Bones (the optimist in me has retired) [Bridgette]

[Iain Murray]

Take these bones and break them to make me wings
That I might fly away on
Take these empty veins and fill them with wind
That I might sail away on.


After a few days of insane activity, Iain had finally slowed down. Slowed down to the point where he'd looked at himself and only saw shattered failings shout back at him from a deceptive bathroom mirror. Life had seemed so full a mere day ago, almost too full, too fast, too much, a stream of activity dragging him along - and now he had stopped, but the stream hurried on. Life was pounding into him like a waterfall on a single rock, eddying around him and trying to drown him out - and doing a pretty good job of it.
For a number of empty hours now he'd been on his bed, looking at the ceiling, unable to move because of the heavy weight of just everything that was pressing down on him. He was only able to breathe and feel his heart beat in silent panic, passive panic, as his lungs struggled to fill themselves, overdosing on oxygen and yet feeling as though they were going to burst any moment.
Oh God.

He slowly raised his arms to put his hands over his face, like a shield or a mask, and choked out a sob. Alone. The room was so empty. Echoed. Cailean was so far away. His parents were not here. He didn't even have a pet. There was no one, no one, no one, no one-
If only living was just breathing - but he couldn't even manage breathing. Something sat in his chest and choked him, and Iain sat up with a jolt, coughing and feeling tears seep into his calloused fingers (and he tried to convince himself it was because of the coughing, not because there was a pressure inside him that needed relief, he really did try). He rubbed his eyes, feeling gritty and raw, and lowering his hands, he absent-mindedly prodded at his breastbone. Hollow, right behind there. Hollow and as though there was a cable hooked behind it and someone was pulling, pulling- Cracking him open.

Iain stumbled to his feet, restlessly pacing his bedroom (now with rug to prevent cold feet), until the room was too small and cramped, too much like a prison, and he escaped out into the hallways - but whereto? He shivered, cold. He was only wearing jeans, that was it. Not even socks to keep his feet from cramping up against the cold stone. He couldn't remember where he'd left his shirt, he'd lost it at some point. The collar had felt constricting and uncomfortable, so he had tore it off, thrown it off his body as though it had been a venomous spider.
Whereto now, though? Because as small as his rooms had felt, so overwhelmingly cavernous and public did the hallways feel. Quiet and empty (which, as it was in the middle of the night, wasn't so strange) and Iain felt watched. He walked for a bit, wincing at the echoes, until he realised he was outside Bridgette's door.
Bridgette. She was nice. She knew him - from before too. She'd understand, maybe. Hopefully. Probably. Or at least she wouldn't let him sleep alone.. would she? He really didn't want to sleep alone.

He knocked the door. "Bridgette?" - a mere whisper. Nothing. Iain had forgotten that Bridgette was on the night shift at the moment and wouldn't be back yet. He knocked again, louder, the desperateness of the act creeping into his voice as well. "Bridgette?!" He knocked again, but everything went silent as soon as the echoes died away.
Shuddering a breath, Iain stepped back. Well. Then.
He'd wait for her, then. (The thought was almost as stubborn as he usually was - was that a good or a bad sign?) She had to come to the door some time. He was not going back in- back into- He wasn't.
Quietly, he sank to the floor, sat down next to her door, numbed feet and cold skin against cold stone, and pulled up his knees. As time passed (he had no idea now much time, it might as well have been a hundred years to Iain) he could feel the cold creeping through his jeans, into his joints, but moreso he could feel a fearful, choking feeling of despair growing. She wasn't coming. She wasn't here. No one was coming. He felt so small under the high ceiling, huddled against the wall.

And then- footsteps on stone, echoing closer.
Iain felt his heart clench and tense, some kind of painful anticipation as his breath caught. Part of him wanted to get up before whoever it was got there, hide in shame and never come out, but when he tried his muscles cramped and objected, and so he sat as the footsteps came closer.
Gathering a small spark of courage, Iain swallowed a lump in his throat, calling out in a raw voice - "Bridgette..?"

Make me make sense again
Kindly won't you wake me when
I don't have to blindly drive on
Rent me a new lease on life
A slightly smoother landing strip
Than I can land alive on
Give me something concrete
Or maybe something to believe in
A slightly happy end

The song the lyrics are from.

