Post by Deleted on Feb 25, 2013 21:31:21 GMT -8
[/b] She squeaked, her voice far more high-pitched then she had imagined it to be. In her head, she was perfectly calm and collected, but her vocal cords seemed to be betraying the discomfort that she felt about the subject at hand. Reaching up, she placed her hand on her cheek, trying to feel if she was feverish. She certainly felt as if she was running a little hot, but that could have been the embarrassment that she was currently feeling, ”She....with Mr. Malfoy.....but he’s-”[/b] Poppy wasn’t sure what to say and immediately ran her hands through some of the stray hairs that had escaped her braid. She didn’t know what else to say, her mind in a whirlwind. She had known from the start that Raven Monroe was bad news. There was no other way to explain it. The woman had a reputation from the start - from when they were at Hogwarts together for being addicted to substance and generally self-destructive. Poppy had once determined that the woman was a pathological narcissist and that she was ultimately going to die alone and ugly.
She rolled her eyes at his comment, knowing full-well that her nightgown was slightly out of date. She was in her twenties, but seemed to dress like a woman that had already seen lines of age and sagging fat. Just the same, Madame Pomfrey bit down on her lip, trying her hardest not to outright laugh at the little joke that he was making. He had only been back in her life for a couple of minutes and already he seemed to be making the same profound effect that he had in their younger days. For a moment, Poppy contemplated leaving the light on and picking up the book about South Africa that was sitting on her bed-side table. But - upon looking at the clock that was on the opposite wall - and observing that time had indeed gotten past one-o’clock, she decided that it was far too late to attempt to do anything productive. She was about to turn off the light when she realized that Bryant was staring at her, his blue eyes seemingly holding the secrets of so many years apart. For a moment, Poppy found herself glued in that moment, held in place by the very gaze that had fallen upon her.
Realizing that she was staring with what was perhaps the most rude, dumb-founded look upon her face, Poppy coughed loudly, blushed, and shied away. She looked over at her table where her reading glasses, the book and a small cup of water sat. With another blush rushing in to her cheeks, the woman decided that it was most certainly an opportune time to turn off the lights and plunge them into a darkness in which Bryant could not see her perpetual embarrassment. She reached to her right and slowly turned down the fire on the oil lantern - she preferred to do things the muggle way in her room - until it finally extinguished itself. With that, she proceeded to lean over Bryant on the bed and do the same with the lantern that was on his side of the table. With those two lights out, Poppy managed to get back onto her side of the bed and started situating the pillows so that she would feel more at home in her own bed. It was going to be a strange experience having someone else there to share the covers. The darkness settled between them until Bryant finally started talking about what was really bothering him this evening.
Poppy wasn’t sure what to say at first about the entire situation. She could honestly offer no romantic advice since she herself had been relatively alone for the majority of her life. Just the same, the talk of Raven Monroe had her slightly ill-at-ease, ”Raven?”
The change in Bryant’s voice was distinct, despite the fact that there was no light in the room. Poppy knew the sound of his distress better than she knew anything in the world. Immediately she fumbled around in the dark, seeking out his hand and holding it tightly in hers, as some sort of source of relief, ”That’s not true.”[/b] She breathed, her voice cracking slightly at the end, ”For the longest time, I -”[/b] She had wanted him; she had been in love with him from the day that she had met him and she was still head over heels for the man that was now curled up in her bed...Poppy loved Bryant - just as she always had and just like she always would. She bit down on her lip, knowing full well that Bryant would probably go right back to Raven Monroe after the night was over. She was beautiful, stunning, put-together and sensual...and Poppy? Well Poppy Pomfrey looked like she had just stepped off a train to middle-aged-ville. She was course and strict, and reserved...the pair were nothing alike. He began sobbing and she put his hand close to her heart, silently pressing her lips into his fingertips, trying her best to console him from the despair that he was currently falling into.
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