of that any way, women are a lot more than just a pretty home and a well-kept hearth.” She commented as she picked up yet another book. Her hands were growing uneven and, as she fumbled around for another book, she lost control of it, sending them all onto the floor, “Sorry-” A breathless laugh escaped her lips as she bent down, stacking them in tiny stacks of three or four, “I go mostly by Tia. People usually only tack on Hes when they’re cross with me.”

“Which is actually a lot more than you might think and-” She looked up from the floor and watched him climb to the top of the ladder, looking for her book. There was a sort of unspoken thankfulness that she felt toward him in that moment - most people would have told her to get over it, but this boy seemed to understand. There was more to books than just words on a page - they were liable to change you and Modern Art had changed her more than anything in the world, “Nice to meet you.” She managed, cheeks still burning as she looked down and continued stacking the books.

Eventually, she plopped down completely on the floor and opened Mansfield Park; how fitting she should be reading about Fanny Price, the possible fictional relative of her adorably bookish book-salesman. To the onlooker - it would have appeared as if the blonde had gone mad, sitting cross-legged surrounded by small little towers of books all around her, but to Hestia, it was just her way of life. She had always done things a little...differently. Her bright eyes skimmed the page as she began to read the preface.

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TAG; KEAGAN CARLISLE PRICE

NOTES; --

“Small family, then?” She inquired. She continued to re-stack the books on the floor, she heard him ask if she was alright. Her cheeks burned pink as she looked up, expecting to see a look of distaste on his face. After all, people weren’t often too pleased when customers threw their merchandise on the ground. But, as she met his eyes as he stood upon the ladder, there seemed to be no anger. No, it nearly appeared as if he was trying to understand exactly what she had been doing by throwing the books to the ground, “Oh Merlin, I’m fine.” She said, laughing nervously as she ran a hand through her short blonde hair, “Fine, fine, fine. I just-“ Sucking in a breath, she broke their eye-contact and turned her burning cheeks away from him, “Slipped.”

“Pleasure is mine too, I s’pose.” Tia said absentmindedly as she stared down at the ruined white cover of her book. How could she have been so stupid as to leave it next to her bed? She had been having those dreams for months now and they always ended the same way - she dug her nails in too keep or ended up slamming her hand into the bed frame or something else. It seemed that pain was often the only thing that would wake her. She barely heard Keagan when he first said something to her and it wasn’t until the word ‘dreaming’ escaped his lips that she realized he was most certainly talking to her.

“Dreaming?” Hestia’s voice cracked at the very end of her sentence as she sucked in a breath, “Who said anything about dreaming?” Her heart was pounding in her chest. Maybe he was like her - maybe he saw things that weren’t necessarily obvious to the normal every day witch or wizard. Very slowly, she raised her brown eyes to meet his, expecting to see some sign that he was trying to give her. But he was smiling down at her, as if he had some sort of secret that he was keeping locked up in those beautiful eyes of his. Tia turned her head slightly to the side as she watched him, “How could you possibly know that I was dreaming about something?” She wanted to press her lips into a thin line, but his smile seemed infectious and she found herself grinning ever so slightly, although she did her best to hide it by pulling Mansfield Park to her mouth in order to cover it.

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TAG; KEAGAN CARLISLE PRICE

NOTES; sorry this took so long!