Messed Up Kids (Hunter)

It was another one of those nights, in which Agnes couldn't sleep and needed Hunter to keep her thinking about anything else other than bad memories. For a while now, Hunter had become a secret friend. Secret because Agnes wouldn't callnhim a friend to his face, nor would she brag about knowing him, but she was glad to have him near when she needed him, and to actually be there for him of he needed her too. Naturally, Agnes gave up in the twisting and turning and trying out every weird position in order to fall asleep and headed down to the Common Room. Hunter would be there as usual, he was always up late.

Agnes didn't bother carrying her sheet anymore, because she always fell asleep on the couch, listening to Hunter's voice, which had at some point become a soothing sound for her, something Agnes could fall asleep to without being afraid. That was why she liked him, he was annoying and ridiculous and too conceited, but he kept her demons away. Agnes was insanely thankful for him, but she wasn't going to tell anyone that. Not even Aislinn who had also become a good friend for Agnes. Her brown eyes held so much confusion as she noticed the Common Room was empty. Hunter was nowhere to be found.

Frowning, she crossed her arms over her chest and walked over to the same couch she always feel asleep on to sit down. This wasn't right. Hunter's absence was strange, like she was missing an important person and she couldn't do anythinng about it. Her eyes glanced up to the entrance to the Boys' Dormitories, and she thought for a second that maybe Hunter had just gone to bed already. It was already close to being one in the morning, and they'd stayed up a little bit past that one weekends, so maybe he'd been down and gotten tired. But, no. Hunter was usually the last one to go up to bed. Her eyes turned to the fireplace, and she decided to stay for a while, see if Hunter came down or not.

The minutes passed, and Agnes grew uncomfortable. Suddenly, she remembered what Hunter had told her a few nights ago. He often went to the Astronomy Tower to think and do other stuff Agnes didn't remember now. Her face lighting up, she jumped up and headed back to her dormitory to get dressed. If she planned on sneaking out of the Gryffindor Tower at this time, she couldn't go out with her cotton-candy pink onesie. Quickly changing into midnight-blue pajama pants, a white tank top, and pulling up a black hoodie over her head, she walked out o her dormitory again. Barefoot. Agnes had realized she liked walking around the school without shoes, simply because she was too lazy to put on shoes and she liked the feeling of the cold stone floor again her bare feet.

Agnes pushed the door of the Common Room open, and the annoying Fat Lady whispered something about curfew and rules and points taken off Gryffindor. "Oh, piss off!" Agnes rolled her eyes and closed the door quietly, ignoring the rest of the words coming out of the Lady's mouth. Not even a full semester in Hogwarts and that painting was the most annoying one in the whole Castle. She made her way down to the hallway so that she could crawl around the Middle Courtyard. The trees were dark and eerie, and the night sky was a deeper shade of blue mixed with the soft moonlight and there weren't any clouds, or at least not any that Agnes could see.

Putting her hands in the pocket of her hoodie, Agnes walked through the cold grass and decided she was crazy for going out in the middle of the night to look for Hunter. This only showed how dependent of him she was already. It wasn't even romantic, like she'd thought it was for a while. No, Agnes liked Hunter and Seren, but she wanted him to be with Aoife. She herself had no romantic feelings for her housemate and late-night conversation partner. In fact, her eyes always drifted in another direction...towards the Ravenclaw Hunter disliked so much. Ever since figuring out it was Evan Williams who was sending the annoying howlers, Agnes began to notice him more and more in ways she didn't before. She noticed the gray hues in his eyes, which were very visible from a distance. She noticed him with his cat, and how they seemed to share a friendship much more deeper than the one Agnes shared with her own pets.

She noticed how how he always stood tall and straight, with his hands in his pockets, a clean and fresh look fit for a Ravenclaw Head Boy. It was strange, really, how her view of him as a sexist jerk had changed so suddenly, but she also knew that it wasn't as sudden as she thought at first. She'd noticed his good looks from the very first time she met him, but she was blinded by offense and pride. And now, Evan was letting her know, in a sort of innapproiate and unreasonable way, that he liked her. And truth was, Agnes didn't mind. Evan Williams could be a sexist git, and Agnes would probably still talk to him. Heck, Agnes would even kiss him if she could. Another reason Agnes was stupid; she often let her hormones win instead of listening to her brain.

