IC Inbox - closed

[hollowchild]

Ah, hello. You've reached Sophie, but I must be in the midst of something. If you have a question about self-defense or Teachers' Council, leave a message letting me know what precisely you're interested in and I'll get back to you.

...everyone else, do as you do, I suppose.

Comments

[hollowchild]

[guess who probably took that the wrong way]

Nothing good, really.

[wasthemaster]

...not exactly what I meant, and you know it.

[hollowchild]

Hnn.

[actually, she really doesn't. not even a little. but sophie never asks for reassurance, because it has never been forthcoming]

[wasthemaster]

...Sophie. I just mean it says a lot about the type of people you've grown up around.

[hollowchild]

[she stops breathing, her hands trembling on the back of his neck. she lets her head drop forward, which makes her hair fall onto his shoulders. the only reason she didn't blow it off is because she trusts him not to lie about something like that, but it's still a struggle to believe. if he looks up, he'll find her eyes squeezed tightly shut, lower lip held hard between her teeth. then she lets out that breath]

All right. I suppose it does. Sorry.

[wasthemaster]

[He can see in his peripheral vision, and because of that he doesn't say anything for quite some time.]

...you've a hard time believing stuff like that, too, don't you?

[hollowchild]

[if she were just a little less herself, she'd be crying, but she's very much herself, so she doesn't. she just makes a choked sound that was likely meant to be a laugh]

Slight understatement. In my defense, I have no experience at it.

[wasthemaster]

Hopefully we can fix that someday. It might be too late for me but you're a different story.

[hollowchild]

Oh, hush. You're not hopeless.

[she leans forward a bit, so that he can see her without having to crane his head back]

I'll try if you do.

[wasthemaster]

[He just raises an eyebrow. Do you believe you're not hopeless, Sophie? That'll be your answer.] We'll see.

[hollowchild]

[her mouth quirks, because god knows she probably thinks as badly as herself as he thinks of himself]

How about I believe it of you, you believe it of me, and we'll beat each other about the head with it occasionally. That seems approximately fair.

[wasthemaster]

Approximately. [A small smirk.] Fine. It's a deal.

[hollowchild]

Excellent.

[that knot is about as out of his neck as she can get it, so she goes back do his temples and the jaw muscles in front of his ears]

How is your head?

[wasthemaster]

Surprisingly feeling a lot better...I'll have to keep coming back if this persists.

[hollowchild]

Good. It's kind of soothing, honestly. Your back is probably a mess, too.

[wasthemaster]

Probably...I've been stressed for about two and a half years.

How am I going to repay you for this one?

[hollowchild]

Project for another day.

You don't owe me anything, Draco. But I think you already did, anyway.

[wasthemaster]

...how so?

[hollowchild]

You told me something I'd ever heard before. If you care about a trade, that counts.

[wasthemaster]

...all right then. We're even.

[hollowchild]

Mm. Good. But I'm not keeping score, and you needn't either.

The day after tomorrow for dinner?

[wasthemaster]

Day after tomorrow works for me.

[hollowchild]

Excellent.