[Bridgette C. Hamett]

Tonight wasn't a good night. Bridgette had to stay a little later than she wanted due to a young boy being unable to fall sleep because of the pain in his leg. The boy had twisted his ankle, rather badly actually. plus, Madam Pomfrey was running a little late. She couldn't complain though. The only thing waiting for her was maybe a little plate of food that Silvanus may have made for her and that was just iffy. Exhausted, her heels clicked through the echoy hallway. her body swaying side to side slightly due to the fact she was just that exhausted from working. "why do students thing it's an excellent idea to hurt themselves more because it's warmer out?" she whined to herself as she came to a stop in front of the staff room.

the fire was dimly lit in the corner but it gave enough light for her to find a kettle. She placed some water in the kettle and put it over the fire to heat up. She decided to make some tea and bring it back to her room. Why not? she could do what ever she wants technically. Bridgette plopped on the couch in front of the fire. the heat climbing her legs, heating them intensely, almost enough for her to want to move. She didn't. the couch was too comfortable right now. " maybe i can sleep here..." she contemplated. deciding against it she sighed and got up. she made her way to the counter and leaned on it. she reached up to the cabinet above her and grabbed a tea cup with a little matching plate for it. placing it on the counter in front of her, her arm reached down the counter, refusing to move her feet she kinda pushed her arm over the counter and reached for the tea-bags. It was muggle kind but at this moment it was the fastest way.

grabbing the tea-bag she placed and little pot holder on the counter and held another one in her hand. it wasn't long after that, that the kettle started screaming giving Bridgette a fright. Bridgette rushed over to the kettle, grabbing it with the pot holder and bringing it over to the counter and setting it on the other pot holder. Her eyes stared at the top as she opened it and placed a teabag in it. She let it settle in it for a few moments before holding the string and dipping the bag and letting it settle again. She moved away from the kettle and grabbed the sugar, she took a cube and placed it in her tea cup. remembering that having a spoon would be good, she grabbed a small one from the draw in front of her.

her eyes turned to the kettle as she went to grab it, burning her hand on it she flinched back and whined a little. It was a nooby mistake, one she hadn't done since she lived with her grandmother. The thought of her grandmother saddened her but she was relived to know her grandmother was in a better place. another sigh was realized from her lips as she grabbed the kettle again but this time with the pot holder. She started to pull the tea into her tea cup, only pouring enough to satisfy her a bit but not enough to overflow the cup. "hmmm...." she murmured as she smelt the tea.

she stepped back from leaning on the counter and grabbed the plate which held the cup of tea on it and started out of the staff room. "this will do it." she smiled happily as she continued down the hall and taking a small sip. It was hot but it felt nice going down. Her heels echoed through the hall which made her feel a little bad for the other professor's who were probably trying to sleep. normally she'd take her shoes off but tonight she just didn't care.

she rounded the corner and started towards her room. Bridgette's eyes focused on her door, it was soo close now she could see it. but was rather unsure of what exactly the shadow was sitting by her door... that was until she heard it talk.

"Bridgette...?" echoed a bit. She froze. That voice... It was Iain's the co-worker she had been crushing on a little bit.. and that shadow? was probably him. Fearing for the worse, she dropped her tea. the tea cup, plate and spoon crashed to the floor causing the cup and plate to shatter. Before she could even think of what to do, her natural reaction was to rush to him. Her feet took large steps as she dashed to his side. "Iain?...... Iain?!" she said almost panicky. She always feared the worse for some reason and right now, that's what she was doing. "Are you alright? please come inside" she stated almost too quickly that her words sounded a little jumbled together. She stood up and dug through her pocket of her dress for her key.

her hands were shaking with fear, excitement, and just adrenaline. finally after a minute or two she got her door open. She pulled out her wand and pointed it at her fireplace. " Incendio" she spoke loud and clear, just then a little fire started in the fireplace and brightly lit the room. she rushed back to Iain's side. "Can you get up?" she asked him as she rested her hand on his should. her face was almost greased with worry. This was rather scary for her.

[Iain Murray]

Iain winced as he heard something shatter, but it was too dark to see what it was. As the scent of spilled tea reached him, he could guess, though. Damn. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry-" he hastened to mumble. Why could he only do things wrong? He should be lucky he hadn't given her a heart attack and had only broken some crockery and spilled her tea. Despite his ruining her midnight tea, he felt her crouching next to him, heard her saying his name with about as much of fearful desperation as he felt himself at the moment. "I'm sorry," he choked out again, trying not to burst into tears, ducking his head in shame. He had made a mess of himself, unable to sleep at night, and now he was ruining her night as well. He was rubbish.

He could hear her key rattle as she tried to open the door, as nervous as the fluttering in his own chest, and guilt wrecked through him - feeble and frightened. Iain would turn away and try and crawl back into his own room, but then she lit a fire and the promise of light and warmth and company-
Iain swallowed as she asked him whether he could get up and nodded blankly. "Aye-" he muttered, voice barely above a whisper. He should at least be able to get up. He should be able to get something right. Carefully, Iain uncurled himself, shivering as though he hadn't noticed he was cold before. His muscles complained as he got to his feet, slowly and stiffly, seemingly a foot shorter than he was simply because he felt cramped up and simply couldn't muster the strength and will to stand up straight.

