wild side| ron weasley

Children of the Damned

TW: bullying, mentions of domestic abuse

Nerves, she hated them, an anxiousness that was settled so deep inside of her that it made any confidence she should have, dissipate painfully. A fear that had slowly been creeping up on her throughout the day, a worry that she had done something wrong, said the wrong thing, her paradisal day with Terry had been blinding to the reality of that evening. A prickling thought in the back of her mind only made her aware of the dawning evening, a meeting with her friends, who she hadn't spoken too since that morning.

Mandy and Tony were a contributing worry, and there was an unsettling feeling that was twisting in her stomach at how they had left things that morning. She was sensitive, and she understood where their concerns came from, but it felt a lot sometimes, being overwhelmed by thoughts and feelings. Terry had kept her company, talking about everything and nothing all at once, the time between them was filled with music and meaning. The day had passed quickly, moments writing, playing, adjusting, playing, and then writing again sped time through, idea's from paper had been transcripted into reality, pathetic hopes from torn and dirty pages of her books, were now lifeless notes on the fret-board with the possibility of being so much more.

The freedom of creativity felt weightless, as if there weren't laws that she was stuck to confine herself too, it was freeing, in the most helpful of ways. She hated society, and yet the inspiration was limitless, and the pleasure, the brightness of happiness that made her feel good, made every frustrated feeling, every slip of her fingers against the strings, every trip of a wire, it was all worth it to feel that lifting. As if a weight had disappeared, she was the music, to be able to feel every hit of the note, to feel it yell and scream in her chest, to let it out in anyway without judgement, for all the sweat blood and tears she had put into her skill and hobby to be worth it.

And though her mind had been blank during the day, and emotions feeling somewhat replenished as every segment of idea's made possibility, cleared out any blockages, it didn't stop any moments of worry or panic as they both walked to the Great-Hall. She didn't know what she was going to say, the overwhelming overthinking made her shoulders stiffen, her back tense, and her teeth to bite the skin on her bottom lip, wondering on what she should do. Her shoulder harshly bumped into something sturdy, her converses scraping uncross the uneven stone path, and Terry quickly clasped his hand around her own, stopping her from completely tripping.

"Watch where you're going next time man" he called out as Antheia looked up, pushing back her messy and curly hair out of her face as piercing blue eyes glared at her. "You bumped into me" he bickered, ignoring Terrys words as he looked down at her, like it was her fault. She knew that she was wrapped up in her own thoughts, but with how far his shoulder had slammed into hers, and with as much anger in it as possible, she knew that he was purposefully guilty.

"Sure I did" she scoffed, never taking a step forwards towards him, but taking a small step back to Terry's side, her hand sliding out of his as she stubbornly crossed her arms, her face contouring into a scowl. He went to speak again, but Terry cut him off, wrapping his arm around her broad shoulders, taking a small step in the direction of the Great-Hall. "It's just manners dude, costs nothing to be respectful" he said calmly, softly, and sadly speaking, as if Ron was only ever going to take what he says onboard.

His look was scrutinising, the way his eyes would roll over her clothes, how his cheeks held a foreign colour as his lips curled in disgust. He stepped back, walking away in whatever direction was opposite them as he muttered something harshly under her breath. "Find something worth respecting, and I'll do it" he scoffed, walking away, and this deep feeling returned to her chest, pressing down inside of her. Her mind seemed to pause, and as he walked away, not bothering to look back at her, he couldn't help but glare at him, there was an foreseen amount of rage that boiled through her, piping hot, steaming, and a blood curdling red shade of crimson that made her heart rapidly beat outside of her chest.