A Change of Face

Since the meltdown Annaliese had really kept to herself, following Osmund's idea of writing poetry. However her style had changed. She'd started wearing different clothing and not paying attention others. Absorbed in her own little world.

She'd been continuing to write more of her poetry in the stables, hoping to get peace and quiet. "The flames engulfed my soul and left me dead, but find the real me inside my head." She wrote in her notebook, smiling to herself at how the line had come out.

Having someone invade his hiding spot once was a coincidence, but twice? Osmund's brow furrowed as he heard a voice sound from within the stables. Who liked hanging around the stables anyway? Osmund didn't, but at least he could be confident that he would be alone there, or he could before now. That was the whole idea of coming to the stables, to be alone to do what he didn't want other people to see which ranged from lyric writing to reading to just plain quiet time, for Merlin knew that in a school full of people and rooming with another person could get tiring no matter who you were.

Part of him wanted to turn around and leave but the other part spoke more loudly. If he left, he would be out of a hiding spot. Readjusting his journal beneath his arm, Osmund decided to confront his invader and entered deeper within the stables, keeping wand at hand.

He rounded the corner and nearly jumped at the sight of the person, not expecting them to be so close, and hastily drew his wand in defense, letting his journal drop accidentally. However, he was more focused on aim. "What are you doing here? There is no loitering here!" He lied, hoping to scare her off with the wand and the words.

Annaliese looked up at the third year who she recognized. "Hmph. You're one to talk." her voice echoed through the stables softly. Glancing at his drawn wand she rolled her eyes and sighed. "I'm not looking for a fight and more than you are, so why don't you put that away and join me."

Her tone not being as girlish as it had normally been when she usually talked to him. Her floral dresses had been replaced with skinny jeans and a tee-shirt with sneakers. Her blonde locks had hastily been thrown up in a pony-tail to keep her hair out of her face. She wasn't surprised that he hadn't recognized her. Who would?

Her open poetry book sat in her lap, the words were sprawled across the page like wildfire. She sighed and looked down at it, then back at him. "I was just using your advice, y'know?" She smiled small.

His eyes narrowed in hostility as she told him that neither of them were looking for a fight. Who was she to talk for him? He was good at defensive spells, having found a certain sort of release by practicing them. However, it was true. He couldn't find the will to strike her with a spell. It didn't seem right to him. He lowered his wand, cautiously, and returned it to his pocket.

She offered him a seat, which he hardly desired, since he wanted to sit on his own at that moment, but didn't find the need to argue. After picking up the journal that he had dropped, he sat some distance across from her, eyeing up her paper. So she had listened to his pitiful advice and started writing poetry? Osmund wasn't sure how he felt about that and resorted to giving her a somber smile. "Right, and how's that working for you?" He asked, disinterestedly. He wasn't a man of petty conversation and wasn't about to start anytime soon. Judging by the change in appearance, for it had seemed to him that Annaliese was a bit more well put together prior. He couldn't help but feel a pang of recognition, for, he didn't care much either. That's why his hair had grown long.

Annaliese sighed and looked up at Oz ready to tell him, but she could see the disinterest in his eyes. She almost scoffed, but stopped herself. For a moment she didn't respond. she hadn't been looking for an argument. However, she didn't want to put up with his childish mood swings. Yes she was a child herself..but sometimes she felt more mature than him. "Do you actually care? Or are you just trying to make small talk?"

She sighed, was he really going to sit there acting like he actually gave a damn about how she was doing. His attitude towards her was frank and rude most of the time..but she couldn't understand why he was so bitter. she thought about asking him...but was that too personal?

His brow had furrowed at her hostility. It had been she whom had invited him to stay, but now she was refusing his small talk, quite accurately accusing him of disinterest. He wasn't entirely enchanted with that of other people's lives, but he thought it would've been more rude to ignore conversation with her than to ask questions he had no interest in. "If you want to be alone, that's all you had to say," He replied, sternly, but his temper was still rather cool.

Shaking his head in slight disgust, he stood up again, finding himself unwelcomed. Perhaps it was time to find a new hideaway, he thought to himself and readjusting his journal once more, he turned to face the girl and said, somewhat sarcastically and bowed dramatically, "Thank you for gracing me with your presence!" And he was once accused of being self-centered.

Annaliese smirked and raised her eyebrow. "So tell me. What happened to you when you were a kid? Hmmm?" She knew something was up. He was too hostile towards everyone for him to just be so laid back. "So what is it Ozzy?" she stood up and meet his eyes and dark smile playing across her lips. "I don't mean to be so forward, but...y'know. Someone should know." she paused to think then said "It's not healthy to keep your emotions bottled up, I learned that the hard way, as you saw...." she sighed not sure what else to say. she wanted him to open up.

He was expecting further arguments but none such occurred. Instead there was a change in the expression of her face and suddenly he was asked something that made his throat run dry and his mouth gape. "Pardon?" Who was she to be asking such personal things? His problems were his problems and no one needed to know about them. They were things that hide between the pages of his journal, never to be told. Neither Xavior nor Christian, two of Osmund's closest friends, knew the secret to his angers. So why would he tell her of all people?