Indecisively, he stood on the treshold to Bridgette's rooms, leaning against the doorframe, in dubio on whether to enter or not. He just wanted to rush in and not be alone, but he could see how worried she was. Iain didn't want to worry her even further. "I'm sorry," he said, again, avoiding her eyes. He couldn't look at her, he felt beyond shame. "You probably had a long night." Iain backed away two paces, intending to go. He should just leave, go to bed (or drink himself into a stupour until he finally fell asleep). "I'm sure you're tired, I'll just-" He half glanced over his shoulder, into the dark corridor. It seemed to stretch on infinitely. He really didn't want to go.
But he should go, he didn't deserve her kindness like this. He ought to act like an adult and just keep these kind of things to himself. It had been bad enough when he was a teenager, slipping out of bed to hide in Cailean's dorm and cry and pretend to be ill just so he wouldn't have to face people- Shame washed over him at the memory and he felt his face flush, his eyes brimming with tears, and damnit, he didn't want this to happen!

"I'll clean up the mess," he muttered, finally managing to turn himself away from the invitation that the fire seemed to send out and turning towards the dark. He walked a few steps until his bare feet encountered lukewarm liquid and shards of porcelain and squatted, picking up shards with numb hands. Ironically, the still partially warm tea warmed his fingers, made them tingle.

[Bridgette C. Hamett]

Bridgette waved off his apology's, there was no need for them. she was doing what she'd do for anyone. rushing to them and aiding to them. mostly when they looked as bad as Iain did right now. which only sent her adrenaline in an uproar. Almost she was shaking. "stop apologizing for something you didn't do" she said sweetly as she smiled at him, trying to give him the feeling that he wasn't being a bother. which he really wasn't.

It almost pained Bridgette as she watched him slowly get up. she almost immediately rushed to his side in hopes of helping to prop him up but seeing as she was much shorter than him she wasn't sure if it did much help. she slowly tried to lead him towards her room. "Tell me what happened" she said with a bit of concern in her voice that was utterly visible a blind man could see it.

Bridgette was confused. Why did he suddenly show up at her room in such a sour mood... well not so much as sour as to a mood that makes her worried. "Iain..." she softly said watching him back away a bit. she stood there for a moment. actually unsure of what to really do. Of course, she didn't want him to go, she cared very much about it and worried about him honestly. he was a dear friend, co-worker and she also had a think for him. of course she couldn't just turn him away.

She went to grab him but he moved just out of reach. she didn't pause and wait, she made a move towards him, and stopped next to him. "Please" she paused "Dont go" she bent down and placed her hand on his back. "Iain, please leave that." her other hand reached for his. "come inside and keep me company." she added as she rubbed his back lightly. She stood up and started towards her room. " now get up and get in here before you catch a cold or something." she almost demanded of him. she felt bad for being a little bossy but couldn't help it. he needed to listen to her and by golly he was going to listen to her!
Her feet lead her into her room towards her trunk. she opened it and pulled out a little black nightgown that was probably a little too Lacy and not very appropriate for this night. "I really hope you don't mind. I mean, If you plan to stay the night here, which I strongly suggest." she stated as she gestured to the bed. in all honestly, she wanted to sleep with Iain, and by sleep with, of course she meant sleep next too, cuddle and just wake up next to him the next day. She's never done that before and thought it'd be a new experience she should experience sooner or later.

"Iain, please, make yourself at home, I insist"

[Iain Murray]

She may have felt no apologies were in order, but Iain did. He couldn't express how sorry he felt, the word 'sorry' just didn't cut it, and he wasn't particularly good with words, words escaped him or turned against him. Actions spoke louder than words. Still, he didn't argue. Bridgette asking him what had happened made his eyes blur with tears, though, and that just emphasised the frustration. Because what had happened? Nothing, really. It had just happened. He was just pathetically feeling sorry for himself - and burdening her with it.
He felt he couldn't lie to her, though. "I couldn't sleep alone-" he muttered. "I couldn't-" Couldn't finish his sentences, apparently. His brain and his lungs just grinded to a halt and refused at hearing the concern in her voice. His fault.

Iain swallowed and drew a shaky breath when she said his name. Her saying his name like that just made him want to give into the tears that were threatening to spill and burst into sobs, so he turned away to take care of the mess instead, picking up the shards with trembling hands and gathering them in a cupped palm. He could do that. He could do something.
A choked breath escaped him when she asked him not to go. He couldn't say no to that, much less when he felt a small hand on his back, which somehow gave him more comfort than he'd thought possible. She asked him to come inside and he had a right mind about it to refuse and just walk back to his rooms (cold, dark, vacuum), but then she just about ordered him and he found himself gently pushed into the circle of warmth and light (whether by her voice or her hand he was unsure).