The grassy area was gone, and Agnes wiggled her toes as she stepped on the cold stone floor once again. Her toenails were painted a deep shade of matte pink, and she giggled for no reason at all. She liked this, sneaking out and walking around the Castle, in search of a boy who was more of a friend than anyone else at Hogwarts. Truthfully, she wished she could one day help Hunter too. She walked a few more minutes, passing hallways made of stone and the cold air blowing her light brown hair away from her face. Finally, sje reached the Astronomy Wing and was standing at the foot of the stairs that would lead her to the Tower.

Sighing, Agnes went up the first step, feeling a wave of disappointment because Hunter could also really be in bed and nowhere near the Astronomy Tower, and therefore he little adventure had been in vain. Hesitating, Agnes debated going back to the Dormitories and just staying in bed. It was Friday, and the younger students would wake up early to go to Hogsmeade and have fun, and if Hunter wasn't working then she could probably catch him later. Agnes had taken a step down, but then decided against it because she had come up all this way and couldn't turn around without making sure Hunter wasn't here. Decidedly, she walked up the stairs rather quickly and sighed as she faced the door.

Okay, moment of truth. Slowly, she opened the door and her lips curled into a grin as she made out the figure in front of her. His hands occupied, one holding on to the railing and the other holding a bottle, Hunter looked like a decorative statue. Still smiling, Agnes closed the door and spoke up. "Hey, thought you might be here." She walked up to stand next to him, and noticing the somewhat strange look in his eyes, her own brown orbs glanced down at what he was holding. "Are you...drunk?"

Time heals everything. Wasn't that how the saying went? Well whoever came up with that load of bullshit could fuck off, because they obviously had no idea what the hell they were talking about. Because time had passed, and Hunter's world was still just as broken as ever - he was still just as lost. And no matter how much he tried to run from it or hide from it or beat it into submission, it was always there. Always. That huge, gaping hole in his very being that he was sure would never be filled. He'd gotten better at the simple things - going to classes, talking to his friends, not completely shutting himself away. But none of it mattered. No matter what he did, who he talked to, how he distracted himself - Hunter knew that he would never be whole again.

Nothing fixed it - but some things did help. Help, in the sense that they distracted Hunter from his seemingly endless misery. Flying helped. Studying helped. And - surprisingly - Agnes Beaumont also helped. They weren't friends, Hunter and Agnes - not exactly. And definitely not in public. But Hunter would be lying if he were to say that their late-night conversations didn't lighten the weight on his shoulders, if only for a few hours. The weren't exactly friend material. He knew that there were moments when Agnes didn't like him, and there were definitely moments when he didn't like her. They were both strong-minded people whose opinions didn't always coincide. He was arrogant and she was judgmental. They were anything but compatible at times - but even if Hunter didn't always like Agnes, he'd grown to trust her and find comfort in her presence.

It had started with that one night, when Agnes had approached him. She'd stumbled across him by accident then. Hunter couldn't really distinguish at what point their meetings had turned from coincidence into habit, but he was no longer surprised when Agnes made her way from her dormitory and sank into the couch across from him. Hunter was always there. Agnes didn't join him every night, but her appearances gradually became more frequent. And, though it frustrated him, the sound of her light footsteps on the stairs always brought Hunter a slight feeling of relief. Because her presence meant one more night of distraction - a few more hours in which he didn't have to think.

But tonight, Hunter knew that Agnes wouldn't be enough to keep his mind off of his troubles - knew that it wasn't even fair to force her to be around him in the state that he would have been in. Because midnight was far more significant tonight than it had ever been before - midnight reminded Hunter that exactly one month ago, his brother had still been alive. Instead of passing time in the common room like he normally would, Hunter had grabbed a bottle of firewhiskey from under his bed and had left Gryffindor Tower altogether. There were a few places that Hunter went when he needed to be alone. His tree on the grounds, by the lake, was the most preferable spot. But late at night, when it would be a pain to trek all the way down to the grounds from the common room, Hunter opted instead for the astronomy tower.

