If I Turn Into Another... [[KATIE]]

[Jonathan Halliwell]

Jon's feet carried him all the way out of the building, her words ringing in his ears. Once he was outside, he kept walking, soon his pace increasing until he was simply running as fast as he could, blind to where he was going. Why? Why couldn't they make it? She had been everything to him, the one person he could turn to when everything else was gone, and now... Now she was gone, and her words were so cold so hurtful in his deaf ears. He flew by other students, not even caring who they were. A few called out his name and reached out to him, but he just dodged their searching fingers and ignored their calls, barely even hearing them. Soon his feet gave out, and he fell to his knees, looking up and seeing the waterfall.

This was where their first date had been, where he had cooked for her and they had just talked and enjoyed themselves. Where he had taught her the names of different foods. Jeans already soaked through with the leftovers of the rain that had fallen early in the morning, a slightly tight maroon t-shirt was on his torso, most of it covered by a black leather jacket. He doubled over, fists clenching in the grass as he rested his forehead on the back of his right hand, eyes squeezing shut as he fought to resist the need to cry. As his breaths came hard and fast, it hissed through clenched teeth. Soon they slowed, becoming deeper and longer, until finally they paused as he sat up, still keeping his weight on his knees.

His head leaned back, his eyes still squeezed shut. Finally, letting loose, he released his hold on his emotions. Tears began to fall as he screamed to the cloudy mid-day sky,"WHY?!" He then doubled over again, his teeth clenching as he hissed a half-scream-half-sob out into the air, soon being reduced to tears and sobs that racked his body. On top of everything else... This was just too much, and he was cracking. No, scratch that, he had already cracked. He was a broken man now, ruined, fallen from grace... Whatever you want to call it, he was a single man whose life was falling apart all around him, and the kicker is that there was nothing he could do about it anymore. He couldn't make her love him, and he couldn't fix his friends and sister.

After a while -- who knew how long he'd been like that crying? -- he pushed off the ground, getting to his feet. Not even noticing his stiff joints and muscles, or the fact that he was shivering in the cold March air, he began to walk, oblivious to where he was going or who was there. His eyes were cold now, hard as stone, and the tears had long since stopped. Before he realized it, he was in a little coffee shop on the corner. He didn't even hesitate, stepping up to the counter and ordering an extra large cup of vanilla bean mocha. He waited in line, taking it and giving the money, then proceeded to sit in a chair in a far corner, staring down into his drink. He tried a sip, barely registering the flavor, and then resorted to swirling the straw in it, finding it much more satisfying at the moment.

Honestly, he couldn't remember the last time he ate, but either he was so hungry his stomach had given up on him or he was too numb to even realize the gnawing pain on his insides as his body demanded food. His eyes stared at the table as he sipped from his drink, his body slumped back in the chair. Whereas it had once been a great drink, and one of his favorites, its taste was so flat and empty it wasn't worth it. Then again, he hadn't ever bought it for the flavor, more for a reason to be here and something to do with his hands. He just needed something to occupy him, to even slightly take his mind off of the past few months. God, before he came here, everything had been perfectly fine...

But then again, before he came here, he was only half alive, and didn't that just suck?

((Okay, crappy post, but you get the idea. *stabs it* ))

[Mirabelle Miette]

The days after the attack had been stressful for Belle; she had had to deal with nightmares, hysterical friends and her head was hurting, but it was absolutely nothing compared to what Jon had gone through. She hadn't come close to enduring the physical pain that he had- not to mention the mental pain that he had received from seeing his friends around him in such pain and then the whole Roxie fiasco.

Mirabelle would have liked to think that she knew what Roxie was going to do before she did it, so that she could talk her out of breaking things off with Jon, but she hadn't had a clue. Sure, the Fina girl had seemed withdrawn, slightly snappy and sad, but Belle had had no idea why. Plus, there was a nagging feeling at the back of her mind that it was good that the Head Boy and her friend had broken up, but she couldn't understand it and pushed the awful thoughts right out of her mind. At least, as far away as she could get them.

Though, pulling her long black jacket closer around her body, Jonathan was the furthest person from her thoughts. She didn't expect to see him in the small cafe, and even if she had've, she wouldn't have expected to see him in such a state. Though, the feelings that were swirling through the male's mind weren't very apparent at first glance; when Mirabelle first entered the cafe and seen the Head Boy, he had just looked a little troubled. She assumed that he was thinking. Most students tended to look a little down in the dumps when they were thinking. There weren't, truthfully, many happy things to think about lately, for most people.

Walking through the warm room, Belle spotted Jonathan almost immediately. She sent a small smile in his direction, though she wasn't sure if he'd seen. She didn't know if he'd even noticed her enter. Brown boots thumped lightly on the floor they carried the Intermise to the counter. She ordered a coffee (well, duh) as well as a small slice of cake from the little fridges nearby. Paying, and then collecting her warm cup and napkin-wrapped cake, she moved over to Jon's table, and placed a free hand on the chair opposite.