Inside, it was even easier to see how haggard he looked. During his mania, he'd hardly slept and pretty much overdosed on coffee, in his depression he often was an insomniac (either that or he slept constantly). He looked about ready to crumble, bar the fact, even, that he was hardly dressed. (Sure, it was April, but that didn't meant he castle was comfortably warm!) He put the remains of the tea tray on a nearby desk and then didn't know what to do with his hands.
A little lost, he stood before the fire, quietly appreciating its warmth, and he almost slumped in relief when Bridgette said she was going to let him stay. "Thank you," he whispered, then cleared his throat and repeated the sentiment a little louder, just in case she hadn't heard. At her question to make himself at home, he nodded slightly and slid off his jeans slowly, folding them and putting them out of the way. He usually slept in pjs (he loved pjs, soft, comfortable, warm-) but he didn't have any here and he didn't want to walk back to his room, so boxers would have to do. He wasn't ashamed, per se - Iain just hoped Bridgette wouldn't mind.
Quietly, he sat on the bed (quietly enjoying how he sank into the mattress a little), slowly running a hand over the sheets with a pensive expression (and very pointedly not looking at Bridgette as she changed - that was only polite). As energetic as he usually was, that energy and activity was nowhere to be found, now.

[Bridgette C. Hamett]

Bridgette changed out of her dress and in to her nightgown all while she kicked off her shoes., she neatly placed her dress in the hamper she kept in the corner and placed her shoes in her show self that only contained about six different pairs of shoes. "Iain" she started but didn't finish her thought. she decided he would tell her why he had come to her when he wanted to. She understood the reason as to why he probably couldn't sleep alone. He was probably used to sleeping next to someone and the sudden shock of sleeping alone in a bed none the less having the room all to yourself can be quite scary. Honestly, it took Bridgette a bit to get used to living by herself. she didn't like it but she couldn't demand someone to stay with her. So this night, was actually very comforting for her too.

She started to pick things off her already clean floor. she couldn't help but do it when ever there was someone over or coming over. It was just a natural habit she had from when she grew up. She moved to the opposite side of the bed that Iain was sitting on and placed her wand on the little side table. she then proceeded to take off her ring, bracelet and her necklace. placing those things as well as her wand in the little draw. This was her side of the bed, even if she was the only one that normally slept in it. She enjoyed being closer to the window/wall but she had been meaning to rearrange her room but just simply hasn't had the time. Bridgette took her hair out of the bun it had been in for work, it was starting to give her a headache anyways. She ran her fingers though her hair to loosen it up and to rub her head a little to relieve the pressure.

Her feet lead her to Iain, in which she stood in front of him. she opened her mouth to say something, but closed it. the light from the fire hit his face in such a way she couldn't help but be mesmerized by it. Her hand moved to his face, caressing his cheek lightly. "You are always welcomed here you know. If you get too lonely or you just want someone to sleep next too, I'm here." her eyes stared into his as she stated the fact. the same hand that had caressed his face moved to his forehead and brushed some of his hair out of the way. Her body instantly leaned forward a little and she planted a light, gentle kiss on his forehead. Her lips lied there for a moment before she moved back and looked him in the eyes again.

She was still worried about him more of his health now. How long could have this been going on? had he even gotten a decent nights rest yet? "Is there anything you want? a cup of tea? maybe something to snack on?" Bridgette always had something to snack on in her room due to her midnight cravings of cookies.

[Iain Murray]

Iain just sat and enjoyed the warmth seeping back into him. It made him feel as though he was coming back from the death, as though he had been drowning under the ice and now had air back in his lungs and warmth in his limbs. He still felt far from fine, the doubts and voices in the back of his mind not erased, but at least he was physically more comfortable - and in better company than just his own, too.
He glanced at Bridgette over his shoulder when she called his name, twisting where he sat but not turning towards her fully, and when no other words followed he turned back again, just sitting on the bed, near the fire, feet curled inwards on the carpet.

Slowly, he started to find his footing as she rummaged around a little, cleaning up. It was probably a good thing she was giving him space like this, it made him relax slightly. Not relaxed enough to undo the knots in his back and shoulders, but enough to stop him from hunching as much, at least, and enough to make him breathe a little easier.
Raising his head to look up at Bridgette, he couldn't help but leaning into her hand touching him. He had been so starved for affection. He had always been touching with Cailean - prodding, poking, nudging, leaning, hugging.. Since he'd arrived at Hogwarts, there had been none of that. All touch had been detached, clinical, and the tenderness of Bridgette's warm hand against his cheek was enough to make him tear up again, touched in more than one way. He couldn't believe how nice she was to him, offering to be there for him like that, and she looked so sincere - and then she kissed him. Sure, only on his brow, but it was still a show of intimate affection and enough to make tears run down his cheeks again. Conflicted tears - tears of happiness and tears of shame at the same time. Part of him was so relieved, another part of him felt so exposed. "Thank you, Bridgette, thank you," he choked quietly and he wished he had something to offer in return, he wished he could promise he'd be there for her, too, but he wasn't good at such things. He wasn't a good friend. Not like she was. He wiped his cheeks.

