Girls' Bathroom https://i.postimg.cc/769wtrv2/bathroom-banner.jpg GIRLS ONLY! STAY OUT, POTTER AND WEASLEY! The funny inscription etched on this door with a potions knife reminds us all of the great deeds Harry Potter and his friends performed in this very bathroom. Today it is fortunately no longer nearly as shifty as it used to be. Nevertheless, this bathroom is still haunted by the one and only Moaning Myrtle and, if you happen to speak Parseltongue, can gain access to an empty Chamber of Secrets. |
4 my gr8 m8 k8 <3 Days were elapsing slowly lately and though Kinsay wished she could whine, every day blurred together so effortlessly, that it had become nearly impossible to know which days to complain about in the first place. And while she was usually bursting at the seams with eager curiosity, Kinsay found herself drifting with the blurred days too. Listless and removed, her thoughts somewhere else entirely. Still, she practiced a few repetitive routines. Ones that took little thought once they had become habit. See: The cautious way she stepped up to the sink, careful to avoid looking at herself in the mirror. That was important. She didn't much care for her own reflection these days, it only upset her. Twisting the faucet, she quietly washed her hands in the basin — her hands turning red under the heat, fingers beginning to wrinkle and prune. |
*SNIFF* …….*SNIFF* There were sniffles coming from the third stall from the right now that the sink was running. V quickly did her best to wipe her eyes as she slid off from sitting with her knees pulled up on the toilet. She exited the stall and tried to look as caaaaasual as possible washing her hands next to Miss Queen of Hogwarts herself, Kinsey James. What a bombshell. What a star. V looked at Kinsey in the mirror and blushed slightly. |
Even had the sound of running water not been enough to mask the sniffles coming from the third stall, Kinsay's attention was elsewhere. But only until she looked down at her hands, noticed how red they were, and realized how badly her skin was burning. !!!!!!! Wincing, she pulled her hands into her chest, accidentally looking up at the mirror in the process and noticing the younger girl peeking her way. In spite of her embarrassment, Kinsay rallied, gifting the girl a gracious smile before stopping the faucet. But when she recognized a detail she had so nearly missed, her features softened. "Is everything okay?" She asked gently, without any expectations. The bathroom was her hideaway too, it always had been. |
The tone of Kinsay James' voice was nice. It was soft and soothing, and V knew she knew. Kinsay knew she had been crying. "Am I that bad an actor?" she asked just as softly before rubbing her eyes, probably making them puffier. And she sighed. Sadly. "It's not like anything is horrible. I just don't like being a teenager. It's hard," she said with her shoulders slumped. V lifted her head to glance at her reflection and tuck some hair behind her ears, something that was becoming a nervous habit for her. Her very pointy nose remained a POINT of contention for her, and she looked away to avoid critiquing anything else about herself in her head. If she let herself get too far, she'd find fault in eeeeeveerything she saw, and she wasn't in the mood to deal with those thoughts right now. She was already SAD as heck. What didn't help was looking over at Kinsay and admiring her for how BEAUTIFUL she was, and feeling even smaller. Could she shrink up into nothing? She wanted to. |
Kinsay shook her head. "No, but. I've been there. That's all." She was sure that's why she recognized it. Her eyes really weren't that puffy. Nothing a little concealer couldn't hide. Kins would offer hers if need be. She always kept extra on her. You never know when it'd come in handy, ok? She listened as V explained, reaching to absently play with her necklace. "I get that," again she offered the younger girl a small smile, one laced with understanding. "Is it, like, one big thing or a million small ones?" To this day, Kins wasn't sure what was better. Though, these days, it felt like it was constantly a stream of a million big things. That's why she didn't say something cliche like 'it gets better' or 'it'll pass' ... because sometimes it didn't get better and it didn't pass. But she knew that saying that wouldn't help either. Questions were always better. They made it harder to assume and sometimes they helped distract, too. It was already helping Kinsay tenfold, see? |
As Victoria thought about how to answer that question, she looked from her reflection to Kinsay’s fingers playing with her necklace, to her own hands wringing themselves near her stomach. “I…I wouldn’t say it’s a MILLION small things, but it’s a bunch of them. And random emotions! And emotions that don’t even make sense! Like out of nowhere just THINGS,” which wasn’t specific at all, but V didn’t know if she wanted to share the super specific things with Kinsey or not. She didn’t know Kinsay that well, and so she simply sighed a little as she looked back at her reflection. “I’m assuming at your old age that it doesn’t get any better. Right?” and cue a pout. Kinsay was like 18 right? 17? Whatever. Whatever age Kinsay was, it was old and properly adult almost. |
Kins dropped her necklace, feeling somewhat embarrassed .... only to play with her rings instead. Restless fingers. They taunted her. But anyway. That wasn't important. They were talking about V. "... Things?" She was trying to understand, she really was. But. But things? It made so little sense. Kins tried her very best not to make a face that revealed that though. That wouldn't be very nice and Jameses are incessantly polite, ok? Except. Except when V called her old, Kins did make a face. Briefly. Like just a millisecond. But still. Old? Her parents were old. Professor Hernadez was old. Kinsay James was seventeen and forever young still, ok? But she was so, so, so polite. So she only cleared her throat softly, "Um, yeah. It's. It's still not great, but, like, you learn how to deal with things better, I guess," she shrugged, ever-thoughtful, twisting her rings. "The practice helps." Not nearly enough. But she was trying to be encouraging. |
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