"Mind if I sit here?" she asked with a small smile.

[Jonathan Halliwell]

From head to toe, Jon was a mess. His shoes, black and white tennis shoes, were soaked and had grass stains on them. The laces were dripping wet almost, and his jeans had grass stains all over the knees. They were soaked through, as well. His shirt was wrinkled, not really wet, but much more messy than it had been before. His leather black jacket was wrinkled and had grass strewn on it in some places, being damp at the elbows and forearms. His hair was a complete mess, and it looked as though he hadn't brushed it in days. It was rumpled and tangled, falling strangely and changing often as restless fingers ran through it, needing something to entertain them before they turned to throwing or breaking things... or people.

And truthfully, Jon couldn't even tell there were other people in the coffee shop, let alone anyone he knew. His eyes were clouded, not from tears or anything, just from the world in general. He was detached, feeling as though he was operating in a separate place and time from everyone else, a different reality. It was strange, but it was true, and it was slowly killing him. A part of him just wanted to reach out to someone and to be held, to give in and show some weakness. But wasn't that what had caused this mess in the first place? Yes. It was. He was weak. God, it was true that guys couldn't stand being called weak. Especially by their girlfriends -- ex-girlfriends... His eyes slid closed, covering his green eyes that had once been so full of life.

Those same green eyes were empty now, cold and hard as stone. He could only take so much; he was human. This had been the final straw, the breaking point... And boy, had he broke. He hadn't broken in half, but had instead shattered into a million different pieces. Inside, he was struggling to find the pieces of himself. It was as if he had shattered and the pieces had disappeared, hidden from his view, and he was on a scavenger hunt to find them -- without the clues. Pretty impossible, right? Somehow, though, he was going to have to find them, because it was very unhealthy for anyone to be so detached and apathetic as this. And for Jon, it was so far from normal, that it was already dangerous, and that was only going to increase as time passed.

His mind was blank right now, and it was almost as if instead of seeing the colors of the world he was seeing black, and a movie was playing. It was more like he was seeing himself, his true self, but it was so different. This self was unconscious, some sort of substance wrapping around him so it was as if he were becoming one with the darkness, which was probably this new Jon. He was bound to this darkness, his hair falling forward and blocking his face from view, and he wasn't stirring. Jon called out to him -- in his mind -- but received no response. At this point, he had drifted off to sleep, but he didn't realize it. He began to run, but everytime he got close, the other Jon was just too far for him to grab, and soon he was out of sight.

Then approaching footsteps sounded, and his eyes slid open, blinking a few times and taking some time to focus on what was before him. Suddenly, the sounds and colors of the world came rushing back, and he blinked rapidly, wincing slightly as the sound somewhat deafened his ears. Dang, coming back pretty much sucked. He made a mental note to possibly check into either Vance and his drugs to knock himself out or Adam to get himself so drunk he ended up passing out. Either one would work at this point. But he dragged his mind away from that as words began to flow, and he looked up, meeting the person's eyes. Ah. It was Belle. He blinked a few times and swallowed, trying to work his mind around her question.

"Mind if I sit here?" He then spoke up and said,"Oh. Um. Sure..." He trailed off, not entirely sure what to say to her. His fingers ran through his hair again, restlessness getting to him. He needed to get to his dorm, because at this point, he was going to trash the place, fix it up, and do it again over and over until he was unconscious. He looked up at Belle, absently chewing on the straw. He'd only taken a few sips, which was obvious. He then cleared his throat and said in a hoarse voice,"So... What brings you here?" It was polite, really. At least that much was still there. His voice, however, was flat and empty, not much expression. It wasn't quite monotone, but it was almost there. It was so different from the normal Jon, and if Belle didn't notice, it would be a miracle.

Of course, all she'd have to do is look in his eyes, and then she'd know that there was definitely something wrong in Jon's life...

((Bleh. Not my best. Forgive me... *mumbles and slinks away* ))

[Mirabelle Miette]

"Thanks!" Mirabelle said with a reasonably cheerful smile, eyes barely flicking over Jonathan as she sat down, setting her drink and paper-wrapped cake on the table. She didn't notice that something was wrong; after all, why should she? She didn't know what had gone on, and most people looked as dejected as he nowadays. Plus, she was in a pretty good mood herself that day, and happiness often made people a little blind. Well, it certainly made her somewhat sight-deprived, if she couldn't see the sadness that was right in front of her eyes.

His flat tone made her look up, but he cleared his throat and she just assumed he had some sort of cold, and looked back down at the table. As she replied, her pale, long-fingered hands unwrapped the food. "Well, I've been out and about again today. I had to buy some more clothes. You know, like the last time you saw me? No, wait, that was Cal. How could I forget? I got that beautiful broom. Anyway, I did a little bit of shopping and then got hungry, and headed in here." She grinned, allowing herself a pause from all the chirpy babbling, and glanced in his direction. "So I'm not following you, or anything, if that's what you were worried about."