Iain hadn't eaten much at all today, nor had he taken the time to eat in his mania (he had had some food, but tended to forget about it if something else presented itself, and had left a lot of half empty plates behind that way). He couldn't think of food now, though. His stomach was full of shame and pain and tears. He could tell Bridgette was worried, though (and that was a good sign, him noticing such things, because when he was really, really deep in his hole of depression, he didn't notice anything, it was like there was a barrier, a film, between him and the world, like he was out of sync), so he nodded a little. "Tea, please..?" And all he could think was 'a hug, I'd like you close'. But he swallowed those words down, he didn't want to take anything she wasn't offering.

[Bridgette C. Hamett]

All's Bridgette could do was smiled and nod slightly when he asked for tea. In her opinion, Tea fixed very thing. but now, she wasn't even sure it I'd fix what ever is wrong with Iain, and by that, means what is really wrong with him. She wasn't sure how serious exactly this was, of course it was serious but what level? sure enough, she'd treat it like it's an operation on the heart. "Alrighty" she smiled before slowly moving away from Iain, towards the built in cabinet in the wall.

She had this stash for emergency's and this was one of them. She pulled the cabinet door open and reached up, barley reaching the kettle, she pulled it down from the third shelf. Her hands then reached for a tea bag on the second self which was a lot easier to reach, for her anyways. She opened the top of the kettle and moved over towards the fire. She placed it on the couch for a moment before she did a little jog to get her wand out of the draw and jogged back to the kettle. She pointed her wand inside the kettle "Aguamenti " she whispered. just then, a little jet of water came spurting out of her want landing in the kettle. once finishing that, she carefully placed the kettle on some warm coals so they could heat up the water with out her actually having to put the kettle in the fire.

Oddly, it wasn't long until it started to bubble. quickly, she opened the top of the kettle and dunked the tea bag in. before she turned around and looked for something to grab the kettle with. Her blue eyes landed on an old dish rag she must have stolen a while ago. Her grabbed it and with that she grabbed the kettle from the coals. She placed the kettle on an old table that she's been meaning to get rid up do to the fact that it was unstable and ugly. She moved away from the kettle to retrieve two little plates and two little cups. " would you like anything in your tea? I have honey, sugar, lemon, fire whiskey, and probably some milk around here...." she paused and looked around.

She took a gamble decided to add some sugar and milk. only because she's seen him put those two things in it but didn't exactly know how much. She moved back to the built in cabinet and reached into the hidden chilled compartment where she kept cold things, finding a little bit of milk left, she took it and pour it in to one tea cup. next in the same tea cup she placed a bit of sugar. not a whole lot but a decent amount. In the next tea cup she poured a shot of fire whiskey. She couldn't hold her liquor but one shot didn't make her act any differently than she normally did. well at least for a while. but she figured they'd be in bed by that time, sleeping of course. Bridgette held the two teas plus the little thing that held the sugar as she slowly brought Iain his tea, being careful not to spill it. "Here you go." she said handing it to him before taking a seat next to him. She didn't sit right next to him, there was a little space, she wasn't exactly sure if she should sit so close to him but decided to take a chance. "This isn't a bother you know, I enjoy having company too." she smiled happily at him before sipping her tea. her eyes moved to his face again, this time she moved a little closer to him. not wanted to scare him off or feel uncomfortable, she lightly rested her head on his shoulder.

Bridgette was really happy at this moment.

[Iain Murray]

Iain swallowed heavily, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat, and did a fairly good job. Tea wouldn't fix him, indeed, but it would ground him a little. He watched her rummage through cupboards and twice or thrice opened his mouth to ask if he could help her with anything, but didn't speak up - he'd already broken a cup today and his hands weren't exactly steady. So he watched her reach and move and pour and search, quiet himself, silent on the bed, unmoving. Some people would've thought this was the impossible, Iain sitting still - it wasn't, he just usually hid when he was in a mood like this. This was the first time he had ever reached out for someone who was not Cailean.
If he took anything? "Just sugar and milk, please," he answered, his voice less raw but quiet nonetheless. Firewhiskey sure was tempting, but probably a bad idea even though getting drunk and falling into sick oblivion felt like a good option at this point.

He accepted the cup with a smile and with hands that were less shaky than he had feared they would be. "Thanks." He took a sip. The tea was still slightly too hot, burning on his tongue and down his throat, but it felt good. Warm. He smiled a little wider when she sat next to him and assured him she liked having him around. "Me too," he whispered into his cup. "It's so quiet here at night, makes me want to make noise sometimes." He chuckled dryly, but not completely joylessly. He relaxed a little further as she leaned against him, transferring his cup to his left hand (resting it on his knee, feeling a circle of warmth bloom on his skin) so he could wrap his right arm around her.
"Apart from the times I don't want to make noise - I can't. Sometimes it just feels like everything I do fades into the walls and I don't exist at all." He swallowed, throat suddenly dry, and sipped his tea again, casting his eyes down. He wasn't sure if he should feel relieved or ashamed about admitting that so freely. He hadn't even talked about it much with Cailean, he'd just be there and that would be enough, usually. "But I won't bore you with that," he concluded quietly and smiled, faintly and apologetic.

