So the thing is...

[Willow]

ooc- First post to Torrid please.

bic-

Willow had finally retreated to a safe stool in the corner of the room. Well. Not exactly the corner. But as close to the corner as she could get. In a spot where she could watch the entire room(except for the rafters, those were kind of out of vision) and not look weird. She was tempted to climb onto the stage and watch from their. Better view.

Instead she just watched, a glass of butterbeer in one hand.

It was impossible to tell what she was thinking about. Unless you knew legi(that word for mind stuff Snape says: IT"S NOT MIND READING DOUCHE) yeah that word. Then somebody would see what Willow was...thinking. Maybe.

Right now she was thinking about every problem she had ever had and every problem she might have. Romulus was on a bunch of them. Top five on the problem she might have list. Dammit. Why did everything have to be so freaking complicated?

She sighed and sat with her legs hugged to her chest, somehow managing not to fall off the stool. The butterbeer glass was cold against her palm, and she took a quick drink. Mhmm. Better. The warmth filled her.

Now she just needed some freaking chocolate and she'd be all set.

[TJ]

[Willow]

Willow squealed, starting as arms wrapped around her, almost dropping her glass of butterbeer. Her heart skipped a beat and she shut her eyes for a beat. Torrid Nightshadow. Oh boy. The lycan slid off the stool, turned around and returned the hug, plastering a smile on her face.

She really, really didn't want to tell him.

But he needed to know.

It would have been nice if she had told him before, in the Greenhouse. Then the whole thing would be over, and she wouldn't be forced into this awkward situation. Stepping back from him, she swallowed and tried to smile again. The little butterflies dancing in her stomach didn't help.

Silver-green eyes flickering, her gaze dropped to the ground. "The pretty face isn't very welcome anymore," she whispered. Her skin was paler than normal, and her hand was trembling. Willow grabbed the stool for support. Why did this bother her so much? Nobody else had really reacted harshly to it.

Then again....Muryllis had asked her to leave the Grounds. He wasn't harsh about it, but all the same....Willow sighed. "I gotta tell you something, Torrid. You can freak out...If you want. I'll understand."

[TJ]

[Willow]

She managed to hug him back without feeling to guilty. Fenrir wanted them to leave all humanity behind. How far would she have to go? How did you explain to somebody you loved you could smell their blood, their flesh, and feel a pang that wasn't comfort? It was beyond comfort.

Willow took a step away from him, out of his reach, and sat back down on the stool, fingers wrapped around her drink. Small comfort in the warm liquid. Dammit, it didn't help he was so sweet, and worried about her. Gahh.

Watching him for a beat, she debated on how to start. The beginning, my dear Willow? No. The beginning would be too much. What would he think of her if he knew everything? Except he was probably going to ask. Willow shrugged the thought away, taking a deep breath.

"Alright. Well." She was practically twiddling her thumbs around the cup. "May of last year, I went into Fenrir's Woods." Willow wanted to make it plain she had chosen this, that Fenrir wasn't at fault(not really), without sounding crazy. That would probably be the most difficult. "I was looking for Fenrir. Sparky Cobalt followed me in, he tried to get me to leave."

"We got..harassed, I guess, by a Nephilim. She wanted to give me to the lycans. She didn't know why I was there." Memories rushed across her face. The pain. The fright, the worry for her classmate. The scorn at the man Exvind, who had tried to tell her things she didn't believe anymore.

"Fenrir showed up, and bargained with the Nephilim. I told him what I wanted. Why I was there." The pale, grey-green orbs flickered up to Torrid's face, judging his reaction. "He agreed, but the Nephilim took off with Sparky. He said he wouldn't take up my request until he got Sparky back. He did."

She paused for breath. "So I went back. I found Fenrir." She left out Romulus. Ohgawd, she'd been cheating on Torrid. Technically. Well. To her, that's what it felt like. I'm a horrible person, Willow thought.

Well duh, she knew that.

"I asked him to sire me, Torrid." She took another breath. "I'm a lycan."

[TJ]

[/i], he whispered mentally, inwardly praying that she would just tell him.

The girl backed away from the Ravenclaw towards her seat. He wondered why she distanced herself from him. He knew that she knew he cared for her. He knew she knew he would never intentionally hurt her. So why was she so scared? What could she have possibly done that would cause such a tremendous response? Was she afraid of an anticipated reaction?

And then she told him.

She gave a backstory of what had happened last May, and told her of her encounter with Fenrir and a mysterious nephilm. She told him that she had gone into Fenrir’s Woods, looking for the murdering criminal. She said she was harassed by a nephilm. Based on his encounter with a nephilm, he knew harass was an understatement. She explained that she had to save the new Muggles Studies professor, Cobalt, from the nephilm, and brought him back to Fenrir. And then she told him the thing that emotionally killed him.