Un-Mirabelle-ish behaviour, you ask? Maybe so. But after the attack, the one which left her with a slightly long cut to the forehead - which was, at the moment, partially covered by it's bandage and her blonde locks - Belle Miette had realized that it was no good just moping about all the time, doing everything that you're supposed to and never having any energy. She was kind of taking a leaf out of (the former) Roxie's book. The current mood would surely change when she came across said best friend a little later...

She went to pick up her drink, and clumsily knocked a napkin off the table. As she was leaning beneath the table to reach it, she noticed the grass and the dark stains of water on his jean legs, and frowned. Perhaps it was the lack of someone staring at her, or maybe the noise was dimmed, but she wasn't so... babbling anymore, and so noticed these suspicious stains. Coming up again, she dropped the white paper napkin onto the table and looked at Jon. "Hey, what were you doing before you came here?" she asked playfully. "Playing Quidditch? Your jeans are soaked through."

Then, her dark eyes met with his blank ones, and she blinked abruptly, seeing him properly for the first time since she had arrived at the cafe, and his gloomy table. "Are you okay?"

{Meep, she's babbling. xDDD Crappy post, but here it is! xD}

[Jonathan Halliwell]

Jon watched as Belle spoke and moved, noticing things he hadn't before. Like the way her hair was fixed or the clothes she was wearing. Trying to stay on track, he forced a smile as she told him about her day, thinking back and trying to remember when Belle had ever been this talkative and happy. She was acting like Roxie... Well, like Roxie used to act, before Jon. At this thought, his eyes dropped onto his drink again and he clenched his jaw. But then she gave him another distraction as she continued talking, and he resigned himself to listen to her. It had to be better than the way his life was going right about now, right? It just had to be. Because, honestly, if it wasn't, he was going to go have a chat with Karma, because this was just wrong.

"Oh. Right. Clothes... And, I, uh.. I never thought you were... following me..." His words were really detached, not really flowing together at all. In fact, they seemed nearly all of them separate from the other, breaking apart into fragile little pieces that were missing some and so they couldn't quite come back together. It was rather like him right about now... Ironic, huh? Then she was teasing about his pants, and he just looked down at them, blinking a few times. He hadn't realized they had been soaked through, much less muddy and grassy... And by the time he had looked up to meet her eyes, he knew that she had realized it wasn't quite the Jon she knew behind those eyes... In fact, it was so far from it, it was terrifying.

Before he could get a word in, she had spoke up once more. "Are you okay?" Well, that would be a very long, drawn out answer. Physically, yeah, sure, he was fine. Attacks weren't so bad now, and he was slowly getting back to normal. Mentally, he was getting there. He was getting a little more sleep every night, and things were going smoother. Emotionally, God, he was a wreak. In truth, he was broken in every way shape and form. Give him a straightjacket and you could call him crazy! He closed his eyes, lowering his head and covering his face in his hands. He was trembling now, though it wasn't completely noticeable, from everything: hunger, frustration, confusion, depression, and especially the exhaustion. And all at once, his control vanished, and he felt the tears coming back. Choking back a sob, he bit his lip so hard it bled.

"No... I'm not okay, Belle. I'm not o-fucking-kay..." Okay, you know something's wrong when Jon was using cuss words. He moved his hands, the tears still in his eyes, making them glossy and watery. They were bloodshot and hollow, though they were not empty. Now, where nothing had been before, a swirling mass of emotion was visible. Overall, though, was the hurt. He looked rather like you would imagine a broken or fallen angel to look: torn up and defeated. Blood trickled down his lip, splashing onto the table, but he didn't even notice. He looked at her, meeting her eyes, and whispered,"I'm not okay... I'm just... not... okay..." His voice trailed off, then he looked away, out the window. His voice was a frail whisper now before it trickled away into nothing. "I'm. Not. Okay."

He looked back at her and he looked more like a lost child than he had ever appeared in his life. "Why, Belle? Why should I bother anymore? Why should I love, when I'm just going to get hurt? Why should I trust, when I just get stabbed in the back? Why should I smile, when everything's falling apart? And why should I exist, when there's nothing left to live for?" He shook his head, closing his eyes. He covered his face in his hands again, propping his elbows on the table. "I just don't understand anymore... And now, she's gone... She left me, Belle. She couldn't deal with me... I'm just... too... weak..." His eyes squeezed shut, and he struggled with the tears, his voice coming out a little thick with unshed tears. "I can't do this anymore, Belle... I just can't do it..." His voice trailed off, then picked back up once more.

"I'm just not that strong..."


((Meh. Crap. >.<;; Forgive me, Katie.))

