" _ so [ ORDiNARY ] {{ schu |

[Cillian Malakar]

[/b]” he cursed as he noticed the time – 9:02. He had been sitting there for two hours, and had only got done two-thirds of his first paper. Wiping his sweaty hand on his light denim jeans, he let out an aggravated sigh. Why couldn’t he keep his concentration? Maybe the fact that he hadn’t had breakfast, or that two nights ago he met up with his brother in the room of requirement, or the current girl that was on his mind. Who, one may ask – well, if you don’t know, then something’s wrong. Anyways, it was probably a mix of the three that had broke Cillian’s concentration.

The sixth year sat back in his chair and ran both hands through his shaggy hair. Shaking his head – as if shaking the thoughts away – he turned back to his homework. After two calculations, he noticed that there was a human-shaped shadow hovering over the edge of his parchment.
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[Schuyler DePaul]

She rolled her shoulder just slightly, transferring the weight of her messenger bag—even if just for a second—to another part of her back. Though she was often silent when the discussions came up in the common room, Schuyler had to agree with the complaint of books being too heavy or abundant, even. But, then again, she had taken a few more classes than was required, so perhaps her opinion on the matter was biased. Either way, the girl still had a potions essay to finish before the weekend was up. Thus, her footsteps grew slower as she reached the door to the quiet yet crowded library.

She brushed a lock of wavy blonde hair from her face, blue eyes searching for an empty table, or at least one claimed by someone she knew fairly well. Schuyler ducked her head slightly as an older boy brushed past her petite form, and moved quickly from the entry way to the large room, heading off to where she knew the books on potions to be held. It didn’t take long for the Ravenclaw girl to find what she was looking for; she’d had the same book out when she’d met Anastasia here a few days before. Tucking the heavy thing under one arm, she rested the thick spine expertly against her thin hip. Reluctantly, she left the shelves to look for somewhere to sit, resisting the urge to just set up camp on the floor.

Schu looked around before spotting a semi-familiar form sitting alone at one of the round tables. Cillian Malakar, his name most likely the reason he wasn’t being bothered by any of the other students in the library. She neared the older boy slowly, hovering beside him as she debated whether or not to ask if she could share the space. She pulled at the sleeve of her navy blue sweater, thoughts interrupted when the Slytherin boy seemed to notice her presence. Her blue eyes widened slightly with anxiety as she opened her mouth to speak, shifting her weight once or twice. “Uhm … could I sit with you?

[/color]” she squeaked out, brushing a hand through her hair. “I … I mean, there aren’t any tables open, but if you’re waiting for someone, I could…[/color]” She was about to suggest she go back to the common room instead, but she had caught herself rambling.[/size][/blockquote]

[Cillian Malakar]

[/i]ways… He looked up to see the familiar beauty, and a half smile crossed his face. “Uhhh…” ‘Smooth, real smooth, Cillian…’ Damn.

“No.. yes..” He said as he took a glance back to his paper. “Wait, I mean…[/color]” Double damn. “I mean, no, this table isn’t reserved for anyone … and yes, you can sit here …” Cillian let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair again, mentally slapping himself. “Fuck. Have a seat, Schuyler…[/color]”

Sitting up, he pulled the three books that were surrounding him and his homework—Arithmancy, Potions, and Transfiguration, along with the Ancient Runes in front of him—from the table space in front of the chair Schu was shadowing. A shy smile crossed his face, and then that tell-tale blush came next.

“Potions, eh?[/color]” he said, motioning to the book in her hands. The Slytherin nodded his head toward his own pile of books, the same potions book adorning the top of the stack. Evidently, the fifth years and the sixth years were working from the same book. ‘Well no shit, Cillian. Good observation, dumbass,’ he thought. ‘Damn nerves. Stupid rambling…’[/color][/size][/ul]