Waiting for You, Stranger

Aha! So Damien's barriers could be broken! My 'Slytherins Rule Everyone Else Drools' could be convinced to speak with the commoners. It seemed Roxi had waged a full fledged attack against his defenses, using her entire arsenal of flattery, wit, and feminine charm.. with the added bonus of seduction and suggestive innuendos, of course. It did not matter if the methods had been dirty. She had created a crack in his mental walls, and through that weakness of his defenses, she planned to wriggle through and get quite comfortable and cozy.

He took the gum, which meant her blood traitor, Gryffindor hands had not ruined or soiled it so terribly he could not chew it. She grinned to herself, glancing down to hide the triumph. At his question, she looked up, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and tilting her head. She shrugged, saying, "Eh, it depends. A couple of Firewhiskeys, some special cigarettes-" her eyes danced- "and some friendly company." She shrugged. "I always have a little of the first two in my bag. The latter is getting increasingly hard to find nowadays."

Unsuspecting because Roxanne did not look like some avid supporter of Potter's Army or the Ministry or whatever there are these days, Damien continued to chew the gum in his mouth nonchalantly. He thought that she was merely a neutral vessel, only interested in short-term fun. He could deal with that. He always had too many long-term goals and ideals. A boy just needs a break sometimes. He remembered how someone used to say how she could not fathom how he had to reason with everything and stop himself from letting go. What was it that made him so ... paranoid? Well, she dumped him for that.

Damien listened attentively at what Roxanne suggested. The reasonable part in him thought of disclaimers first. "Look, Weasley. Today's an exception. No one knows we're friends. Let's keep the impression that way. Okay?" Consciously, he glanced everywhere around him. Nothing. No one. Satisfied, he eyed at the girl's bag and waited for her response.

Oh joyous, joyous day! It seemed that she had gotten the idea through Damien's head- or perhaps the idea had not been hard to get him to grasp, but hard to accept. She knew she was tempting enough to convince him, though, and her efforts seemed to have been paid off. She could see his eyes eying her bag and she knew she had him, if only she could keep him interested and in agreement with her. He still seemed rather jumpy about the whole deal, but after some Firewhiskey she bet she could get the boy to relax.

"Naturally," she answered brightly to his stipulation. "Why do you think I hang out at the Shrieking Shack. Inside, it's surprisingly cozy and no one goes up there. No one will ever have to know." She grinned, her eyes twinkling on his. She knew the whole proposition was going to be incredibly appealing to him- the ultimate temptation was a freebie day full of alcohol and who-knew-what with a person you were not supposed to associate with, right? She thought so.

Right. Admittedly, Roxanne's propositions did appeal to him. Slightly, he wishes to add. First, he had never thought of hanging out with a Gryffie before, let alone one that seemed to want to ... he still dared not let himself think what exactly. Besides, although Damien had always been passive about acting on his affections or lust on girls, why would any normal red-blooded boy say no to one who has offered it so invitingly?

Well, if Kendall can go do it, so can I. That was a thought of consolation. And it was indeed high time for some consolations. One year, he had cooped himself up with his books on Dark Magic and the usual homework. His siblings had teased him about how very Ravenclaw he looks recently, much to his dismay.

Damien reached under his white blazer and began to rub absentmindedly at his chest. The wind had turn chilly, and the boy had always been one who has low tolerance for the cold. "Well", he began, still rubbing at his chest as he now survey the shack. "What're we waiting for? It's getting cold out here".

Damien reached to his side to check for his wand. When he realized what he had just done, he frowned a little as he wondered what drove him to do that. Habit or ... would he be needing it? Relax, he tried to tell himself. Damien hated how his insides can never match up to his actions. He began to blame him mother, seeing as to how he was in the mood, for all of his weaknesses.

He was ready- he had finally got it through his mind that she was not going to spring a surprise on him where reporters jumped out and took pictures and called him a failure as a Slytherin. She certainly would not do that, seeing as it would most definitely ruin her own fun. She watched him for a few seconds, chewing her gum and looking him up and down a few more times, approving more and more each time.

At his words, a huge smile unfurled on her face and she could not help but jiggle a little with happiness. "Let's go." She turned around, a sharp about hace and pointed up to the house. "Onwards!" she declared, before stepping one of her long legs up onto the slat of the fence. She pushed herself over, turning back and gesturing Damien to follow.

She checked that the bag was okay before prancing off to the Shrieking Shack. Whenever she was in Hogsmeade, the shack was always the place went to relax and unwind, an escape from everything. She vaguely thought it might not be great to get high around Damien- she got rather loud and stupid- but she really did not care so long as he was too.

By the time he would be entering, she had already settled herself on the ground of the Shrieking Shack, her back propped up against a couch. She decided drugs could wait, but she had pulled out a pack of cigarettes in case she got the urge to smoke. She had uncorked a bottle of Firewhiskey and already taken the first sip. She patted the spot next to her for Damien and swirled the bottle invitingly.

While Roxanne seemed really happy, Damien felt miserable. It was none other than his mother that was still bothering his mind. He watched as the Gryffindor girl strutted away victoriously, making him feel as if he had given away a part of himself that had been a principle just a moment ago. Screw principles, he thought. Perhaps this is the beginning of his lost in faith over ideals? It would all be mother's fault.