[Mirabelle Miette]

{Might he have noticed her hair and clothes because he didn't want to listen to the crap she was randomly babbling? xDDD It would explain why he hadn't noticed those things before. You know, when she used to be able to hold intelligent conversation about things other that clothes. xD *joke*}

Saying that Roxie had been cheerful completely before Jon wasn't totally accurate; she had been happy with Jonathan, before the attacks happened and shit really hit the fan. It wasn't really that much to do with him, as awful as it sounds. It was just the fact that he was as weak as, in fact, weaker than, her that pretty much knocked her off the deep end and caused her to break their relationship to bits. So, basically, he shouldn't be feeling so emotionally crazy about this, because it genuinely wasn't that much his fault.

Belle frowned, thanking her newly found awareness for not embarrassing her further with more incoherent babbling, and watched as Jon lowered his dark head. He was silent for a second and, thankfully, so was she, before he finally spoke. His slightly harsh words made her blink- she didn't particularly like the use of swearing from anyone, let alone hearing it from the Head Boy. It shocked her, but she mentally shrugged it off, ready to listen to what he had to say. The Intermise watched the drop of blood as it hit the table and cringed. All he did was repeat that he wasn't okay several times, and Belle refrained from actually saying 'okay' to show that she understood.

His expression when he finally looked back at her, almost made her cry, shattering her cheerful and happy mood within the second that she had got it. When he had finally finished, Mirabelle took a moment to take everything in. Roxie had left him? As in, seriously left him? Broke up with him, and left the relationship for good? She could hardly believe it, though it did explain some of Roxie's odd, pretty depressed mood swings that had been coming around lately. Mirabelle shook her head in a confused manner with closed eyes, before opening them quickly and scooting her chair around to Jon's side of the table, so that she was sitting right beside him.

Mirabelle took a deep breath, and when she met eyes with Jon, her dark orbs were fierce and passionate, as if getting ready to order the words inside her head into a rant. "Jon." She looked straight at his face, silently willing him to do the same to her. "You are strong enough." It was a simple, plain statement, which was followed directly with... nothing. No further explaining right at that moment in time. Just a very small silence. After about five seconds of staring, she added, "I know you are. You're strong, you're proud, you're kind, and you're intelligent." She gave a small smile. "Why else would you have been awarded the title of 'Head Boy'? You deserve it, one hundred percent."

She gathered her thoughts up a little more. "And in answer to your first questions, it's easy. You bother because you can't give up. You just can't. You love, because the feeling of being loved back, if only for a little while, is the greatest feeling in the whole world. You trust, because you can't keep things bottled up inside. You need someone to lean on, someone's shoulder to cry on, someone to tell all your deepest thoughts and secrets to, because otherwise something like this will happen." She glanced down at the table's surface, and then back up again, to continue.

"You smile because it makes the world brighter- for you, and everyone else. And you exist, damn it, because there's everything in the world left to live for." Mirabelle's breath hitched in her throat at the last words, though her features remained set and fierce. "Is that the answer you were looking for? Because you've found it, and you need to find yourself again quick, otherwise everyone around you will start to fall apart, too. Including... including me, Jon. And I can't fall apart. Not again." She blinked quickly, and took a drink of her fast-cooling coffee. She found that her throat was actually starting to sting a little, though she wasn't exactly sure why.

"As for Roxie... She's my friend. My best friend. I know her, and I know that her brain is under a lot of stress at the moment. She's not used to this." Belle lifted a hand and waved it about. "Any of this. She comes from a simple Muggle family, who's normal family disaster is running out of milk. Having a set of magical friends and a boyfriend who go through worse than her and cope with it a hundred times better puts strain on her mental state. Which, currently, is looking a little shaky." As before, she offered a weak smile. "But give her a little time, Jonathan. Concentrate on getting your act together- I can help you. Perhaps she'll come round and see what a great guy you really are. She was damn lucky to have you, in my opinion."

[Jonathan Halliwell]

Suddenly, Belle was beside him, and Jon looked at her for a moment, as if trying to remember how she had got there. But then she started to talk, and he forced himself to focus on her words, even though it was pretty hard for him. She said his name, and he just looked at her without speaking. He just blinked, staring at her with a mixture of very slight amusement and doubt, as well as a little lost and confused. "Maybe... But maybe they got it wrong?" He looked at her and sighed. "Okay, okay... I deserve it. Got it." And then she started to answer his questions, and he felt his mouth part just slightly. Okay, so Belle obviously had the answer to everything, right? She had to, because her answers were pretty dang deep...

Then she finished, and he just stared at her for a little while. When he spoke, his voice was a little hoarse and weak, as fragile as the most delicate glass or icicle. It was soft, almost a whisper, and his eyes stared out the window, not really seeing anything outside it. "Okay... You're right... I'll love... I'll trust... I'll smile... And I'll exist..." His voice trailed off, and he seemed to be lost in his thoughts. "I didn't know... I could have... such an effect on anybody... But I'll try... For them, I'll try... For you... I'll try." His words were slow to come, separated and distant, as though he was hardly aware he was speaking them. And truth be told, he knew what he was saying, but he could barely hear himself speak the words.

