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**Jesus Rodriguez** · 06-05-2017, 09:11 PM

SPOILER!!: Valerie.

Quote:

Originally Posted by Valerie Gray

There it was. That look would be his downfall as much as her own. She was fairly confident he knew that considering the lack of effort being displayed at hiding just how pleased he was with himself. She loathed how often she found it endearing. Like right now. She needed to figure a means of knocking it off his face but the majority of thought processes ceased with his words. Pupils dilating and lips parting slightly on a silent inhale, her composure was momentarily lost again in his presence and she was not a fan in the least. "A babysitter. How quaint." The sarcasm was undeniable. "You are putting far too much weight into the simple inquiry of pie filling," she mused, feeling as though perhaps she had just tipped the scales back in her favor again. Although her next move, the subtle tug on one of his curls, would likely tip them right back.

She had the mind for it, but never the patience for chess. Every interaction with Jesus reminded her of this.

Settling them back into a stead rhythm with the music it was she who missed a beat. It was purely instinctual (the swift lifting of the knee) and if it were not for her dress (the very one eliciting the reaction to begin with) getting tangled up in her legs she would have successfully executed her retaliation. But as it were, she merely stumbled into him and had no other choice but to hold on to him for balance. "Someone must have spilled something on the floor," she muttered quickly as she looked elsewhere to ignore the rising heat in her face. Not that there was much else that held her attention elsewhere. A few loud students and some other fleeting looks in her and Jesus' direction, but nothing captivating enough to prevent her from pulling her eyes back to him.

"Fine. I am," she admitted reluctantly with an indifferent crane of the neck. "I'd likely never get to experience something as lavish as this where it not for this tournament," she added defensively. He would understand. It was why she would do whatever it took for that scholarship money. Despite the inner turmoil she felt with her moral compass every time she thought about the first task and the implications therein.

A nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that he was treading into dangerous waters, and if he didn't wake up soon, he would drown. Knowing this, Jesús found himself splashing about (in a metaphorical sense, of course,) drowning in a river that was tactfully placed, created, and managed by Valerie. Her words (voice, really) helped him stay afloat; and for that, he was grateful. "The best babysitter, I might add. Plus," he leaned forward, and whispered conspiratorially, "it's not really babysitting if you're having fun in the process, is it?" He pulled away by just a bit, and resumed his role as the tentative, yet eager, pupil while she continued to be his teacher. For the dance, of course.

"That's because...nothing is just simple with you." Jesús shot her a knowing look as he followed her lead. He didn't really need (or want, for that matter) her to try and one up him, not around all of these people (and especially not around their classmates and peers.)

The music wasn't his style, but he sort of liked it now for reasons that he couldn't explain, and he barely had time to process what was happening right in front of him. Valerie didn't trip or fall or miss steps (not in front of him, at least,) so his surprise was genuine when she stumbled and held onto him. Instinctually, the sixth year wound up holding her a little closer than he would have normally. It took him approximately thirty seconds to realize what he was doing before he took a step back. And, no, him clearing his throat was not a ploy to detract from what had happened just seconds before. Like Valerie, Jesús also found himself looking elsewhere; he didn't actually know where to settle his eyes, but he told himself that as long as his shame (read: his flushed cheeks and ears) continued to be painfully apparent, he would find a way to conquer it.

Just as easily as it was for him to look away, he was able to quickly turn his attention back towards her (which, he concluded, was the fault of Valerie and her voice.) There was no need for him to add to her comment, because he understood and empathized completely. Jesús also would have never attended anything as formal or as lavish as this in his life had it not been for the tournament. He thought about making a joke, something about them being kindred spirits, but thought better of it. No need to open that can of worms tonight. "It does seem like they have a very flamboyant way of celebrating," he mused. Flamboyant being an understatement. The tournament was just a means for him to infiltrate and destroy from within; he didn't actually want to win (he wanted to get very close, though,) and was silently supporting someone else in the hopes that they came out as the winner instead of him.

