Dead Lover's Lane.

[Professor Sebastiania Bouvier]

Sing me a song to remind me where I belong.
In your arms, my love, in cold blood.

Sebastiania had left Demetrius in the Gryffindor Common Room with the other girls in the dorm. She said she needed to take a long walk and she didn't want to bring the kitten with her. They said they would watch him even though it was Lysander's turn to take their kitten.

It had been a week since she talked to her "friend" Lysander. It had been a long and hard week. Barely sleeping at all and if she did it was because she cried herself to sleep. Tears took a lot out of you, specially when you thought of all the memories and things you said to someone and regretted them. But you couldn't take it back, you can't take anything back.

Did she want to talk to him? No and yes. No because he didn't want her in his life let alone anyone else for that matter. Yes because she wanted to apologize for what she said. Did she mean what she wanted to apologize for? Yes she meant everything she would say. But would she probably ever tell him sorry? No.

Sebastiania began walking into Rose Petal Lane. The Gryffindor hadn't noticed that she had stepped foot into the lane. She particularly didn't care where she was going. As long as it was away from that wretched school of magic.

Her outfit was normal looking. Light faded blue jeans with whole in the knees. A white shirt that said 'Boys Like Girls'. Black and hot pink jelly brackets on her arms. Her dark brown hair tied up in a pony tail to keep it out of her face, yet some of her bangs had fell beside her cheeks. Her shoes were black and white Vans to match her shoes and her mood.

Where was her shirt that Lysander had bought for her? In her trunk at the bottom still probably with eyeliner on it. She didn't want the shirt. Lysander wouldn't talk to her again. Sebastiania had that feeling that they wouldn't talk.

How were her classes? She didn't know. She didn't care right now. Sebastiania had spent her week in the dorm, in her bed, crying her eyes out. If she did eat it was only a few bites.

"I got your runaway smile in my piggy bank baby. Gonna cash it right in for a new Mercedes. You were worth the hundred thousand miles. But you couldn't stay awhile. I got your little brown shirt in my bottom drawer baby. And your little white socks in the top drawer. You were always leaving your crap around. And gone without a sound.

"Yeah I'm the first to fall and the last to know. Where'd you go? Now I'm heels over head. I'm hangin' upside down. Thinking how you left me for dead. California bound."

Sebastiania began looking around where she was. She was kind of surprised that she walked out that far from the school. Her hands went into her back pockets and continued to look around. 'Love is the rose on your coffin door' is what she thought. Simple lyric by My Chemical Romance.

She sighed and continued walking by herself. Sebastiania got some point further into Rose Petal Lane and she plopped herself to the ground. She brought her legs closer to her and she sat Indian Style. A rose was on the ground and she picked it up and began plucking the leaves off.

"He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me."

There was one last petal. Sebastiania pulled it off. "He loves me not." A sigh came from her lips and she threw the petal and the rose to the ground.

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[lys]

[Gah. Had to drop by. A depressed Sebastiania makes for a depressed Lysander.]

Shes the blade and you're just paper.
You're afraid cause shes got closer.
You're back-stepping and
She's back-stabbing everything in your life.

Perhaps he was hopeless. Perhaps he didn't deserve to have a someone in his life. It would make sense, would it not? And, of course, just to add to his misfortunes he had a cold. A desperately troublesome cold. Yet he did not want to pay a visit to the infirmary. He figured it would just be wasted time. He had yet to enter that place before and he would not do so now. Instead, he would rid himself of it on is own terms. Now if only he had had the foresight to bring Night-quil... He certainly needed some and it would aid in his sleep. That would certainly be worth the nasty after-taste it left behind.

His thoughts were scrambled and in no real order. So far he had managed to push Sebastiania to the back of his mind and had gone so far as to put the shirt she had gotten him in his suitcase. There was very little chance he would see it again until the term came to an end. That would have to do for the time being. But what he really didn't know right now was why he was wandering along Rose Petal Lane. He actually couldn't remember if he had been here before or not... I'm too young to start loosing my memory like this... A sigh escaped him as he paused in his trek. A rose bush off to the side had caught his attention, littered with thorns in order to warn off others.