Then she mentioned Roxie, and his breath caught. Once she had finished, he paused. Then his eyes slid over to hers, and once again that wall was up. "No..." He didn't say anything else, just that, as he looked at her. "No." But that wall was wavering, and it gave pretty easily as the emotions swirled within them. "I can't... Belle... I can't..." His face was in his hands, his fingers pulling his bangs back against his head as they ran through them and stayed, his eyes staring at the table. "I can't..." he whispered. "I just can't do it, Belle... I can never be with her, okay? Never. Ever. I just can't do it... This was the only time; there isn't going to be any others. Ever. I can never be with her again, Belle..." His eyes squeezed shut to stop the tears that threatened to fall as he breathed the last word.

"Never..."

[Mirabelle Miette]

When Jonathan looked so shocked at her slightly hysterical ranting, as well as his comment that he never knew that he could have such an effect on somebody, Mirabelle sighed. "I- I know. I was so... cheerful before, and hearing things like that- like what you just said- it... it makes me..." She fanned her hands a little, biting her lip. "It just bothers me." She was breathing properly again. Damned mood swings. "Maybe it's because I've felt like that before, and I hated it. I don't know. But what I do know is that you can't give up on things like that." The female looked at him with some exasperation, although she heard and registered him agreeing to try. It was as if she was still in a 'convince people to bother, love, exist ect.' mood. "You just can't. I won't let you."

Mirabelle was startled at the effect that her words had on him, as he began to pull away again. This was going to take some damage control. Damn it. She had almost gotten through to him... She should never have mentioned Roxie. What a foot-in-mouth situation. Holding up her hands, she said, "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I'm sorry, okay. I shouldn't have said it." She repeated the word 'okay' a few more times inbetween Jon's almost incoherent gasps and mutterings that there was no way he would ever be together with Roxie - or indeed anyone else, at one point - again, and shook her head. Her blonde curls waved lightly, brushing the front of her face until she pushed them away impatiently.

Wild thoughts of what to say next went through her head- she had never been in this position before. To want to say the truth so bad, driven by this uncontrollable urge to just scream, 'God, get over that biatch (even though that 'biatch' was currently Mirabelle's best friend; well heck, she just coudn't control her odd feelings these days) and get on with your life, boy', but care about someone so much that you're afraid to say the truth, to give your opinion and just say what needs to be said... It was an odd feeling, and Belle realized that it was quite an awkward and very delicate situation. Plus, Jonathan apparently thought that she had all the answers, when she really didn't even have one at all. She just wanted him to understand that Roxie wasn't it. She didn't know why; it was just how she felt.

Belle gently pried his fingers away from his face with both hands, holding them lightly on the table. "Okay. Just calm down a minute." And give me another minute to think, she added silently in her head. Pulling Jon slightly by the hands so that he was maybe sitting a bit more sideways, she moved her chair forward, so that they were sitting face to face. One of her knees was in between his and the other on the other side, and she considered one last time what to say. She couldn't say exactly what she wanted to... she'd have to soften it a bit. Either way, she was going to say it. Jonathan needed to hear it if he wanted to deal with things a bit better.

"I know that Roxie hurt you a lot. I know that what she did was wrong, and she acted stupidly, and didn't know what good she had when she had it." Breathe, Belle, she reminded herself reasonably. "But she was under pressure." In case Jon wanted to butt in with something indignant here, Belle hurried on with her words. "I know that she hasn't been through half as much as you, but she's seen it happen. She's wrecked her relationship with her brother by taking her vindictive twin's side, only to see him save his best friend's life in an attack. She witnessed her sister's beating in the Intermise attack, and stood by when Emerald was acting so weird. She listened to me tell her tales of what went on in my room." Belle lifted a hand and waved at her wounded head.

"But worst of all, she saw her boyfriend and his friends' results of the attack. She saw her strong, intelligent boyfriend be brave and stand by his friends when they were so hurt, so injured, only to finally feel the effects of his own injuries. But do you know what must have been the complete and utter 'it' of it all? Being a coward, and bailing. Leaving her Head Boy to fall apart behind her, while she tried to put it all to the back of her mind." Belle shood her head, not even knowing if all of this was true, but imagining how it would feel if she did it. Also, she knew her friend's mind well enough, so she could just imagine the guilt that she was feeling at breaking up with Jon at what must have been on of the weakest points in his life. God only knew where she was. Mirabelle would have to find her later.

