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Post by reese on Oct 6, 2008 14:47:34 GMT 1
The idea of people calling her ma’am when they were just a few years younger than she was, still felt weird. It was a good thing to know though, that a lather large part of the students were polite and decent. Yet not having an informal ‘band’ with them felt still a little weird but Reese knew it was part of the job. Hogwarts wasn’t the same for her as it had been a few years ago, she was the adult now. Not the little sister of troublemakers Dane Matthews and Tyson Tanner.
“I’ll use a simple healing spell this time to make the bruising go away but it will still feel a little sore. Just not so much as it does now, alright?” Kristian would probably still feel that a bruise had been present on his face for another day or so but none would be able to actually tell there had been one in the first place except for Kristian and Reese themselves.
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Post by kris on Oct 6, 2008 15:10:20 GMT 1
"Yes ma'am. Thank you ma'am." Kristian was happy that Reese hadn't asked about the cause of the bruise. Yet, at least. She looked like she wanted to know, and he was pretty sure that if she did end up asking him, he would tell her the truth. She sounded and seemed like the kind of person that would keep a secret.
And with her son around, it must mean that she didn't have the easiest life herself. Maybe she would understand where he was coming from? Kris could only hope so. Still, he wasn't going to tell her anything if she didn't ask. After all, it wasn't some stupid brawl or someone picking on him that had caused the bruise on his cheek. It was a huge secret that he had never told anyone.
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Post by reese on Oct 6, 2008 16:21:09 GMT 1
“Just call me Mack, Kristian. I’m not that old just yet to be called ma’am. Or at least I hope so.” She wasn’t really that old enough either be called Momma by her two year old son either but somehow it did seem fitting one way or another. Reaching back for her wand Reese that was tucked away in her jeans pocket she was glad that aprons and such weren’t really mandatory. Or maybe they were but Reese wasn’t the type of girl to actually start wearing one. Unless she really needed to but hopefully that would never be the case.
With a quick flick of her wand and a few soft muttered words, the bruising on Kristian’s face instantly vanished. Lowering her wand Reese took a little step back to give the boy some room to move. “There, all patched up again.”
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Post by kris on Oct 6, 2008 16:43:39 GMT 1
Kristian nodded at her request to call her Mack, registering that it was her last name rather than her first that she went by. He had always liked his own first name, since it was similar to his mothers name, instead of his second name, that came from his father. He bit his lip, remembering how cruel his father had always been after he found out that his only son was a wizard.
It wasn't the first time he was hit, but it was one of the only times where he could let the bruise disappear. The fact that it would still hurt didn't matter to him. Bruises and broken bones were nothing new, though it was a strange thing that he felt safer and more protected at the club than he had been at home. "Thank you Miss...Mack." It wasn't ma'am anymore, but he still cringed a little.
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Post by reese on Oct 6, 2008 17:50:20 GMT 1
Reese watched the sudden change in demeanor Kristian went through after he had nodded. “Are you okay Kristian?” she asked, after seeing him bite his lip like that. He really was a closed person as far as she could tell from the few minutes they had spend together so far. Usually the people who came into the wing weren’t this quiet or looking so tense like the Raven did right now.
“You’re welcome.” The last thing Reese wanted to do was push him in telling her what had happened but she couldn’t let him leave without trying to get him to explain where that bruise had come from. Shoving her wand back into her jeans pocket again she hopped onto the bed across from the one Kristian was sitting on.
She smiled faintly when he called her Miss Mack. Oh well, it was better than ma’am any day right? “Do you need help Kristian?” she suddenly asked softly, looking at him with her hands folded in her lap. As a nurse it was her job to demand an explanation of how he got hurt like that. As someone who recognized the effects of violence she knew demanding things usually didn’t help much. For all she knew he had been in a fight over a girl, got chased through the school by some bullies or maybe there was something else going on.
It could be something minor or it could be something big. Which one it was Reese did not know but she wasn’t going to let him leave without trying to get him to talk to her.
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Post by kris on Oct 6, 2008 18:42:02 GMT 1
“Are you okay Kristian?”
Kristian looked up at her, biting his bottom lip again and wondering whether or not he wanted to answer that question. She was being nice probably, not caring what kind of story he would make up, but he didn't want to lie to her. Still, the story about his home life was a far easier story to explain than the one about his stripping.
"I'm...I was just thinking of the past." He glanced at her, then looked back down at the floor, at his neatly tied shoe-laces. "I'd have to say I'm more used to the bruises than I should be ma'am."
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Post by reese on Oct 6, 2008 19:14:59 GMT 1
In her whole nursing career, which wasn’t all that long just yet, Kristian wasn’t the first who mentioned something about being more used to bruises than he should be. It saddened her, knowing that Kristian probably wouldn’t be the last one either. And it angered her at the same time, maybe even more so now that she herself was a mother.
“What do you mean by that?” Kristian was trying to avoid the subject, or at least trying to talk around it. That much was clear to her. Reese could not by the life of her understand how someone, or perhaps multiple people, could see the need or find pleasure in hurting a person with whatever reason they had for it. Not that such a said reason would be valid, it never was.
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Post by kris on Oct 7, 2008 13:51:11 GMT 1
“What do you mean by that?”
Kristian looked up at her, a little surprised. How could she not understand what he meant by that? Did she really want him to spell it out for her? Why? What could she possibly do with that information that she couldn't have done before? Still, he found himself needing, and partially wanting, to answer that question.
"My father could be a violent drunk, ma'am" Kris hated talking about his father. Whenever the subject was brought up, a shiver ran down his spine and he remembered that feeling of being paralyzed, of being just a little boy with no way to stop him. Sometimes he wondered if he would have done something, had his father not died. Not even Louis knew about all this. He had merely told him that his father had died some years ago, and left it at that.
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