Sinclair paid it no heed and took a few steps, closing the distance between him and itself. He reached out and carefully picked one near the top, not the least bit mindful of the thorns. This caused them to pierce his skin and small droplets of blood swelled in their respectful areas. He ignored it entirely. Only a small sting even reminded him of the minor injuries. The rose was twirled between his fingers and he thought of dying the petals a lovely obsidian hue. A smile brushed his lips before he fell back in to his emotionless facade. Even a rose has thorns...

Gradually he restarted his journey along the trail, twirling the rose in between his fingers. It was a distracting ordeal so paying attention didn't seem to be within his sights. Of course, not paying attention always had his consequences... so he ran straight into a lone bench. A grunt escaped him immediately and he backed away, sparing a glare at the inanimate object. I should pay more attention... and it's useless to glare at it... He rubbed irritatedly at his forehead but continued on all the same, this time looking out for any rouge benches along with anything else that could trip him.

As he went along, his thoughts slowly returned to the subject of Sebastiania. His brow furrowed and he allowed himself to frown. He really did need to talk to her... It was important. After all, she deserved to know why he backed out that day. He honestly hadn't meant to hurt her feelings... just... He wasn't use to dealing with these sort of situations. He really hadn't meant to... And it was still his turn to watch Demetrius, wasn't it? He never had gotten around to asking her if she wanted to take over...

Lysander found himself cocking his head to the side as words drifted into his ears, carried by the wind. Sebastiania. He paused, just listening to the words... A child's game. One that involved flowers at most times. He actually found himself unhappy with the last declaration and slowly started in the direction he heard it from. It didn't take him long to spot her and when he did, he pressed his back against one of the trees. For the time being he didn't want to approach her. Just watch. He wasn't even supposed to be bothering her. She probably wanted nothing to do with him.

But... he had warned her, hadn't he? That everyone was better off without him? That was why it was all his fault and not hers. I've thought all of this before... I'm beginning to repeat myself. Quickly he pressed his free hand to his mouth as a cough racked his body, smothered. Only when he felt the effects start to ware away did he drop his hand. The rose was still encased in his hands, fingers curled loosely around it. And he still watched in the silence even though he felt like saying sorry...

[Professor Sebastiania Bouvier]

Out of tune, this tale of terror.
I want to know what is going on in that pretty little head of yours.

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Her brown eyes looked around the lane. Sebastiania turned behind her and picked another rose. She avoided the thorns so she wasn't stabbed by the thorns. Sebastiania sighed and began plucking again.

"He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me. He loves me not. He loves me."

Then there was one last petal like before. "He loves me not." That was the thing she needed. So they weren't expose to be together. She could take a hint. Not like Lysander would ask her out anyway. That was a death wish for Lysander. It was just...complicated. There was no other way to describe it. It just was.

Sebastiania moved and put her head on the arm rest of the bench. She looked up at the sky. It was gloomy today. Sebastiania found that she liked gloomy weather stead of the bright weather she used to like. Another sigh came out of her lips and she turned over on her side. Her head and neck began hurting so she put her head against the bench itself and moved and propped her feet on the arm rest on the opposite side of the bench.

"And love's light blue. Led me to you. Through all the emptiness that had become my home. Love's lies cruel. Introduced me to you. And at that moment I knew I was out of hope.

"'Kill me,' I begged. And Love said, 'No.' 'Leave me for dead and let me go. Kill me,' I cried. 'And Love said, 'No.' 'Kill me,' I cried. And Love said, 'No.'

"Love's icy tomb dug open for you. Lies in a cemetery that bears my name. Love's violent tune from me to you. Rips your heart out and leaves you bleeding with a smile on your face."