[Bridgette C. Hamett]

Bridgette's heart leaped the moment his arm wrapped around her. This was the first time she's ever actually been touched this way. " Yeah, It does get quite quiet around here. mainly at night. which I'm never a fan of it." she laughed slightly at his attempt at a joke. " quite." she smiled at him. as she took another sip of her tea. A little giggle escaped from her lips as a dirty thought appeared in her mind. of course, it involved making noise but it was really dirty something she never thought she'd even think of doing. which made her blush intensely. "When I first started here, I felt just like you, well lonely mainly." she sighed a little. those days were almost completely gone now. not that she minded it really. being lonely was never fun for anyone.

Bridgette placed her plate and teacup on her knee and balanced them. her hand moved to his face again, caressing it lightly once again. "but you do exist." she whispered and smiled lightly. " and what you do doesn't just fade into the walls. If it did, wouldn't you be stuck to the wall?" she tried to joke she half heartedly laughed at her lame joke. she was never actually good at them. She took another drink of her tea, now HER hands were shaking with nervousness. she tried her best to stop the shaking but wasn't doing a good job about it. Bridgette soon finished her tea and stood up and started towards where she originally got the tea cup and placed it down. no, she knew it'd be bad if she had another cup of tea with fire whiskey so she just placed the tea cup and plate down and moved back towards Iain. She didn't sit next to him this time, she stood in front of him leaned down and got comfortably close to his face. "Is there anything I could do to make you feel more comfortable here?" she asked softly. " you're my guest and I'd to anything to make you feel more at home." Bridgette's hands rested behind her back as she leaned over and looked at his face. a cheeky smile now planted on her face, she wanted Iain to not be so... so... upset.

Obviously she was worried. Soon enough her legs become tired and she moved next to Iain and sat down. Close to him this time, but she didn't lean in, she lied back. her hand reached to Iain's back as she ran her fingers up and down it lightly. a little fit of giggles softly escaped from her lips.

[Iain Murray]

He just needed her close right then, someone he trusted, and he didn't care about his state of undress, just needed skin on skin contact - either platonic or not so much. Iain managed a smile, but really just pulled her a little closer, resting his chin on her head and closing his eyes. His tea was momentarily forgotten, it was just a moment of contact between two fairly lonely souls and something both of them craved. Certainly something Iain craved at that moment, anyway, and perhaps Bridgette as well - he couldn't be sure, but she didn't seem to mind in the slightest. "So what did you do?" he asked. "When you first came here, how did you fix it?" He was genuinely curious (not just for her, but also for himself, because even if she said he was always welcome, he couldn't imagine that she'd always be here - why would she?). He couldn't imagine that something like this could ever be fixed, not really.

He kept his eyes closed as she touched him again. Had he been a cat, he would've been purring - he couldn't help it, where she touched him he felt like he came alive, if only for a brief moment. For as long as the touch lasted, sizzled to life beneath her fingers, sparkling briefly before dying again. Iain half chuckled at the image of himself being stuck to the wall. "It feels like that, trapped." But moreso the fearful feeling of not leaving a lasting impression, no trace. Footsteps in the snow, bound to melt and be forgotten.
Sighing quietly, he opened his eyes and finished the rest of his tea in one gulp, toying with the empty cup a little until he looked up at Bridgette again. "I'm comfortable," he quietly assured her. "I'm okay." Or he would've been if his voice hadn't broken on the 'okay'. Of course he wasn't okay. He felt terribly inconsequential. As her guest, though, he was okay, he was fine. He wasn't quite sure what that smile on her face meant, wasn't sure what he should read into it, but it suited her, so he decided to just take it at face value.
Iain put his cup away as she sat back down next to him and then as he turned back, she was lying down, looking up at him and caressing her fingertips over his back. Shifting position, he turned towards her and got down on his stomach next to her, propped up on his elbows. "What?" he asked under his breath, wondering what was funny, why she was laughing - but then it was slightly contageous, and Iain found himself smiling back at Bridgette lopsidedly.

[Bridgette C. Hamett]

Bridgette laughed softly when he asked what she did. actually, what she did probably was a little childish. "I had a stuffed animal I cuddled it when I was lonely." her voice died down slowly. "I used that until I made good friends here. because after that I wasn't so lonely... but every now and then I get lonely and i cuddle it again." she ended up frowning slightly before turning it upside down. " I wasn't used to such a large bed at first. I first slept right in the middle but over time, I kinda wanted someone next to me. you know what I mean?" she asked him.

