Susan Bones (gotabonetopick) wrote in riddikulus,
@ 2008-01-05 21:49:00

Who: Susan Bones and Garrick Summerby
When: 4ish, Friday September 26th
Where: Quidditch Pitch
Summary: Susan is hitting some balls around and Garrick finds her.
Rating: G-PG?
Status: In Progress.

Susan felt the need to let off some steam, perhaps it was just pent up annoyance or anger but it was something. She was on the quidditch pitch just before dinner hitting charmed balls that would come back after she hit them. The buldgers were locked up and too much of a hassle to get back into the box when you were done with them, so she settled for this. On her broom she flew around the pitch hitting the balls that came her way, she was growing exceedingly warm and was even glistening with the faint appearance of sweat. Susan had been at this for an hour at least, and she was starting to slow down and feel a tad sore. Susan didn’t expect anyone to be around so she had no one to perform for.

Her mind was on Justin and this whole situation she was in. Yes they were talking and it was nice, but she was worried about this moving slow thing. On top of that there was Laura and she was sure she was trying to do something with Justin, or was she just being a jealous person. Madley was a small issue, as her biggest one was getting to understand what this moving slow meant. Susan wanted to be with Justin for sure, but was she what he really wanted?

As she hit the last ball she groaned, and tilted her broom down to guide herself back to the pitch floor. She hopped off her broom found her wand and called the balls back. They all plopped down on the ground around her, all ten of them. Susan was panting a bit as she wiped her hand along her forehead and found her bottle of water taking a sip. She pulled off her sweater she was wearing leaving her in a small t-shirt and stretchy tight fitting pants. This was what she was often in for quidditch practice but rarely was it without the sweater since she was never a fan of the chest she possessed, but she was growing to like it more.

With a heavy sigh she sat down on the ground of the pitch and then lay there looking up at the sky. Finally it had stopped raining and seemed to be staying that way.

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summerby
2008-01-06 08:20 am UTC (link)

It wasn’t an unusual sight, seeing Garrick eating— like a lot of young, growing boys, his stomach seemed permanently empty, unless something extremely far from scrumptious was being offered on the table. Dinner may have only been just around the corner, but when he walked into the pitch, figure tall and softened by the shoulder-sway of his nonchalant stride, he handled his broom in one loose hand and a half-eaten pear in the other. For him, the day had been a simple one— classes, a missed unofficial lunchtime practice with a few of his Quidditch team-mates due to his being kept in at Transfig, an obligatory warning about his grades from an unimpressed professor. Regardless of the weather, he wanted to get that practise in; every missed practise was a missed opportunity to improve, after all, and Garrick couldn’t tolerate that.

But still, underneath the hair that he had long given up trying to remove from off his forehead and away from his eyes, the flesh of his eyebrows was furrowed into an absent, unworried frown.

— Crunch. He took a bite of his pear. A large one; Garrick Summerby never ate half-heartedly. The muscles in his jaw knotted routinely as they snapped with each bite, and the sols of his sneakers, safely unbranded by an insignia from any Muggle clothing company, chuffed to a bland halt on the flat ground. Blue eyes peered downward from the sky, which had been where the most of his attention had been focused beforehand, and immediately focused upon the girlish figure in the distance.

Without a change in expression and with a return of his simple onward-march, Garrick raised his broom a fraction higher in a casual wave. “Bones,” he called out, around the mouthful of pear yet to be digested. “How’s it going, huh?”

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gotabonetopick
2008-01-07 07:06 am UTC (link)

Susan thought she heard something, but she didn’t know what it was. She leaned up onto her elbows and looked over to see Garrick. With a smile on her face she waved with her hands. “Hey Summerby,” she said with a genuinely warm tone. “Oh it is alright, just blowing off some steam, or at least I was.” She said as she tilted her head from side to side, she was still tense, but at least she had blown off the steam.

