Unlikely Hero (Luke)

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The answer he gave was even more confusing than the fact he had given her a present. He didn't even know her, so why would he bother with something like that? She could not wrap her mind around it, especially since she had never really had experience with this sort of thing before. Nobody had ever really showed her attention of this kind ... well, ever, and Chrisy was more confused than concerned.

Had she had more than a handful of friends, she might have found it weird or suspicious, but she didn't, and the only thing Chrisy knew was that, for some reason, this boy was showing her kindness.

They were the best I could get, she thought, figuring he hadn't meant that she had purposely bought cheap ones, and so not voicing it out. That was the problem of having a secret hobby that nobody knew about; she couldn't spend lots of money on it, and in any case, it wasn't as though she had much to spend in the first place.

"They should make your work better."

Oh, she thought, a sinking feeling coming over her for a second. "Do... Do you not like it?" she asked, softly. Had she misunderstood everything he had done? From the way he had seemed to care about the streak of green to the way he had given her a new set of expensive paintbrushes... Had it all been one giant windup? Had she been too hopeful for someone to actually be nice to her? I knew it was too good to be true, she thought bitterly, having already drawn her own conclusions.

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The question of whether he liked 'it' made Luke pause for a moment, retracing what he'd said and realising 'it' meant her work. "I. No. Wait." The Slytherin paused, one hand going up to his lips in thought, before he looked sideways.

"Your work is good but you have rubbish paintbrushes." Luke told the witch, elongating his explanation in that moment. His hand moved to point to the box in her lap. "Now you have brilliant paintbrushes. Therefore, following the theory of rubbish paintbrushes giving you good work, brilliant paintbrushes will make your work better. Better than good, don't you understand? That is how this works." Luke explained, his eyes showing in that moment that he didn't know how she couldn't understand something so relatively simple.

"You will need better paints, and pencils, but I didn't get to check the make of the ones you had to identify their standard. But with time... yes. It can all be done." Luke added, mostly for his own use, his own thoughts coming to life in that moment. Yes, he could fix this to perfection, he could see it now.

Guest

As Luke began to speak, his explanation started to make more sense, and she realised (quite early on) that she had jumped to conclusions way too fast. She had to agree with him on the part about the paintbrushes, although she did not nod, instead simply listening. Had he really realised that from... what? 10 minutes of interaction with her?

Chrisy glanced down at the box in her lap and a shy smile formed on her lips. Yes, I do, she thought, and again wondered what she had ever done to deserve them. His conclusion was slightly incorrect, although she chose not to say anything. She knew, though, that paintbrushes had only a small part in it; the painting came out according to the skill of the artist. Of course, he had a point, and finer, thinner brushes helped to refine the art, and she was beyond grateful for the set she now owned. That was why she said nothing, instead nodding once, acknowledging his words.

"I... It's fine," she said, softly, at the offer of more things. "You... You don't have to do this, you know." Chrisy paused. "The paintbrushes are amazing, Luke, thank you, but you really don't need to waste your money on me."

She didn't understand why he would do this, or why anyone would bother being so nice to her. This almost-stranger - Luke - for some reason had decided to be her friend and be nice to her, and although he was slightly socially awkward, she was thankful nevertheless.

Guest

Not doing things that he wanted to would normally be an idea that angered Luke. However, Chrysanthemum didn't have that affect on him. No, her words telling him not to do something only made him want to do it more. A very, very scary outcome for a young boy to make from a young girl's words, but one that Luke had come to believe in that moment.

"It's not a waste of money if the things are used." Luke responded at her insistence of not wasting his money. His parents had often used words like this, that things were a waste of money because he'd lain them aside. But he knew that Chrysanthemum would not be like that.

And that was Luke done.

He'd delivered her present like he'd intended, and any more talk would have been a waste of his time. Time that Luke did not waste, it always had to have purpose. So, moving to the door without a word, Luke pulled it open only marginally, and checked the corridor to make sure it was clear.

Guest

His words held a truth she could not deny, and there was nothing she knew to say that could go against it. He was right, and it was something she knew was accurate, and yet... It wasn't right. I'm not worth the money, she thought, and then, Spend it on something of value, not on me. But, of course, she would never say those things out loud, and instead they stayed in her mind, quietly eating away at her self-confidence.

She was her own worst enemy, and she didn't even know it.

As the boy started to leave, she started. So soon? she wanted to ask, but the words got stuck somewhere between her mind and her mouth. It sounded too desperate, too whiny, for her to want to say it. So, the Ravenclaw kept silent, instead getting to her feet. There was one thing she wanted to do, and it took a few moments of gathering the courage to do so, but, finally, she stepped forward and held out the simple drawing of the owl she had completed earlier.

"Here. I... I want you to have it," she said, feeling more than a little shy in that moment. "As a sort of thank you for... For you help, and the brushes." A slight blush crept onto her cheeks, but she tried to ignore it and instead sent a shy smile towards the boy. After all, he had saved her, and this was the only way she knew how to convey her thanks - besides, that was what friends did, right? Give things to each other.

Guest

Luke was just about to step out in to the corridor when movement behind him stopped him in his tracks and he closed the door once more. Looking at the offered piece of parchment that was being held between them, Luke took it very carefully from her grasp, looking at the owl.

A normal person might have smiled upon receiving something so beautiful, but Luke simply nodded his understanding that he'd been given a gift for his help, and the brushes. Unlike Chrysanthemum he was not full of thank you's and you shouldn't have's. No Luke simply took the piece of paper, and understood that there had been a trade.

The redness in her cheeks in that moment made Luke look away though. He knew what a blush was, and that there were many a reason behind one, but he didn't know how any of them would fit to this situation.

So, without another word, Luke opened the door only enough to see the deserted corridor, and slipped from the room. It took him only a few strides to leave the corridor, and he was well on his way back to the Slytherin Common Room, with a gift from Chrysanthemum.

His Chrysanthemum.

» Outnumbered But Not Quite Alone (Luke)
» Between Children of the Shadows (Luke)
» Brokenness (Luke) [TW - self harm]
» A Wander Down Knockturn Alley (Luke)