She said she was a lycan.

A flood of emotions overwhelmed the shattered teenager. Distress, disbelief, trepidation, despondency, betrayal, grief. He looked into the eyes of the girl he loved, Willow Michelle Tylers, and subconsciously begged her to tell him that she was just kidding around. To tell him that it wasn’t true. But the more he internally denied what she had confessed the more he realized that it was the truth. He tried so hard to take it in, but he felt so overwhelmed with the truth. He felt so deceived in the fact that she never told him. They had known each other so long, interacted for so long. Willow and Torrid, in front of the Greenhouse in the early months of the year, had professed a love for each other. Did she really ever care about him?

He felt pure despondency. He promised himself that no matter what she said, he would still love her. He still loved her very much, but he wasn’t so sure that she had ever even loved him back. If she had loved him she would have told him. He could have accepted it; perhaps, if he knew that she trusted him and loved him. But she had hid the secret from him. He felt stabbed in the back with the shattered fragments of a broken heart, like he was thrown into a pit of despair and anguish, like a thousand arrows of fire had struck him in the back. Why hadn’t she told him? Why did she want to become a lycan?

Next he felt anger. Not anger towards Willow, but anger towards Fenrir. How could he consciously take a girl’s life among human mortals, even if she desired it, and turn it into the life of a lycan? How could he rest, knowing that forever more, she would be hunted and wounded and pained and hurt by people such as the Black Forest Church? She would never be able to rest knowing she was safe. She would never know the feeling of serene peace. She would never have a true home. Sure, she would have a family within the lycan pack, but would she have someone she could truly trust? Someone she could truly confide in? Someone who’s shoulder she could cry on? Sure, she was tough, but like all good people, she had feelings. And who would she share these feelings with? The lycans were connected by blood, not by choice. She was handed the life of a fugitive through the bite of a wolfman. She was still very much the love of Torrid’s life, she was still a person, an individual, but she would be forever damned by the common society’s viewpoint. He felt so betrayed…

Withholding the truth was a sign that he was never that significant other in her life. Based on those few things that cut through Torrid’s heart, he really didn’t know her anymore. What else had she not told him? He confided in her his dreams, his aspirations, his fears, his emotions, his life. Why couldn’t she do the same? Why wasn’t she the girl he thought she was? Why did he have to go through so much pain?

And finally he felt hopelessness. Was this what she wanted? Did she want to live this life? Did this make her happy? What hurt most was that she didn’t trust him. She should have told him. If this was what really made her happy, the boy would never stop her. He wanted to do what was best for her. A single tear collected within the his soft, brown irises. Forming into a crystalline pearl, it spilt down the side of his face. If this made her happy… a life without him... he knew he had to let her free.

“Why didn’t you tell…”

He kept all his emotions in, the only trace of it the single tear of pain trickling down the side of his jaw. His face was solemn, almost without the motive for life. His voice was so soft, like a fragile sheet of paper that could rip with the slightest pressure. His usually strong, confident voice was completely foreign. It sounded so hollow and empty. His heart was completely broken. He stopped for a moment, knowing the true question that he knew he needed to ask. To somehow, if possible, find peace. He needed to know if this decision was completely her conscious choice. He needed to know if this was the life she wanted.

“… does this make you happy, Willow?”
[/ul]

[Willow]

She read the emotions blurring across his face, flickering in his eyes. The knot in her chest tightened until she could barely breath. But it was his voice that really killed her. There was nothing of Torrid left in that voice, like one little sentence had drawn him out and locked him away. She looked everywhere but at him.

Everything seemed to have been flushed away. The betrayal was there, in the open now. This was why she hadn't wanted to tell him. The pain Shadonious had caused her was barely anything compared to this. Maybe because she had been thinking about this, dreading this, for weeks. It was just as bad as she had imagined, and she could practically read his thoughts on his face. Why, why, why?

The lycan bit her lip, finally managing to look up at him. What could she say? How did you apologize for stabbing someone in the back? Willow resisted the urge to hug him, although it was what she wanted. Her comfort wasn't important right now. God, he was about to cry. Willow blinked furiously.

I will not cry.

"Why didn't you tell..."

Her thoughts flashed back to the Greenhouse. She loved him, that was why. And some little piece of her knew everyone wouldn't except her new lifestyle as readily as some people had. That little piece knew it would be Torrid who would act like someone had twisted a knife in his chest. He hated her, didn't he? Willow couldn't tell. What a laugh. Since being a lycan, she had been able to read people easily by their scents and body language, and now she couldn't even read the most important person in her life.