Now, as he stood at the railing, staring out at the lake and the treeline of the forest beyond, his mind threatened to wander. As a defense, his hand lifted the bottle to his lips and tipped it back, and he took another swig of the searing liquid inside. The alcohol didn't really keep away his misery - but it did make the dark, depressing hours of the night go by faster. Hunter had found that when he drank, his mind couldn't work as quickly, and he was able to draw amusement from small, insignificant things. It was easier to distract himself. And wasn't that what his life was all about now? Distracting himself, and searching for the best way to do it?

And then, all of a sudden, he wasn't alone. A voice from behind him reached his ears, but it took a few moments longer for his brain to respond. By the time he'd turned to see who it was, she was already crossing the room. His mind quickly switching gears - unable to focus on more than one thing at a time - he watched her approach him, and without him really intending it to, a grin spread across his face. A grin that Agnes had probably never seen before - because, as much as they talked, Hunter didn't smile. Not really, and never without some level of force behind it. This was a real grin - an old-Hunter grin. A glimpse of who he used to be - who he could be, if his world weren't so clouded by darkness.

"Hey!" he replied, a few seconds too late, throwing his free arm lazily around the girl's shoulders. "Drunk?" he repeated, raising an eyebrow and looking down at her. "I guess it depends on what you consider drunk, exactly. But yeah, probably." That was definitely too many words at one time, and Hunter could hear the slightly drawn out way that he was saying them. Kind of like they were on a two second delay from when he'd intended to say them and when they actually left his mouth. "I told you I was a good thief," he reminded her, raising the bottle to eye-level in a toast like gesture before taking another swig.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked her, releasing her and turning to lean back against the railing, watching her. Hunter had never drank with anyone before - only by himself - and as he took in Agnes' features, he was bit thrown off. He'd always heard that people were supposed to look more attractive when you were drunk, but he hadn't really thought it was true. But now, he found himself wondering if Agnes had always looked like that, or if it was only because of the firewhiskey. After a moment, Hunter decided that it really didn't matter.

"You okay?" he added, his gaze still on her. He'd become used to her presence in the common room at night - but he was just processing the fact that they weren't in the common room. They were in the astronomy tower. And the fact that she'd actually left Gryffindor Tower to seek him out was surprising. Hunter had talked with Agnes enough to know that she had her own reasons for being up late - though she'd never talked about what they were. And then without a word, Hunter lifted the bottle of firewhiskey and held it out to Agnes. And somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he was glad that she'd turned up.

Hunter was definitely drunk. He smiled in a way that Agnes didn’t recognize, he was another person...someone Agnes didn’t recognize. His face was the same, his eyes were the same hazel-green she was used to, but he was different. It made her uncomfortable. Looking around, her brown eyes scanning their surroundings, Agnes shrunk back into her hoodie as Hunter placed his arm around her. This wasn’t right. Even the way he was speaking was different. Of course, Agnes figured this would happen, because maybe she’d heard him say it before or she had just assumed it from their talks, but seeing it happening was completely different than thinking about it.

She watched as he put the bottle to his lips again, and Agnes wanted to slap it out of him. She would have, if he’d kept his arm around her longer, but thankfully he wasn’t that stupid. Shrugging, Agnes tried to think of a reply. She could tell him the truth, that she really couldn’t sleep, but that would mean admitting that she missed talking to him. Or, she could tell him she was doing Astronomy homework, but she wasn’t registered in the class, and she didn’t know if Hunter was. ”More like...I didn’t have anything better to do.” She decided. It was also true, after all, that she had nothing else to do that night other than go looking for him. Staying in the dormitories and fearing falling asleep to terrible memories and watch her self-esteem dissolve was not something she was looking forward to do every night.

”What about you? Were you not able to fall asleep tonight?” Sometimes Agnes wondered if her word choice sounded strange to the British. She often thought the other students considered her weird, mainly because of the accent and her way of walking around making sure nobody messed with her. She also refused to wear the robes, not to mention that she always seemed to hang around some really strange Hufflepuffs. Agnes didn’t like being watched, but in that moment, it seemed okay for Hunter to do it. She didn’t mind him, at least not now. Giving him a small smile, Agnes nodded. She was technically okay, she could deal with it. There was nothing she couldn’t handle. Well, that was a lie. ”Do I not look okay?” She wondered, because maybe she looked too pale and had deep purple circles around her eyes. In fact, Agnes didn’t use mirrors as often as she should before going to bed, so the chances of looking ridiculous that night were reasonably high. ”I guess, I am. Just tired, maybe.”