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[Sorry I didn't type much. I have friends over. Eh.]
[Poor Lysander. ;_;][/size][/color]

[lys]

Shoot your bullets, and catch me if you can.
Hide from my fire bombs, and be a real man.

Sinclair remained where he was, attempting to hide in the shadows of the tree. He listened to her re-do the picking of petals and once again ended with the same result. She should try mother's method... Said "method" involved saying 'he loves me' over and over again until the very last petal was picked. Interesting method, no? He snorted lightly behind his hand and closed his eyes as she started up singing. She did that on most occasions... No. Every occasion. He had yet to meet anyone else who did that. Most seemed as though they would rather sing in their own heads.

The Mihael stuffed his hands in his pockets and pressed his head against the bark of the tree. Its rough surface rubbed irritatingly at his scalp but he steadfastly ignored it. When she had fallen silent he bit his lip for a moment. A deep breath followed and his eyes opened. But... he couldn't move his feet. They felt like lead; heavy and weighing him down. In the end he forced himself to move, taking small steps in her direction. I'm acting so silly. He shook his head slightly and picked up his pace. Gradually.

It didn't take long to cross the distance to the Gryffindor. When he finally did reach her he made sure to stay out of her immediate sight. Instead, for a moment, he thought over what he should say. With a sigh he stepped around so she could see him and turned his head to the side, eyes partially closed and hands still stuffed in his pockets. For the time being he avoided looking right at her.

"You know, you could always try my mother's way. Just keep saying 'he loves me'."

The tone of his voice was casual and laid back. However on the inside he was experiencing his own turmoil. He didn't want to come off rude or inconsiderate... like he apparently already had. No, he wanted to make up for that mistake. So with another deep breath he turned his head to stare at her, cocking his head to the side slightly. A few slow steps forward were taken and he stopped when he was just a bit closer to her form.

Lysander wasn't sure if he should just come out with an apology or drag on this meaningless conversation he had started... The apology part seemed as though it would be the better idea. At least that way he would have already come to amends with himself and hopefully her, partially. He still wished to make it up to her in other ways. Perhaps they could actually have lunch in the kitchens. He'd even cook... As long as she didn't hate him anymore. He nearly felt like telling her he would do anything for forgiveness... but those sort of things nearly always backfired.

"I apologize for my behavior before... It was unjust of me to turn you down like that. And please don't think bad things about yourself. My decision to remain outside wasn't necessarily your fault. I just... wanted to think... I'm sorry for making you think otherwise. I really do enjoy your company... and I don't want to screw all of this up. It's just your confession really surprised me and I wasn't prepared for that. And I honestly didn't think you felt that way for me. Hn... Also, I wasn't lying when I said I like you as well... Lying just causes so much more trouble when it comes to these sort of things."

Figures an apology would be one of the only times he spoke more then a sentence.

[Professor Sebastiania Bouvier]

'cause I'd rather waste my life pretending.
Than have to forget you for one whole minute.

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You don't realize how much you miss someone till they actually leave. Then there is nothing you could do. The saying goes, 'I can't miss you if you don't leave'. That's true and you never know how much you really miss them till they leave.

"I got a lot to say to you. Yeah, I got a lot to say. I noticed your eyes are always glued to me. Keeping them here and it makes no sense at all.

"They taped over your mouth. Scribbled out the truth with their lies. You little spies. They taped over your mouth. Scribbled out the truth with their lies. You little spies."

Sebastiania felt like getting up and to find that Lysander of hers. Yes she continued to claim him. Who else could she claim besides their kitten? She needed wanted to talk to Lysander. It was part of her ruteen. Wake up, skip lunch, get dressed, find Lysander, go take a shower, sleep and repeat. It wasn't much of a life but she enjoyed on how it was dull.

"You know, you could always try my mother's way. Just keep saying 'He loves me'."

Her heart stopped beating for a few moments. He was talking to her? When did this start? Why the sudden change? Wasn't he expose to ignore her for life?