Willow knew the real reason she didn't want to hug him, even brush his arm. It was fear of total rejected, fear of his fear of her, that kept her from physical contact. She said what she had been thinking without pausing to wonder what he would think of this. Would he think she was lying?

"Because I love you. And I didn't want you to hate me. When you left, I thought you weren't ever coming back. I didn't think you would ever have to find out. I thought we could both move on in ignorant little bliss." A pained smile rose on her features, and her eyes were watering. She wiped her eyes, chuckling. "I'm so stupid. Nothing ever works out the way you think it will."

Then the question of all ages, similiar to the one Shadonious had asked.

No. I don't know them.

Willow's voice had more emotion now, real passion. "I have a family. They're not exactly...traditional, in the way a family should be. I'm never going to bring a friend over to visit. But I love them. I belong there, Torrid. They're my pack, my family. It's number two on my happiest moment's list." Her lips formed a twisted smile, daring him to guess number one.

It was him. The Greenhouses were her favorite place in the world now, all because of the memories she had there. "There is no one to blame but me, Torrid. I'll understand if you don't want to see me again."

I won't be happy. But I'll understand.

Torrid's expression of betrayal was a hundred times more painful than Shadow's fear. Shadonious's feelings had a base, but Torrid's was more complicated, deeper. It was easy to hate a monster when the the monster had stabbed you in the back.

[TJ]

[/i]

She told him that she loved him, but the more he heard it the more it stung in his ears. He wasn't sure if he could believe what she was saying anymore. If he had something to tell her, he would have said it, because he loved her. Regardless of what happened, he would always do what was best for her. His heart felt like it had stopped beating. He wanted to stop breathing, to stop living. If only it could ease the pain that he was enduring.

Willow's voice grew with passion as she told him about her lycan pack. The intense emotion behind her voice showed happiness. A twisted form of serenity within the collision. He immediately recognized the love for her family in her voice.

She really loves them, doesn't she? the boy thought, holding back tears. And still, even after all the betrayal, he knew in his heart that he still wanted what was best for her. He knew he still loved her. He was angry, shocked, betrayed, emotional, despaired, shattered. But rising amongst those feelings was still love. A very fragile love. But it was still evident.

“There is no one to blame but me, Torrid. I'll understand if you don't want to see me again."

He considered what she had said for what felt like hours. He weighed his emotions that seemed to swirl around his mind. He felt so weak for being so emotional. He still loved her, but he didn't know if he could forgive her. She had stabbed him in the back with silent lies. If she had just told him sooner. “I don't know if I can forgive you,” Torrid said in a hollow voice, tears held back. “I feel so... betrayed. Why couldn't you have just told me? How could you not trust me?” Another crystalline tear ran down his face. “Why would you lie to me?”

The teenager brushed the tear away, staring into the girl's silver-green eyes. He saw pain in her eyes, but he wasn't sure if could trust himself anymore. He wasn't sure of much at all.

“I... think I'm going to have to think about it. I'm not sure what I believe in anymore... I need some time.”

"Cool," TJ said, "I never used it for drawing purposes. I guess it's funny how as soon as we come to school, spells are used for everything." TJ smiled and rummaged through his school sack. Reaching for a charcoal-colored sketchbook, TJ flipped through a few pages and showed the Gryffindor girl a sketchy portrait of himself. "Heh," TJ said, "I draw too, if I get time. But you're amazing." The girl looked friendly, but TJ assumed she was new and needed some friends. He was just like that when he first started.

"Willow? Hi, I'm Torrid, but peeps just call me TJ. And Morgan Pendragon, the Ravenclaw Prefect, just calls me Teej. Anyways, I really like you're drawings. You have some real talent." TJ smiled. The girl was an excellant artist, and even her sketches looked real. Whistling in an impressed tone, the Ravenclaw boy looked at the sketches and drawings before smiling again.

"Thanks." She smiled shyly. "I haven't met Morgan yet, I heard she's real funny. Teej huh? I think I'll just stick with T.J., wouldn't want her mad at me for stealing her nickname for you," Willow said. She fingered the edge of his sketch. "It's really good! I can't do people at all, and I thought I'd drawn everything when I got my letter."

"I guess I do use magic alot," she said. "I guess it's because before I came here, I didn't...well, I'm Muggleborn, see," she explained quietly. She darkened a line there, then siphoned away another smudge. "Do you paint?" she asked, looking back up at him, eyes dark with curiosity. She liked him already, and was loosening up much faster than she had with Silvain.

The boy looked at her at second glance before looking towards the door. He felt hesitant to leave, but he couldn't bear standing in front of her. He could barely hold back the emotions that were coursing through his veins. Turning around, he headed towards the door. But as he walked away, he looked sadly into her eyes one last time.[/ul]