"So I'm sad to say that you, once again, have a choice. Will you forgive her? I'm sure she's regretting every word she said right about now, and if you give her time and learn to accept the things that she said and did, she'll soon be back, more sorry than ever. Perhaps you two can work things out, in the long run. I don't know. Or will you learn to forget her? Accept her cowardice but decide that you can't forgive her anyway. If that's your choice, then you have to move on." Mirabelle paused, to sigh. "Earlier, you said that there 'wasn't going to be any others'. I'm not sure if I misunderstood, but you either meant that there's never going to be any other girls or love in your life, or that there's never going to be any circumstances with Roxie again."

She stopped, and tried to meet his eyes. "If it's the former, then I ask you to please remember that she's not the only girl out there. So she wasn't the one. What the heck. But there is a One out there for you, and now you know, you learn from this mistake (if it indeed proves to be a mistake), that she's going to be better than a McElroy. But if it's the latter, then... I guess you've already made your choice."

My, my. She really did seem to have all the answers.

{HOMG LAME. I hate how long it is. It's SLIGHTLY God-moddy in places, and if it bother ye, please tell me. }

[Jonathan Halliwell]

Jon felt his hands tugged away from his face, and he looked up at Belle. Then he was tugged around a bit as she scooted closer, one of her knees coming to rest between his. His eyes dropped to his legs, seeing their legs intertwined, and he just stared at it for a moment before looking at his hands, then eventually to her face. She spoke, and he listened. It was as simple as that, but was it? Not really. However, right now, his mind was blissfully blank as her words flowed through it softly. It was comforting, even if it hurt him to hear it. Perhaps that's what was so comforting... Feeling something, anything, and knowing that he still existed and that there were still people out there who cared enough to talk some sense into him...

Then she was finished, and it was his turn to talk. He took a deep breath, focusing on breathing for a moment, before his eyes met hers once more and he began to speak. "Belle... I don't blame her for anything. It's not that I'm angry with her or anything, I just... I just didn't understand. I still don't, entirely, but I know that whatever happens, it's not her fault. If anything, I feel that the fault belongs solely to me. Perhaps I should have been stronger, and maybe I should have been more careful. I should have talked to her more, and I should have made promises I could keep... I should have taken care of her, not the other way around... And now... Now, it's too late. I can't go back and change things, Belle."

He sighed and looked down, squeezing her hands lightly as if to remind himself that there was someone there, before he pulled them away. They threaded through his hair, causing it to spike up on top and stand every which way. It was very messy and rumpled, but he honestly just didn't care anymore. Not that he had ever truly cared about his looks, but still... He didn't have a reason to anymore. "I loved her, Belle... I thought she loved me, but I was wrong. It's like the last time all over again..." His eyes shut, and a shiver rocked through his body, though it was more of a shudder. Then his eyes opened and pinned on hers, holding her there. The intensity in them was amazing, especially considering their dead appearance moments before.

"Would you like to know about my last relationship? Well, let's see... I was tricked into falling in love with her, and she led me along for weeks until I was so far in, I couldn't get out. Then she finally accepted my request and we started dating. Little did I know what I was getting myself into... She said she loved me; she said a lot of things that weren't true... As they say, though, she wore the pants in the relationship, not me. Quite literally at times. She was my first, Belle, my first everything, but to her I was just a plaything. I was her toy to use and toss aside like yesterday's garbage, and it didn't even phase her. I was with her for two years, and I thought that doing whatever she wanted me to do was normal. Boy, was I wrong..."

He shook his head, a harsh exhalation of a laugh escaping his mouth. "I'm not going to tell you details, Belle... Because me experiencing them was enough for the entire world, and I'm not going to make you lose whatever you have ate today. Trust me, it's disturbing... But I did things that I'm not very proud of, mostly because she claimed that it was in the 'name of love' or some bullshit like that. She lied about a lot of things... And this was only one of them. So after two years with her, she tossed me away like I was nothing, and I was left to pick up the pieces of me that were left behind. I had to get away from her, and I did finally... I came here, and I was completely different. I wasn't her slave anymore, I was free..."

This time, his eyes fell once more, and they slid closed as his head drooped a little, more from exhaustion and frustration than anything. He rubbed his hands over his face before they fell again. "She followed, Belle. She followed me... And just so you know the lengths she will go to when she wants something, she drugged me and raped me. Here. The night before the attack, Belle... I was telling the others about it, and that very night, we were attacked. God, seeing those Death Eaters trying to hurt my friends killed me, Belle. And all I could think about was 'if they're safe, it will all be worth it...' And they were, but we were all pretty banged up. Not to mention, in some cases, put into comas..." A slightly sheepish look crossed his face before he looked up at her.

"I can't be with her again, Belle. I may try and see other girls, but I can't go back to either of them... It would kill me. And this time, I'm not willing to make that sacrifice. Not for this... Never for this..." He sighed and said softly,"So don't worry. I'm not giving up on love... I'm not giving up on myself... And I'm not commiting suicide. Okay? I'll be okay, I just need time to heal... And I pray that time can truly heal all wounds... Because otherwise, this is going to be one long and crappy life." He tried a sort of half-smile, but it wasn't very large or convincing. "Oh. Um, you may want to be the one to yell at people for a while... I think I nearly tore out my vocal chords earlier..." A light blush crept into his cheeks, and he didn't meet her eyes.