06-05-2017, 09:11 PM	#94 (permalink)
Jesus Rodriguez Thunderbird Puffskein Join Date: May 2017 Posts: 1,079 Hogwarts RPG Name: Jesús Rodríguez Sixth Year	SPOILER!!: Valerie. Quote: Originally Posted by Valerie Gray There it was. That look would be his downfall as much as her own. She was fairly confident he knew that considering the lack of effort being displayed at hiding just how pleased he was with himself. She loathed how often she found it endearing. Like right now. She needed to figure a means of knocking it off his face but the majority of thought processes ceased with his words. Pupils dilating and lips parting slightly on a silent inhale, her composure was momentarily lost again in his presence and she was not a fan in the least. "A babysitter. How quaint." The sarcasm was undeniable. "You are putting far too much weight into the simple inquiry of pie filling," she mused, feeling as though perhaps she had just tipped the scales back in her favor again. Although her next move, the subtle tug on one of his curls, would likely tip them right back. She had the mind for it, but never the patience for chess. Every interaction with Jesus reminded her of this. Settling them back into a stead rhythm with the music it was she who missed a beat. It was purely instinctual (the swift lifting of the knee) and if it were not for her dress (the very one eliciting the reaction to begin with) getting tangled up in her legs she would have successfully executed her retaliation. But as it were, she merely stumbled into him and had no other choice but to hold on to him for balance. "Someone must have spilled something on the floor," she muttered quickly as she looked elsewhere to ignore the rising heat in her face. Not that there was much else that held her attention elsewhere. A few loud students and some other fleeting looks in her and Jesus' direction, but nothing captivating enough to prevent her from pulling her eyes back to him. "Fine. I am," she admitted reluctantly with an indifferent crane of the neck. "I'd likely never get to experience something as lavish as this where it not for this tournament," she added defensively. He would understand. It was why she would do whatever it took for that scholarship money. Despite the inner turmoil she felt with her moral compass every time she thought about the first task and the implications therein. A nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that he was treading into dangerous waters, and if he didn't wake up soon, he would drown. Knowing this, Jesús found himself splashing about (in a metaphorical sense, of course,) drowning in a river that was tactfully placed, created, and managed by Valerie. Her words (voice, really) helped him stay afloat; and for that, he was grateful. "The best babysitter, I might add. Plus," he leaned forward, and whispered conspiratorially, "it's not really babysitting if you're having fun in the process, is it?" He pulled away by just a bit, and resumed his role as the tentative, yet eager, pupil while she continued to be his teacher. For the dance, of course. "That's because...nothing is just simple with you." Jesús shot her a knowing look as he followed her lead. He didn't really need (or want, for that matter) her to try and one up him, not around all of these people (and especially not around their classmates and peers.) The music wasn't his style, but he sort of liked it now for reasons that he couldn't explain, and he barely had time to process what was happening right in front of him. Valerie didn't trip or fall or miss steps (not in front of him, at least,) so his surprise was genuine when she stumbled and held onto him. Instinctually, the sixth year wound up holding her a little closer than he would have normally. It took him approximately thirty seconds to realize what he was doing before he took a step back. And, no, him clearing his throat was not a ploy to detract from what had happened just seconds before. Like Valerie, Jesús also found himself looking elsewhere; he didn't actually know where to settle his eyes, but he told himself that as long as his shame (read: his flushed cheeks and ears) continued to be painfully apparent, he would find a way to conquer it. Just as easily as it was for him to look away, he was able to quickly turn his attention back towards her (which, he concluded, was the fault of Valerie and her voice.) There was no need for him to add to her comment, because he understood and empathized completely. Jesús also would have never attended anything as formal or as lavish as this in his life had it not been for the tournament. He thought about making a joke, something about them being kindred spirits, but thought better of it. No need to open that can of worms tonight. "It does seem like they have a very flamboyant way of celebrating," he mused. Flamboyant being an understatement. The tournament was just a means for him to infiltrate and destroy from within; he didn't actually want to win (he wanted to get very close, though,) and was silently supporting someone else in the hopes that they came out as the winner instead of him. __________________ Coming soon.