Bridgette frowned slightly. " being trapped is never do you know..." before laughing softly. "the only place you're allowed to be trapped is in my arms!" she blurted moments before she wrapped her arms around his neck and held him tightly for a bit before releasing him from her hold.

Bridgette's face sank when his voice cracked when he spoke about how he was 'okay'. she shot him a frown for basically lying to her face but dismissed it soon enough because she simply forgot it. "If you get cold or something, we can move this convocation to laying in bed. " she smiled happily, trying to make sure Iain was the most comfortable as he could be.

It wouldn't be long until she, herself moved under the covers. a little chill snuck up her legs, sending goose bumps up her entire body, ending at the top of her head. causing her to shiver slightly.

Lying on her back, she giggled lightly still. the dirty thoughts running through her head right now just amused her. It was all caused by the liquor she had. it wasn't even much but still enough to effect her. She wasn't going to drink anymore that's for sure. " oh.... you know..." she paused before for a moment as a grin grew on her face. as she moved closer to his face. " I'm just being a dirty birdy is all" she whispered as she giggled once again and leaned back down. Bridgette readjusted her self on to her side, facing him. she continued to smile at him as she moved her hand to his face again, her nails ran lightly down his cheek as she smiled. she leaned in, her face up to his, she touched her nose against his. she closed her eyes for a moment before looking in to his. Her lips grew closer to his, like she was going to kiss him, perhaps she was? she certainly didn't have control of her body at the moment. the liquor did and honestly. she was okay with it. she was doing what she's wanted to do for a while now.

her lips were merely centimeters away from his before she moved back away from him and started giggling again. "dirty! I'm so dirty!" she laughed. Her laugh almost echoed through her room. she covered her face with embarrassment, well one hand covered her face as she giggled at herself. "Iain" she started as she moved close to his face again. "Let's play a game." a smirk grew on her face.

[Iain Murray]

He nodded a little when she confessed to having a stuffed animal for comfort. It sounded plausible enough, although something lifeless could never really replace real affection. Iain didn't have any stuffed animals, hadn't had any since he was younger - who needed stuffed animals when you had a real life hugging-back brother? He knew what she meant about beds being too large, though, definitely, and he nodded. "I don't understand why these rooms have double beds to begin with," he half mused. Then again, of course, even a single bed was wide for him at times - and not just because of his lanky built. Iain had shared plenty of single beds with his brother (or other people) in his life so far.
At least Bridgette seemed to be in a good mood. She was laughing and smiling and chuckling a lot, anyway - Iain hoped her mood would rub off on him. (And on the other hand he didn't, because somehow it felt safe, feeling so terribly empty - like nothing else could be taken from him anymore, like he didn't have to worry about anything, because nothing he did mattered.) Involuntarily, he chuckled slightly at the notion of being trapped in Bridgette's arms - she was so much shorter and slighter than him, Iain couldn't imagine her actually trapping him (physically or otherwise). And then she hugged him tightly. Oh, deep down he knew she was just illustrating how she'd trap him, and had he been in a better, more playful mood, he'd have pried her hands off him to show how he wouldn't be caught, couldn't be tamed by anyone. But he wasn't in a good mood, and thus he sank into the hug for as long as it lasted, tightening his own arm around her for a moment, and reluctantly pulling away when she did.

Iain still couldn't fathom what was so amusing to her. He didn't know she'd poured a dram of firewhisky in her tea and even if he'd known he wouldn't have put two and two together because it was only a dram and that shouldn't influence people like that.. right? (Then again, maybe she just needed to unwind - she'd had a long, stressful night and then Iain had been there waiting for her being all miserable and needy.) He heard her words, but they didn't really register - simply because they were words he'd never expected from Bridgette's mouth (or mind!). She was always so- Proper. Decent.
That particular train of thought (or rather, train of confusion) was forgotten when she touched his face gently, leaned in, and Iain could feel his chest ache pleasantly at the contact. Someone close, he just needed someone close - someone to lose himself in, perhaps. Iain never felt nervous about these sort of things. He was the king of impulse decisions, after all, he didn't give these kinds of things a second thought, but Bridgette's sudden forwardness confused him for a moment and made him hesitate just for a second. A second too long, apparently, because just then (just as he'd been about to give into the urge that was whispering into the back of his mind), she pulled back, almost seemed embarrassed, even, covering her face. Iain sat up for a moment, running a hand through his hair (messing it up even more) and glanced at her as she said his name and suggested they 'play a game'.