"At least I wasn't close to the museum, or I might have destroyed everything in there..."

[Mirabelle Miette]

This was a really difficult situation for Belle, because she couldn't say exactly what she wanted to without it sounding like she was slagging Roxie off. Which, truthfullly, if she said what she wanted to be saying, she would be. She'd always been on her own, before, and had safely avoided things like this, when two friends were apart and she didn't know what to say to him. God knows what would happen when she was met with Roxie. Because if anybody needed a good talking to, it was her. She's started all of it, and Mirabelle wanted to know why.

Jon's words hit her ears then, and she did listen. That's what she was supposed to be here for, after all. To listen. That, truthfully was why the Head Girl had asked what the matter was, when she had seen Jonathan looking so... well, lifeless, for lack of a better word. She could very well have got her drink and her cake (which was still lying, uneaten and lonely, on the table, by the way) and gone and sat somewhere else. Or she could have just walked right out of the café and not looked back. But she didn't, because listening and hand-holding and talking-sense-into was what friends were for.

Belle bit her lip at all the things he said. She didn't like it when people put themselves down over things they didn't properly know, especially Jon- she'd never seen him be like this before, and she'd never expected to. "Hey... if you don't understand it? Don't blame yourself. There's barely anything worse than feeling the way you are right now, because no one can talk you out of it." She smiled weakly. "No one like me. So, just... give yourself a break, okay? You can't help the things that happen to you." Like getting a useless girlfriend like her, she added spitefully and completely involuntarily in her mind.

Damn those sudden, mean brain thoughts.

The Intermise jumped slightly when he squeezed her hands, dark eyes coming up in an attempt to meet his but failing. Then her hands were abruptly let go of, and they fell onto the table, palm down. At his words, one hand crept slowly to her mouth, and she nibbled on the nails. He loved her? Like last time? Belle was curious, she had to admit. It had been a long time since she'd experienced any emotion apart from happiness, being around Emerald and the previous Roxie for so long.

Though, through all the sometimes fake happiness, both of her friends seemed to have something to hide. Which hurt, because Belle knew that they'd never tell her. They weren't a particularly close group of girls, to be honest. Nobody knew anything about Mirabelle's or Emerald's past, Emerald kept quiet about what happened to her from the professor, just drowning herself in the happiness of being with Matt and ignoring it, and Roxie hadn't told how she'd been feeling about breaking up with Jon. Perhaps if it had been revealed, Belle and Emerald would have been able to save the male any more heartbreak.

But things were done now. There was nothing anybody could really do about everything that had happened, other than try their best to heal from it.

Mirabelle's face scrunched up with distaste at the description of Jon's ex. She could only think one thing, and it was one that she didn't think about many girls that often: Bitch. What a total bitch. How could she have treated someone like that? Let alone Jonathan Halliwell, just about one of the sweetest and, it was beginning to be proved, breakable guys she had ever met. It was ridiculous. Belle only hoped she'd never meet the awful-sounding girl, lest she be absolutely forced to scratch the other's eyes out.

"What?!" Mirabelle gasped when he said that the ex had followed him to the school and actually raped him. It was a hard thing for her not to add, you're kidding? On the end, but she resisted, thank God. "Jon, that's totally awful," she said instead, refering the rape and the fact that he'd been drugged. This girl better not meet her now, for fear of death. "Did you tell anyone? Did you report her?" She was cut off, however, as he went on about the attack, his words cuasing a lump in her throat which she attempted to swallow back down.

Jon then mentioned that he wouldn't go back to them, that he wouldn't make the sacrifice, and she just nodded dumbly, not quite processing all the information. What he had been through. Just how he had been broken so bad. What the heck was happening to Beauxbatons? It was supposed to be a school of law and order and beauty... but then the new Headmistress came, and it had all shattered to pieces. The attacks. The rape. The hate. This place was rivalling how Hogwarts had been in the Dark Lord's time, on the dark and twisted scale.

She shook her head to clear her thoughts, and then gave him and smile as he finished talking. "I'm glad you're not committing suicide," she admitted truthfully, smiling back. He seemed to have cheered up just a bit. The last part, along with his blush, made her laugh weakly. Shebrushed her fingers across his red cheek, and said, "Ah, you forget... I don't yell." She smiled. "I listen." And there was an example of that, right there. "And I'm glad you weren't in the museum, in that case- there's a valuable minotaur horn in there that I'm meant to be doing a report on for CoMC."