As she sat there she realized that she was not as covered as she usually was and went about pulling her sweater back in, despite how warm she felt. She rubbed the back of her neck as she went back to fully sitting. Her eyes on him looking over him, “So what you doing out here?” She innocently questioned as she rolled her shoulders.

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summerby
2008-01-07 07:37 am UTC (link)

Bits of pear was swallowed, only to have been replaced by a fresh portion— Garrick’s teeth dug into the fruit with a casual but sharp precision, even while the corners of his lips managed small upward tilts; a polite return of the friendly warmth he received from his house-mate. “Hmm?— oh, yeah, I hear you,” he said, more quietly by then, as he had crossed a good measure of distance between he and her and didn’t have to exert his voice so much. He scanned the pitch over, and then the girl herself— and if there was anything odd about her lack of dress, that she was already in the middle of remedying, the boy didn’t seem to have noticed it. He glanced at her simply, up and down, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

He stepped to a second stop, then. He took a moment to properly remove any residual pear from his mouth before speaking— he coughed lightly against the back of his hand, and then let his head tip up in an easy nod. “What am I doing? Just came out for a fly,” he answered her, the broom held still at his side. One of his broad shoulders shrugged, and standing as he was in a pair of track-pants and a plain white t-shirt, he painted a pretty typical picture of himself indeed.

“Blowin’ off some stem, huh— what, forgot to finish an essay or something?” It was an absent and casual question; Garrick was hardly one to coodle when someone seemed to have a problem. He glanced away, sympathetic and dismissive at that thought. “Well, it’s all good, Susan. This place is always good for ventin’, I’ve found.”

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gotabonetopick
2008-01-07 08:29 am UTC (link)

Susan sat with her arms resting on her knees as she looked up at him almost squinting. She looked back down at her feet before glancing back up to Garrick. That pear he was eating looked good. This was how Susan realized she was hungry and it had been plaguing her for at least half an hour already.

As she heard him mention an essay she laughed a little. “I wish it was an essay that I forgot to do.” Susan awkwardly chuckled again as she chewed upon her bottom lip. Her eyes darted back up to him. “Yes, it is a good place to vent. I just wish I didn’t have this particular something to vent.” Susan sighed as she moved her hands from her knees and rested with her arms behind her. Susan’s feet started to rhythmically move as she smirked up at him.

“Do you have any more of those pears?” She asked curiously, because boy did it look tasty. She was actually watching his lips because she was tantalized by the mere concept of a pear.

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summerby
2008-01-07 08:51 am UTC (link)

Susan’s reply, vague as it had been, took a while to register with Garrick. While someone with more tact would’ve taken her cryptic words as a cue to change the subject, or say something mildly encouraging before moving on, he quirked her a perplexed look from behind the hair that obscured his vision in a way that he had gotten well used to. It didn’t even impair him anymore, or bug him; when his fringe got in his face. His silence was only brief— and his odd study of her unblinking but hardly intense— before he glanced sideways, as if to shoot a look to some invisible bystander, and then looked back at Susan again.

“What do you mean, then? What’s your particular something?” Mouth emptied, Garrick pressed his lips together in a half-pitying gesture, and he gestured softly toward Susan with a little point of his broom. “Y’parents? Heard something about arranged marriage shite the other day; I hope none of that’s on your back, Bones.”

The pear? At that request, the boy’s look turned blank for just an instant— just an instant!— before he quirked her a half-hearted but pleasant, crooked smirk. “Yeah, I got one. I don’t grab anything in ones. Better to have too much than too little, right?”

He carried a small bag over one shoulder, small enough to have not been obviously visible until the moment he’d carefully thrown his broom down and was shrugging the strap down his arm in order to grab it and extend it out. His wand was in there, as well as a second pear, a pair of rolled-up sandwiches and a water-bottle. Clearly, Garrick was wise when it came to food portions and his stomach’s capacity; always take in pairs.

“Ain’t all that bad. A bit sour, but that’s the way I prefer ‘em.”

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