His eyes were unreadable for a moment as he looked down on her from where he was sitting. "A game?" he echoed and moved a bit closer. Maybe it was selfish of him, he thought to himself briefly, as he leaned closer - face to face, forhead to forhead - and ran his fingers up her arm, eventually resting his hand on her shoulder to pull her to him. No, he then mused. Not selfish. He needed someone close, to touch, and if Bridgette minded, she'd tell him to stop it and he'd leave. He drew a breath and he thought he did so to speak, but then again, well- wasn't kissing a better option?
Still holding her close but by no means too tightly, Iain pressed his lips to Bridgette's. Briefly, first, testing if she'd push him off and looking into her eyes briefly (even if he was unable to read her thoughts and it wouldn't get him anywhere). When she didn't immediately kick him off or slap him, he kissed her again, longer this time and although still close-lipped, it wasn't at all chaste.
To be fair, Iain had no idea what he was doing; he wasn't planning anything or had any sort of ultimate goal in mind. He'd simply thought that he'd like to hold her close and kiss her, so he'd done just that. So far, it felt like a good decision. Loneliness still ate away at the edge of his consciousness, misery still gnawing in his bones, but his chest felt a little less hollow, didn't echo as much.

[Bridgette C. Hamett]

[blockquoteBridgette nodded listening to him talk... well more like staring at him happily. " you know, I think it's because we're adults and they expect us to sleep with other adults or it's for married couples. you know?" she slurred slightly as she giggled softly. after a little whiskey, Bridgette was gone. she was a light weight, even more so. she was being... dirty which wasn't so bad as she originally thought it would be. it did feel out of place for her.

"yes, a game silly. " pausing for a moment trying to remember where she was actually going with this. Honestly, she had actually forgotten but that didn't stop her from making up a game in her mind. well a game she thought was her own original idea but it probably wasn't. "the random game! we go back and forth either showing or telling thing embarrassing about ones self." she explained as clearly as possible. She realized how close he was to her face. a light blush over came her already slightly blushed face. goosebumps ran up her arm while his fingers ran up it. she had no idea what was going to happen It was like watching a suspense movie, you didn't know what was going to happen next but you're aching to know.

Bridgette actually froze for a moment. the moment his lips met hers, an uproar of butterflies exploded in her stomach the first time this happened. then once again she he kissed her a second time. She wasn't frozen this time though. No, she didn't want it to stop. she actually liked it, quite a lot actually. Her hands moved to his chest, lightly touching it before they slowly moved up to his collar bones.

Bridgette was filled with confusion. this could have been a dream for all she knew. if it was, it was a pretty damn good one. Of course, she kissed him back although it was close-lipped it felt wonderful for her. She moved back and smiled lightly. " about that game. I'll start" she declared happily. she moved her hand to her face and her finger to her chin, tapping it every so lightly. "I have never gotten real intimate with a man before"
]

[/blockquote]

_{so sorry! not much to go on T_T my next post will be better}

[Iain Murray]

Iain rolled his eyes a little at the idea that they were expected to have partners just because they were adults. That was rubbish and also unfair - the fact that people thought things like that made him feel pushed and trapped. Besides, it wasn't like you could really have a relationship going at Hogwarts - the kids would kill you once they found out! (And they would, Hogwarts was like a small countryside village in that aspect - gossip all over.)

He wasn't quite so sure if he was in the mood to play a game, really. Iain frowned a little, holding back from refusing outright - until she told him what sort of game she had in mind, because that sounded like a ball of icecold lead had just been violently dropped in his stomach.
No.
Just no!
Iain was definitely not in the mood to emphasise what a failure he was, that was not his idea of fun, especially not now - he felt vulnerable enough as he was. He tried to disguise it as he choked on a breath. Did she want him to embarrass himself? Didn't she want him around? The void behind his breastbone flared up in pain for a moment, deceitful and bitterly venomous. She wants you to go, but she doesn't want to say it directly. Take the hint and leave. Deep down he knew it wasn't true (or was it? he hoped it wasn't), so he took a moment to close his eyes and try to calm his breathing.

At least they could agree that they both liked kissing, right? Sure, she was surprised for a moment, but as she wasn't trying to get out of his embrace and wasn't kneeing him in the bullocks, as far as he knew that was a good sign. Iain could feel her hands move up his chest, through the light smattering of hair that was there, and found himself relaxing at the touch. This was good. This was way better than a game where he'd have to open himself up and lay himself bare.
So imagine Iain's rush of disappointment (like a bucket of cold ice in his guts, just below his navel, cold and hard and heavy), when Bridgette mentioned that game again and pulled back. Of course she doesn't want you here. Why would she? You sit outside her door and impose yourself on her- Iain shook his head, more to himself to chase the thoughts out than at Bridgette, and then decided to give this one more shot. He was so aching, aching for affection and touch and closeness - nothing that words could help with. Iain could chatter all he wanted, but he wasn't actually good with words, words were just his wall between him and the world.
He hesitated for a moment, listening to what she was saying (and honestly - how could that be true? because Bridgette was nice and good-looking, really! was she saying that to make him feel better?) and then moved closer again. "Bridge- ssh, I'd rather-" And then he decided, again, that talking about it wouldn't do anything, so he just pulled her against him, a little tighter than last time, and kissed her again.