Cait Sayer
Ghost
Hufflepuff Ghost
I may be dead... but I'm still pretty!
Posts: 29
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Post by Cait Sayer on Oct 20, 2009 23:00:30 GMT 1
Cait felt some sort of indignation as Abe faltered. She knew he would have laughed at her. Or something equally as disbelieving. Normally she did do something to deserve the shouts that she received. She really did know what it felt like to be the Boy Who Cried Wolf, at least she was getting through to somebody. There was only so much she could take. Great, poor Idris, massive shock for him. It’s not like it wasn’t a bit of a huge surprise for her too. But nobody’s thinking about that are they? No. It’s Cait’s fault, she must have done something.
”I don’t know,” she said. There was more of a chance that Abraham would believe her, but she still looked at him with the most pleading look on her face that she could muster. What she would give for them to just burst out laughing now and be merry and have a good time and just forget that she’d been dead and gone and be happy that she was alive. Instead of questioning her non-existent motives. ”I was coming to mess around. Couldn’t. Walked into a wall. Owh. What the fuck? Shit. No way!” she jazz-handed to emphasise her point. They were about the only words she could describe the whole ordeal in. Without screaming at the top of her lungs for a good few minutes and curling up in the corner. Because seriously, what the hell was going on?
Cait rolled her eyes at Idris. Solution to everything. she thought to herself. Training her eyes on him and him only. Only did they move when she felt a sharp jab in the soft tissue of her shoulder. A few short syllables of non-descript words left Cait’s mouth, ”Owh,” she whinged before the smile on Abe’s face spread to her own. Finally somebody wasn’t freaking out about this. And it dawned on her, she really was there. This wasn’t a dream. If it was the sharp prodding would have woken her. It really took a lot of effort not to break into tears, out of shock or hell even happiness.
And suddenly the ground was no longer under her feet. The much taller professor hugging her like she was about to disappear again at any second, causing a brief rush of air between the converse she’d acquired and the stone floor of Idris’ office. She couldn’t hep but cling onto him, fisting the back of his clothing in her tiny hands. Contact. It felt so good. So needed. After all this time and the first person to really touch her hadn’t been the one person she’d wanted. Right now however, she’d settle for anything. Even if it was being held under scrutiny of her usual partner in crime, ”You think I didn’t give myself one? I’ve no idea what’s going on her. This was nothing to do with me,” she doubted he’d believe her. They ever did when she told the truth.
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