Damien watched how Roxanne had crossed over the fence and flit excitedly towards the shack. He, however, did it at a slower pace. Tucking both hands into his front pockets, he followed her, keeping a decent distance at first before quickening his steps when he saw that she was about to enter the shack. The boy did find his strange companion's actions a little too enthusiastic, but it did not bother him as much as it should usually.

Soon, Damien stepped into the shack. He had been in here before, but always on his own. Oh, and that one time with ... He stopped himself there. Damien watched the girl's antics. All very inviting indeed. When she twirled that firewhiskey in her hand, he reached out to grab it. After a smirk, he let the bottle touch his lips.

One huge gulp. Damien savoured the liquid in his mouth before handing the bottle back. After which, he lowered himself down to settle his frame beside the girl, cautious not to touch her with his arm.

Hmmph. Roxi had not warmed him up as much as she had originally thought. Bugger. She really did not know if she had the energy to continue working as hard for this as she was. She was just going to have to get him a lot drunker. Roxi really was a sincere girl when it came down to it, she wanted all that gushy stuff she would never admit to- feeling loved, and wanted, and all that jazz. She just had a skewed way of achieving it.

She reached back for the bottle, sensing his distance and wondering what was wrong with her? Yes, she was a bit odd. But she was not that repulsive, was she? She felt her mood begin to slip and hurriedly brought the bottle to her lips tossing back her head and taking three huge, successive gulps of the drink, trying to get herself drunk as fast as possible to escape these thoughts.

She tore the drink away and sat it down between them, gasping for air slightly, before smacking her lips. "Om nom," she murmured- she would be ravenous when she returned, she could already tell. She sighed and leaned her head against the couch, desperately trying to regain her good mood. "So why're you in Hogsmeade?" she asked. "Don't worry, I plan to get so smashed I won't remember anything, prolly..." Already, her words were becoming less articulate. She knew how to get drunk in a hurry when she wanted to.

Damien watched Roxanne hit back three huge gulps of firewhiskey and scowled. "Hey, you're not waiting for me!" he exclaimed softly. As soon as the girl set the bottle down, he reached for it and intended to keep it with him. If anyone was going to get drunk, he wanted to be the one first. To stay sober while the other gets drunk ... Damien did not want to feel left out of the sensations now.

Raising the bottle to his lips again, Damien began to gulp continuously from the bottle. For a Fourth-going-on-Fifth Year, he never really had much of an alcohol training, seeing as to how it is banned from students from the younger years. As such, one could say that Damien's alcohol level is really weak. That first gulp was nothing. It was just a first. But if he kept up with this continuous gulping ...

Damien continued to drink even as Roxanne continued to talk. Her talk had slurred now, but the boy did not notice it. If she was still talking, she was still sober, right? The boy felt the firewhiskey burn his throat. He tried to understand what Roxanne had said. Still clear, he thought. Clearly the alcohol neeed time to kick in. When he felt as if his throat could not take the burning sensation anymore, Damien set the bottle down between him and Roxanne.

The boy threw his head back and unexpected it to land heavily against the couch, but it felt strangely light instead. "There was a girl who met this boy and then the boy he left that girl and then the girl she had a boy and then again she met the boy and then the boy he met the boy and then the girl she met this boy and then her boy he left this girl and went to live with the boy."

Damien stopped to gulp in some air from that continuous ... blabbering. His head began to feel lighter and lighter.

He seemed ancy to have some of the drink- Roxi supposed he was anxious to really be able to try it. She was one of the few people her age with as much experience with alcohol as she had, but even she still got so excited when she thought about being able to get drunk. She still treated each time like the first, though less nervous and no feelings that she would regret it..

"Fair enough," she responded, letting him drink his heart's content. She was not going to interfere with his drinking, as it seemed she was not desirable to him while he was sober. Well, maybe if he got drunk enough he would be able to look at her without cringing. Or better yet-- touch her without having to wash his hands off for days.

She was not sure where all of these sarcastic and cynical thoughts were coming from. Roxi typically got over happy under the influence- not depressed and full of self loathing. It was Damien, surely, making her think about herself the way she was sure he was thinking about her. He began to babble and where she would have usually smiled, she instead lolled her head to look at him.

"Low tolerance for alcohol, huh?" She added a hiccup to the end of her sentence and quickly swigged more Firewhiskey. She shook her head and in a low, gruff voice, said, "Kids nowadays." She hiccupped in place of a laugh and sighed.

It was peaceful before something started to ring in his ears. What is that? Damien brought his left hand to his left temple and pressed hard. His eyes, blazing earlier from his anger, had become dim as his lips turned from stern to sheepish. Someone had talked. The boy turned to the direction of this voice, sheepish smile in place. "Mother?" he asked, squinting to make out the person. Nope, not her he thought. "Lex?" Damien gave up. He wanted, for once, to stop thinking. The alcohol had started to have a good effect on him.

The boy let his head slide down slowly from its upright position against the couch. It landed on something, or someone. He looked up to check what it was, but only did it halfheartedly. Anything involving too much thinking, he was not going to do. Damien began to sniff at something that felt as soft as an arm, taking in the foreign scent next to him.