[Jonathan Halliwell]

He shook his head and said,"No... Besides, not many people would believe that a guy was raped. On top of that, how do you think people would treat me once they knew? Especially some of the guys. Most of the girls would just laugh or feel sorry for me, and the guys would just think I was a wimp. I would have no respect, and it would just ruin things. Besides that, she's friends with my sister, and she's so different since the attack... Because she herself was nearly raped..." He sighed and said,"And maybe it's because, in some twisted way, I still want her. First love and all that..." He looked at her and said,"Don't worry. I'm not that stupid, and I would never go back to that. Changed or not, it's not for me."

He looked away for a minute and said,"You know, Belle, you should give yourself more credit. You're better at this talking and listening and knowing things thing than you thought..." He blinked and looked at her. "And that just made no sense whatsoever." He laughed and continued,"We should talk more. Not be head boy and head girl, not try and save the world, blah blah blah... But we should just talk. Like this. Except, you know, with me not being a complete wreck and falling apart all over you and ruining your meal. Which, speaking of, I do believe I skipped..." He made a face. "Which explains the sudden rumbling and aching of my midsection in response to that statement. Darn human needs and all..."

He smiled at her, a real smile, before he actually drank some of his drink. He looked into it and said,"You know what? Food looks great right about now... I'll be back..." He got to his feet, a little wobbly, but held onto her shoulder lightly until his balance was restored. Wow. It had been longer than he thought... Attacks and all that. He smiled and kissed her cheek as he passed, whispering,"Thanks, Belle. I mean it... Saved my life..." He then went over to the counter to look at the menu. It was a few minutes before he was up, and he ordered a few apple pies and a bowl of vanilla ice cream. Yep, he was plain. Sue him. He then took it back and sat down, spooning some ice cream onto his pie and letting it melt before taking a few bites and smiling. Perfect... Unlike his life. But hey, can't win it all...

[Mirabelle Miette]

Belle nodded slowly in agreement when Jon mentioned that no one would really believe that he would have been raped by a girl, and then blushed herself when he asked her how she thought people would treat him if they knew. She hadn't thought about it that way; he certainly would be treated different by some of the older, manlier guys in the school. She would have ignored it, because they were asses anyway. But it was different for a guy, she guessed.

"I'm sorry." She apologized for even suggesting it, and then listened as he went on in further explanation. Mirabelle nodded along, trying to think about his position, even though she didn't agree with half of his views - male and female were different for a reason, after all - but understood where he was coming from to a certain degree. "I guess... I guess I know what you mean with the whole 'first love' thing. Or, at least, I can imagine, to some degree."

She laughed at the next thing he said, which was somewhat complimentary to her. "No, it did make sense. I get what you mean." The Intermise smiled. "Thanks." She let out another giggle-shaped laugh at the next thing he suggested and grinned, nodding. "Y'know what? Yeah, we should. I hate that whole dang saving the world lark people have going on right now." She smiled. "Talking was... I want to say fun? It was actually somewhat depressing." Again, he got a grin. "But I kind of liked it anyway. Listening is a better pastime than I thought."

And, hey. She'd forgotten about her cake. There it lay, forgotten, sad and abandoned, on the wooden table top, it's napkin half open to reveal drying sponge. Didn't look too inviting.

Mirabelle's attention was stolen yet again when Jonathan rose from his seat to go and get some food. He kissed her cheek and she blinked, a hand rising to touch said cheek as soon as his back was turned. Her dark eyes followed him to the counter with a funny look in them, but then she smiled. At least Jon was getting in a better mood- he'd been awful when she'd first arrived at the cafe. In bits, even.

He soon came back with his food, and she looked dejectedly at her slice of dried, crumbling cake on it's napkin. Oh, yay. She picked it up and had a bite, suddenly unsure of what to say to him. It was odd.

[Jonathan Halliwell]

He smiled at her after a few bites and asked her,"Would you like a bite?" His eyebrows were lifted slightly, his face completely serious and slightly apologetic for not asking her sooner. His eyes were more or less what they had been, if a little darker and more stressed. But in general, he was okay. Sure, he was still broken inside, but Belle had helped him to put some of those pieces back in place. She had helped him to find the framework of his being, had helped him find his very foundations. In short, she had helped him find himself again. Maybe everything wasn't rainbows and butterflies yet, but it was better. And Belle? Well, she was a solid corner piece if he had ever saw one. He couldn't be more grateful.

After a few minutes he smiled at her and said,"Have you met Max?" It was a simple question, but he couldn't recall if Belle had ever met he and Faith's dog, Maximus. He had paused for a moment, his spoon suspended in midair, and only noticed it again when it began to drip and fell onto his hand. He blinked and ate it, wiping his hand off on his jeans. He set the spoon down to adjust his jacket, popping the collar in order to fix it and set it right. He smoothed it down and ran his fingers through his hair again, although he missed a small leaf that suddenly appeared from the depths of his needs-a-haircut 'do. He looked down at his pie and took another bite, muttering,"Okay, so maybe I needed the food, too..."


((Okay, crap, but hey. Let me get back into the swing of things. xD))