 ~ Mrs. Steve Harrington ~ Claimed by Bits ❤️ ~ Queen of Typos ❄ Magical Mosh Pit ❄
Now that the excitement of his Sorting had receded somewhat, it gave space for his nerves and uncertainty to return. As he approached the Table, Baek’s pace slowed. It was packed there. How was he supposed to make himself known? Did he even want to be known, now that he thought of it? The eleven year old suddenly felt incredibly small. He also felt like running to his eomeoni who obviously was not present at Hogwarts. There was now a smidge of shame as he thought about running - which… made sense that hadn’t been Sorted into Gryffindor. They didn’t run from their problems or fears really, did they?
Baek huffed out a small breath, his heart hammering away in his chest. Erm… where did he sit? Preferably some part of the Table that wasn’t overwhelmingly crowded. Maybe if he sat by that guy with his face planted on the table {Nyle} there wouldn't be much conversation. Was he okay? Was he asleep?
The firstie gingerly took a seat beside him, fearing that he might accidentally disturb him. “Now can’t be a good time to nap, could it?’’ he said more to himself than to anyone else. |