Sebastiania's heart started beating normally. She didn't look at him as he didn't look at her. There was no reason to look at him. Sebastiania crossed her arms across her chest and looked at the wood on the bench. "But he doesn't so why should I even bother?" The Gryffindor was quite embarrassed that he had caught her saying 'He loves me. He loves me not.'

Lysander was quiet as expected. He wasn't here just to tell her to pick up another rose and go 'He loves me'. She wasn't about to do that even though she wished she had thought of that. Darn his mother.

His apology was unexpected. Sebastiania turned to Lysander. He was looking back at her with his bangs in his face. She would cut those bangs one day. Now she felt bad. To her she felt the size of an ant. Once she had been called a 'Cold-Hearted B-tch' because she didn't cry when her grandmother died. That's how she felt.

"I'm sorry I yelled at you. You're just so...complexed, Lysander. I can never figure you out. I never know what you really mean when you say something. I didn't mean to get all b-tchy at you.

He enjoyed her company. Sebastiania smiled a bit and still continued to feel guilty for being mean to him. She felt like hugging him to death but that was probably all too much for him. The Gryffindor uncrossed her arms and sat up. Sebastiania sat Indian Style and put her hands in her lap.

Lysander liked her. He wasn't lying to her. But why? Wasn't she a little out-going for him? Sebastiania expected him to like someone that was quiet that never spoke a word. He was weird. =]

"Friends now?," she asked.

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[lys]

Across the floor in the hand of where we drove the drill,
A cautious ear to the mouth of your confession.
Think of all the things we put him through.
In the face of his god would he tell the truth?

For a moment he wondered if his apology did indeed work and if she truly accepted it. His hands tightened slightly and immediately he looked down. As the rose met his sight he realized he had forgotten all about the thorned flower along with the minor injuries on his hand. He flexed said hand and was met with a slight stinging sensation but otherwise he was relatively fine. It wasn't necessarily all that painful after all. Without further ado he focused his attention back on Sebastiania and shifted slightly in his spot, listening. It would be unfair to ignore her for his hand. It would heal with time.

Complex, was he? Hn. He supposed he was. But that could not be helped. At least she didn't seem angry nor upset with him anymore and that was what he had been aiming for. It was quite nice to know that she wasn't actually. Refreshing. So he gave a small smile at her question and nodded slightly. Yes. They could be friends once again. And perhaps later on he would actually scrounge up the courage to ask her out. For now, however, things would remain as is. Friendship he could deal with... It didn't mean so much devotion and commitment as being with someone involved. That made it better... in a way. Hopefully he may actually ask her one day.

"...Is Demetrius alright? I can take him back with me again if you aren't ready to keep him just yet. If you are, I'll have to get a few things from the dorm for him to play with."

With that he decided he would ask the question of a visit to the kitchens afterward. He even knew what he wanted to cook as well. Hn... He may have to shorten said list though. And Demetrius could tag along as well. The more the merrier they always say. Who is they anyhow...? Off-track thinking. Tsk, tsk. Which reminded him; the term would be ending soon. He really should have attended more of his classes. It would have increased his chances of passing. However... he had only attended perhaps one class of each. That wouldn't get him much of anywhere really. And that did him no good.

Remaining in third year didn't seem to be all that promising. While many may have not been looking forward to truly leaving Hogwarts after their seventh year, he was. It meant that they were "ready" in some semblance to transfer to the real world - where everything was more then just about fun and games. He wasn't saying school was all fun and games but everyone just seemed so much immature at this stage. That was what truly bothered him at most points. Some people made fuss over the smallest things but that was true even in the real world he supposed. All the same, he was looking forward to it. Along with not sharing a dorm with others.

My mind is drifting off track again... and I still need to do one more thing...

Though he kept the frown off his face so as not to alarm Sebastiania, mentally and emotionally it was still there. He'd have to return home to visit his mother once again some time soon. There hadn't been any updates on her condition that he had received and he was positive that father would not write should there be any changes. At the very least, mother would attempt to could she do it. If for nothing more than to keep him in school. Hn. A futile attempt on her part.

