An Abandoned Classroom

[-growls playfully because he's Awkward Puppy and it's all he can really do. Timewarp he's practiced a lot- OHMAHCHEESECAKEGOD I've done it. I've growled. Grrrr I are WolfyJr.!! -walks around in a mummy fashion-]

[*wants to pat the wolfy, but would like to keep her hand....*

Gellert enters the classroom, and, looking both ways to make sure that he is alone, slides down to sit, leaning against the wall, takes two pills from his jacket and swallows them. He runs his hand through his hair, closing his eyes as he waits for the drugs to take effect.

Dee comes in, looking for a place to clear her messed up little brain. Blansy, the baby drama, Sirius, BLAH. All that stuff was getting really hard to deal with. She sees Gellert up against the wall. This was the first time she had seen him since that little make out session in the bathtub... Lovely. "Er- What are you doing?" she asked, staying near the door.

He was beginning to feel a little fuzzy. His toes were tingling. His senses strangely blurred, but also more acute. "Fuck," he said, under his breath, seeing somebody come in. Dee. She looked lovely, and he remembered, with a chuckle the last time he had seen her, when he had in fact been shoving his tongue down her throat in the bathtub. "Just thinking," he said, waving his hand lazily.

Dee cocks her head, surveying him. There was something off about him. She edged closer. "About what?" she asked. "I'm sure you aren't thinking straight... you look like a coconut was dropped on your head."

[RIGHT. OKAY. LET'S ALL MAKE FUN OF THE YOUNG ONE. THE ONE WITH NO LIFE EXPERIENCE. LET ME HAVE IT.]

He raises his eyebrows, his hands finding their way to his hair, after searching around in midair for a few moments. "Do I really look that bad?" he asked, cracking a smile, "You could join me, if you'd like," he said, gesturing vaguely to his left, the motion causing the bag full of the remaining pills to drop out of the pocket of his leather jacket and onto the floor in front of him. Brain working slowly, it took him a moment to realize what was happening and reach out to replace them.

"You look absolutely terrible," she jokes, moving to sit next to him. She watches the bag drop, and since her brain is still functioning properly, she reaches out and grabs the bag from underneath his outstretched hand. "What's this?" she asks, examining it. "Is this some kind of muggle thing?"

The drugs were clouding his brain. They were making it hard to think right, hard to speak right. He knew that he was supposed to deny it, but he felt for some reason as if there was no cause for embarrassment. "And if they are?" he asked, looking straight into her eyes, which were very green. Her skin, he noticed, was very pale. And her hair was very blonde.

"I was just wondering," she answered. "These are drugs. I can tell by looking at you." She opens the bag. "That used to be me. Though I didn't take these..." She felt him watching her, and turned to look at his eyes. They weren't really focusing, and then she remembered. It was a good escape. "How much for the rest?"

He thought for a moment, then remembered--with some difficulty--that it was Monday. The next time he could get them was this weekend. "Not for sale right now," he said, looking her up and down, "but," he reached inside the bag and put one onto the palm of his hand, "if you need one right now you can have it--for free."

Dee stares at the pill, weighing her options. Leave it and remember, or take it and forget. She couldn't help but remember last time, when she had OD'ed. But this was just one little pill. She takes it from him and swallows it. She had missed the moments of bliss, and was shaking with anticipation.

He saw her shaking, and his eyelashes fluttered-- he reached out a hand to steady her, placed it on her shoulder. "It's not gonna kill you," he says, chuckling, "I wouldn't hurt you." His toes felt as if they were detaching from his feet. His feet felt as if they were detaching from his legs. His legs felt as if they were detaching from his body.

"I know that," she says, looking at her hands. "Since when have I only had four fingers~?" Her vision blurred a bit, and she turned to look into Gellert's four eyes. "How many did YOU~ take?" she asked, poking him.

He had taken two. No four. Maybe six. Or eight. "You have five fingers, silly," he told her, staring off into space for a moment then looking abruptly back to her, "Your eyes are very green today. They look like little emeralds," he says, giggling.

I am editing because Rachel is being a control freak who must be right about everything and make fun of me. *grumbles* ANYWAY.

Her eyes go out of focus, and she giggles. "Well, that's nice. Your eyes... they look like something too. The sky!" She points up.

BETTER?

"That's the ceiling, darling," his says, and the sky-blue eyes that she had been talking about went out of focus. He leaned his head against her shoulder and put his hand listlessly on her knee. When he was high, it was always as if he needed to touch someone--it didn't have to be sexual, just a touch, and he patted her knee clumsily.

"Oh, really? Lier!" She smiled in a weird, high way. That's how I'll describe it. The tingling in her body left her fingers and moved down to her knees. She looks at the ceiling. "OH. It is a ceiling."

"I don't know why they don't call it a sky, though," he says, vaguely, "it should be called a sky. An indoors-sky. An artificial sky. We don't need a whole new word for it."

"That's a very good point," she says, slumping against the wall. "And why is there a roof AND a ceiling? It makes no sense!"

He chuckled, and, deciding his eyes were tired, he closed them. "Not many things do. In fact, I don't know why they call it common sense when so few people have it."

"People these days..." she sighed. "Sooo stupid." Her arms felt like they were moving, though they weren't. "Am I flying?" she asked, thought she hadn't moved a muscle.

He didn't feel as if he were flying, but he could see why she had asked that. He was floating, rather, above it all. "No," he said, chuckling, "you are most securely seated upon the ground. Unless you'd like to be flying. Maybe if you closed your eyes then you would be," he told her, for it was his experience that if you closed your eyes and willed something to happen then it would.

"Hmm... Maybe I'll try that." She shut her eyes super tight. "One time... I flew on a broom. Yeah, it was nice," she said dreamily, because I don't know what to do now because I'm a horrible person.

"One time, I fell off a broom. More than one time. Maybe two or three or four," he said, drifting off into remembering the feel of Reg against him on the broomstick.