Awkward Turtle

Xavior sat down at an empty table, nursing a hot cup of tea. He stared nervously at the other people gathered in the tavern, blushing every time he made eye contact with another patron. He missed having his bass in his hand, as he had almost constantly all summer. He felt awkward and exposed without the barrier of an instrument between him and the world. He sighed started tapping a beat against the table and humming.

Seated at a table near to Osmund, someone was tapping. Though the tapping was rhythmic, the boy was already miffed about Helena and then the incident with the over sweetened tea, so that just the mere sound of it was making him irate.

With a fluid motion, the dark haired boy turned to face the tapping boy with glasses and hissed as he spoke, "cut it out!" If his own command wouldn't work on the boy, then he'd be more than happy to provide more intimidation. However, his cold eyes averted back to where he sat on his own as his fingers traced the porcelain of his teacup. He stole a glance at Helena, seeing the woman happily chatting to another wizard while eating her lunch. Osmund scoffed. "Take your own time, why won't you. S'not like we're supposed to do anything important today." He spoke to himself, annoyance apparent in his voice. He just wanted to get this over with.

"Sorry." Xavior muttered. He went back to quietly sipping his tea. The boy that had shushed him frightened him a bit. He wasn't used to people being so forward with their irritation so he ducked his head and kept his fingers from tapping though they were itching to do so.

The boy had apologized and obeyed, but sunk back like a turtle in his shell. Osmund rolled his eyes. What was the use of backbone lacking people. Just by looking at him, Osmund could tell he'd make easy prey for any upperclassman. Osmund almost felt pity for the lad, and with another roll if his eyes, the dark haired boy slunk over tithe seat across from the tapping boy.

"Why did you give in so easily?" Osmund asked, a serious look on his face as he stared at the quest boy. He wasnt bullying as much as he was teaching the kid a lesson. He'd thank him when he managed to not get eaten alive at school. "Is it cause your glasses are stupid? What's the matter? You gotta speak up, mate. There's people who will take advantage of your lack of guts," Osmund preached, his look straight all the while through it. He sighed when he found it hopeless and looked for a moment as if he were about to get up and leave.

"You're a prick." Xavior said, more self-assured in his anger. "And my glasses are not stupid. Jealous that you couldn't pull it off?" He smirked. He was angry at this boy, this boy that didn't know him but thought he did.

Suddenly th boy was speaking again and the words that he said made Osmund laugh. "Why thank you, sir," Osmund bowed his head a bit, clearly not phased. He was an angsty young teenager and heard words like that from the muggle children on the block all the time regarding him.

"I beg your pardon! You couldn't pay me to wear those," Osmund shook his head. He was proud of his perfect vision and that it allowed him to stay away from fashion trends like that.

"And you couldn't pay me enough to talk to you any longer." Xavior said and his chair screeched across the floor as he scooted it back. "I'm leaving. Hope I never see your prick face again."