Alas now was not a time to be upset and down. He was supposed to be happy... to a point. What with the Bouvier accepting his apology for his earlier actions. So that emotion would reign until he could keep it up no longer. Demetrius would probably end up his new psychiatrist. They obsidian feline would never breathe a word to anyone... not that he could anyhow. Yes. Definitely his new psychiatrist.

[Professor Sebastiania Bouvier]

Scream out loves’ name in vain
Embrace the pain again
And lose yourself alone in the dark
On dead lovers’ lane.

The Gryffindor was quite happy. Lysander and she were friends again. Now she had someone to talk to about things while he just nodded in response like in the good ‘ld days. Hopefully the friendship would last and they wouldn’t get into another argument. Who knows what could happen if they got into another squabble.

Sebastiania moved her feet so that Lysander could sit down next to her on the bench if he wanted to. It seemed a lot more comfortable in her eyes to sit down than to stand up. He seemed quite content since he had a smile on his face which was half hidden by his bangs. She would cut those bangs of his if he didn’t start to move it. Grawr. But then Lysander would probably kill her or something. He’s so quiet he could be one of those people that blow up a school or something. No one would ever expect Lysander Sinclair to do that, unless you’re Sebastiania.

Of course the Mihael would get Demetrius! Lysander and her were like a divorce couple y’know? They lived separately and had joint-custody of what would be their ”child” kitten Deme. So if you really look at it they were like that but just fifteen or sixteen year old kids in school learning magic. Sebastiania nodded.

”Whenever we go back inside we’ll go get Demetrius. Right now he’s probably in the dorm playing with JoAnna, Bellz, and Sasha [the girls she shared a dorm with]. I didn’t feel like watching him for a couple hours and they wanted to play with him.”


Food would be nice. Cupcakes with black or white frosting with rainbow sprinkles would be amazing. Or cup cakes with rainbow frosting and black sprinkles. As long as it wasn’t waffles or pancakes. Yucky. A rare hamburger would be nice also with a side order of fries. Yummy. =] Or sushi! Sushi was good. <3

Her brown eyes looked up to her friend. ”What would you like to do?” Sebastiania was tempted to tackle him. He looked so…stiff like. Lysander reminded her of a statue or someone having a painted portrait done up. No one could be still like the Mihael. Typing of painted pictures…

…”Have you drawn any?,” she asked. She remembered how she had met the Sinclair. He was quite [obvious] and drawing while Sebastiania herself killed a couple of shrubs by tripping over them. Lysander has said that the baby shrubs wouldn’t attack her. Odd conversation that ended when the Mihael had told her to sit still. That had been a very hard task for the Gryffindor. It was a nifty drawing Sinclair had made of Seb.

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[lys]

I really don’t mind what happens now and then,
As long as you’ll be my friend at the end.

Sinclair didn't take the seat she offered, preferring to remain in his 'statue-like' state. Sitting wasn't something he wanted to partake in just yet. Perhaps when his legs wore down enough to make he want to do as such. Until then, standing would be 'it'. He lowered his head slightly, eyes partially cloudy. For now it was silent so he might as well destroy a piece of his happy mood. It wasn't as though he wasn't already well on his way to accomplishing that anyhow. His thoughts had trailed back to his mother, probably still lying in the hospital. He couldn't recall where his father was anymore. Perhaps the man had finally decided to go and visit his spouse in the hospital. Or not.

Never before, excluding when he was too young to know better, had he truly showed care for his parents actions. What they did was none of his business. However by questioning his father and visiting his mother he supposed he was making it his business. Wonderful. And after all that time he had spent ignoring whatever they did. He never wanted to be involved... I need to write father later. It was a fleeting thought though he intended to complete the 'task'. If for nothing more then the well-being of his mother. If she hadn't written him already, of course.