"Who says something happened to me when I was a kid?" He replied in a manner that gave away no hint as to whether or not he was going to give in to telling the truth. As he remembered, his childhood was perfectly fine. Osmund grew up in a big house filled with luxuries with prestigious and wealthy parents who would give him anything as long as he behaved. That meant staying out of trouble, not making a mess, keeping his studies up and, most importantly, being seen and not heard. As long as Osmund was quiet, he could get away with anything. His childhood was fine, save for the constant need to impress his father, which carried on into his adolescence and later. His father was never quite loving with him, if he remembered correctly, and Helena had always been too busy to hang around. He was starving for some tender care, that was all. He was desiring to be heard. He wanted to live again in that ostentatious house he had grown up in and wouldn't stop until he finally achieved his father's love. "There is nothing I am running from..." He said. But there was much he was fighting for.

Annaliese scanned his facial expression. "Then if there's nothing you're running from, what is your deal..?" She asked. She knew something was up, she was smart enough to figure that out, but what was it..."Just tell me." She said softly. "You can tell me....who am I to judge anyone...?" She looked up at him with her big eyes. "I can keep a secret." Her family had been torn from her, she didn't mean to pry...she just wanted him to know he didn't have to be a stranger. She wouldn't judge him. Like she had said...who was she to judge anyone?

"I don't know. It seems to me the last secret you had ended up tearing you up inside until it finally bursted out of you," Osmund replied, remembering the time when the girl was in hysterics over her enduring past. She ended up blurting everything to him, whether he wanted to hear it or not. Was this her way of saying she wanted something in exchange for that knowledge? He didn't even want to know in the first place and he could assure he that he had done well to keep it a secret, not caring to tell anyone else about it. "Why do you even want to know?" He defended himself.

He was running into a corner with this conversation and soon there would be no way out. He needed to wisen up if he wanted to get out alive. "Anyway were't we talking about poetry and you?" He tried to change the subject. He had shown before that he cared little about her true feelings inside, so why was she trying to probe him so?

Annaliese saw the tables being turned but she wasn't going to give in so easily. ""My past wasn't a secret. It was a memory, and a bad one at that." she snapped. "However, you know everything about me and poetry help you express yourself." She countered. "So what do you write about in there?" She glanced at his journal. She didn't want anything in exchange for his knowledge of her past, she just didn't get him. Though he may have not cared about her feelings or anything like that. She was the opposite.

Her questions relentlessly tugging at the secrets he kept locked up inside himself only put Osmund at further unease. Why she wanted to probe him so, he didn't understand. Perhaps she was lonely and was seeking companionship from someone who might've helped her in the slightest with the suggestion of writing poetry. He almost regretted his words know. He didn't need an abundance of friends and was wary with trusting the ones that he had.

"What's in my journal?" He clutched the book tighter to his body as if it were as vital as his heart and if he wasn't careful with it, a dangerous move could end his life. "My thoughts," he replied shortly, for Merlin knew his opinions were always coming out of his mouth whether people wanted to hear them or not. But his thoughts were locked up inside. Some of them were as simple as questioning thoughts on whether or not he was perhaps fancying a certain someone else. Others were more in depth, talking about his troubles with his family. Could his father really love him? What of this unheard of brother of his? "It's a mess, like my mind, but at least it gets some stuff out there, y'know?" He explained, hoping that if he said it was confusing, she wouldn't even want to try and decipher it.

Annaliese bit her lip slightly, "Honestly, who would under stand a messed up mind more than me?" She spoke softly to him. "I've got nothing against you, and I'm not asking you to trust me...but hoarding the anger and feelings inside you doesn't help. It just makes your a butt-head." She smirked a little.

"So what do you say?" She smiled, cocking her head to the side ready for his answer, hoping he'd open up. Maybe it wasn't so much she wanted to know about him, but she wanted to have someone to relate to. Or maybe it was that she wanted to know. Only Merlin knew, because she certainly didn't.

It was true that perhaps the one that would understand a messed up Osmund would be the also messed up Annaliese, but he wasn't one to open up to people immediately. He grinned at the notion that because he kept things brewing inside him he was, quote; "a butt-head." His hand consciously made it's way to his head as he thought to himself that his head was far from resembling a butt. 

"I..I can't," He said as she continued to pry, his journal close to his gut. He couldn't find the will to trust her. Not with his emotions like that. He had personal demons he had to deal with and honestly didn't want her to know about his experimental times with Xavior, all documented in his note book. His face sort of turned red then. "It's too much...of my soul. I can't just bare it like that. Please do not persist anymore." It was quite calm of him to remember using his manners when he was being questioned so. He didn't feel like fighting then, though. "Please."

Annaliese saw the pain in his eyes and sighed. She knew it wasn't easy for anyone to come out with their feelings. "Sorry about that." she apologized. "I didn't mean to push you. But you can tell me when your ready." Her soft smile was reassuring and full of splendor. 

She didn't know why she did it, but she suddenly stepped closer and hugged him and pulled away. "Take care of yourself Osmund." She turned away and headed out of the stables pondering the conversation that had just occurred. Smiling to herself she continued on. She'd done what she thought was right. She'd be for him if he needed her and maybe he would. Who knew!

Osmund was sinking down to a level of being desperate and he could not promise that he could keep his cool and wouldn't threaten to hex her again, this maybe actually doing so, if she had persisted. Fortunately, she had gotten the point and stopped, much to Osmund's relief. 

His back stiffened as her arms wrapped around him unexpectedly. His face changed colors slightly as he could never seem to get used to receiving hugs from people. It wasn't something he had grown up with and now that he was in a school full of strangers, he had expected people to keep their distance. "Ummmm, thanks...I think," He said in response to the care she had given him. Next thing he knew, she was walking off and all Osmund could do was stare, still mesmerized by the hug and pink in the face.