#p:to be alone

[lennoxfraser-blog]

to be alone | lennox & solo

@am-flying-solo

Afternoon sun pushed through the corridors, and Lennox hitched his backpack up higher on his shoulder, dragging himself from the library. The books he’d poured over made his brain throb - he’d been trying harder since his talk with the Minister, not wanting to let him down before he’d even started his work there. But the information wasn’t sticking, and no matter how much Lennox read, it didn’t help the practical side of magic: he still couldn’t do half the things that his classmates could. Barely scraping through his OWLs had been par for the course, but now that his NEWTs were looming, Lennox knew that he had to do something. Defensive magic was a priority, given the state of the world, but he wanted offensive things, too - he wanted to equip himself to be the best non-auror for the Minister that he could be. It wasn’t easy, and after slamming the books shut on another wasted free period, Lennox was coming to the conclusion that he was going to need help. A study partner, maybe; possibly a tutor.

The hallways were full of students coming from classes, going to clubs, or retiring to the dorms to finish off assignments. Lennox carefully weaved through them, a frown on his face, but he was perpetually pleased to find that most people scooted out of his path, some of the smaller ones practically diving to the safety of their friend group. Paying them no mind, Lennox diverged from the main hallway, and that’s when he saw Solo - his hair wet, meaning he’d just come from a shower. The sight of him stirred up something that Lennox had been squashing since before the break - the moment in the library, the words that Solo had bequeathed Lennox. He felt a shiver run down his back remembering them, how unexpected, but also the disbelief that had coursed through him - and the horror. Not at Solo’s feelings, but at the fact that something like love could endure what they’d done to one another. Lennox almost didn’t want to believe it - didn’t want to believe that Solo had felt what he did when Lennox had hurt him so many times; didn’t want to remember the way Solo had looked at him when Lennox had broke his arm. There was too much between them for love to the finish line - either Solo didn’t understand what he was feeling, or he was genuinely insane.

Lennox was taking bets on the latter. “Hey,” Lennox said, making a split second decision: he wouldn’t carry around the burden of Solo’s ‘love’ for longer than necessary. “Got a minute?” But he wasn’t asking - he knew that if he gave Solo a chance, he’d be out of there. “Awesome,” Lennox continued, and with one well-timed push, cornered Solo into a broom closet that had its door propped open. They couldn’t talk in the dorm - not when Smith or Noah were right there, bound to hear, so the closet as big as a shoe box would have to do. Lennox kicked the door closed. The silence was absolute. “You’ve been avoiding me,” Lennox stated, folding his arms and positioning himself in front of the door so that Solo couldn’t just leave - he wanted this over with. “You can’t just-- you know, say what you did before break and then not follow up. I thought you’d want to know how I felt, or even just-- I don’t know, be around me if you feel the way you supposedly do.” Lennox watched Solo carefully. “For someone in love, you don’t exactly try to be around me very much.”