He shifted slightly and nearly sighed but stopped as Sebastiania started speaking. He smiled slightly at what she said and nodded. That was perfectly fine with him. He intended to take him with them anyhow. He frowned a bit at the following answer, fumbling for an answer. He wasn't quite sure... Perhaps now would be the time to suggest a visit to the kitchens. It was his way to repent. The smile came back when she asked of drawing. Ahh... He really needed to do more of that however...

"I haven't done much... though I have finished the one from back at the lake. And I drew another of the Giant Squid. I intend to draw one of Demetrius as well."

Lysander knew that certain feline wouldn't sit still for a moment - too rambunctious. It wouldn't be worth the effort. So he figured it this way, draw it while he was sleeping. That seemed to be the best plan and least likely to screw up. Besides, Demetrius was so much more pleasant when he was asleep - peaceful. It was amusing to watch him kick his feet sometimes though. A very interesting 'specimen' for study, shall we say. Eventually he would have to get around to doing that. Sooner or later. So far, he wasn't even sure as to what setting they should be in. The dorms would be the best idea... But for now...

"Hn. Miss Bouvier, would you care to accompany me to the kitchens?"

The Mihael even gave a sweeping bow to top it off. He was smiling to himself, pleased with his small performance. It couldn't be helped. Just a bit of fun thrown in to his question. It was certainly less dull then just asking, no? Since when was I any fun... Sarcasm was rolled into the words. And when he truly thought about it, fun wasn't something he was necessarily familiar with. Sad, sad Lysander. Alas, Sebastiania had, and still was, warping his thoughts on fun. Delightful.

[Professor Sebastiania Bouvier]

A hand went over her mouth as she giggled. Lysander could be funny when he wanted to be. ”I would love to join your Mister Sinclair,” she said as she hopped off the wooden bench to frolic along beside her friend. Her friend had finished his drawings and pictures. A must see. Sebastiania smiled as they walked back to the school to pick up their furry friend.

There was no more to say. What was there to say? The Gryffindor currently had nothing on her mind at this moment. She made a popping noise with her mouth while looking at the roses as she passed by. They still weren’t her favorite. Black roses were the best. But how do you make a black rose? Easy peezy pumpkin pie m-----------. =] It’s amazing what words you could learn from Mistah Gerard Arthur Way of My Chemical Romance while he was drunk. Luckily he doesn’t drink no more. =] =]

The steps to making a black rose is easy. Get a white rose and put it into some water dyed black from food coloring. Had Sebastiania ever tried out this theory? No and didn’t intend to.

”So what else have you been up to while we weren’t talking?” Her brown eyes looked over to her friend. What was that shiny thing on his lip? Sebastiania’s eyes widened in shock. Lysander had got his effin’ librae pierced. Why hadn’t she noticed this? What was going on? Why didn’t he tell her? Why hadn’t she noticed?! She obviously hadn’t been looking at him while she talked to him till just now. She made a face and turned away from Lysander. One word: ouch!

When they got inside the castle she began skipping along the hallway till she tripped over her feet. Face first she landed on the ground. Her fingertips went to her nose. Another ouchy. Sebastiania shook her head and got up. ”I’m okay,” she said. Old line. And they continued to make their way to the Gryffindor Common Room to pick up their dear Demetrius. Lysander and Demetrius. HA! How William Shakespearey can you get? Now where the hell was Puck, Thesus, Hippolydia, Hermia, and Helena? No where to be found eh? Go figure.

”Be right back,” she said as she skipped to the Fat Lady to get inside the Gryffindor Common Room. Sebastiania said the password and went inside to fetch the kitten.

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[Kellie Black]

seb said:

Once she had been called a 'Cold-Hearted B-tch' because she didn't cry when her grandmother died.

I never know what you really mean when you say something. I didn't mean to get all b-tchy at you.

"Friends now?," she asked.

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[/quote]

Bleeping the word doesn't make it any better than actually using it. This is a warning, and then I'm locking this.