Staring at the bottle Hunter offered, she was having an inner battle between what she knew she should do and what she wanted to do. If it were up to her, she’d pick up the bottle and drink it all, get drunk with Hunter and maybe fall off the Tower and Accio her broom at the last second. Agnes wanted adrenaline, but her mind told her to look at things clearly. She should excuse herself, say goodnight and leave him to deal with himself, get herself out of trouble. Blinking, as though that would have an influence on her decision, Agnes took the bottle from Hunter’s hand. Putting it to her lips, she debated for a millisecond, right before tipping it and drinking the fiery liquid. In an instant, her whole body was filled with a burning sensation, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her laugh at how insane everything felt. She wasn’t drunk yet, but she liked the idea of doing things she shouldn’t do. To her, that was drunk enough.

”Hunter, is this firewhiskey?” She asked him, giving the bottle back and coughing for a few seconds, her body and brain trying to get over what she had just drank. Her eyes turned to him, and seeing him leaning against the railing, Agnes spoke without thinking. ”You look kind of amazing tonight.” It was strange to hear it out loud, because it had sounded like a compliment in her head, but now it seemed like she was hitting on him. Her face scrunching up for a second, Agnes said, ”Sorry, that sounded different in my head.” Even though he was drunk already, and Agnes would most likely just fall asleep, she was much calmer already.

Hunter wasn't really paying attention to the way that Agnes made herself smaller when he put his arm around her - but he was vaguely aware of the fact that it was probably the closest he'd ever been to her, really. He and Agnes stayed up late together. They talked. He stayed on his couch and she stayed on hers. They weren't real friends. Hunter didn't touch her. She wasn't like Ariel, who - when they had been friends - Hunter had no problem being close with. Wrapping his arms around Ariel in greeting, tugging on her hair - those actions came so naturally that Hunter didn't realize he was doing them. This came naturally, too, with Agnes, but only because his inhibitions were decreasing by the minute. Physical contact wasn't something that he would have pursued with her, or even considered pleasant, were he sober.

But he wasn't sober. Which meant that he didn't have to worry about that shit. He raised an eyebrow at Agnes when she answered him. "It's one in the morning - nobody has anything better to do at this time," he said pointedly, his empty hand lightly gripping the railing behind him. "You're just too stubborn to admit that you missed me," he joked, an uncharacteristically playful smirk slipping onto his face. "You can say it, you know, I won't judge you - I can't even promise that I'll remember you said it, actually. I might not even remember that you were here. Who knows." Where was he even going with this? Probably nowhere important.

In the middle of him trying to figure out if he had a point, Agnes threw another question at him. And instantly, his grin faded. That was the strange thing about being drunk. Hunter could go from high to low in two seconds, and not even remember how he'd gotten there. Or not care. Either way. "I'm not able to sleep any night," he responded darkly, even in his drunken state avoiding the deeper, truer response to her question. But he wasn't controlled now - not like he normally was - like he'd trained himself to become. And he knew that his tone expressed far more than it usually did. Far more than he trusted Agnes to understand. "You know that," he added, trying to sound casual, but his mind continued to wander. His mind flitted back to Ariel - if he hadn't ruined their relationship, she would help him. She would understand. But Ariel wasn't there.

"No, it's not that. I just didn't expect you to come here, that's all." Hopefully she didn't take his words the wrong way and think that she wasn't welcome. It was strange really, because she actually wasn't welcome. Not before. But now that she was here, Hunter wasn't as rushed to get rid of her as he thought. "If you're tired, and you just had nothing better to do," Hunter quoted, returning her smile and focusing instantly on her words in order to stay on a less miserable track, "Then why'd you come all the way up here?" His tone wasn't joking this time, really. Something was wrong - something was always wrong when Agnes came to see him. He knew it. But he never asked what it was. Even now, he wasn't asking directly. But he didn't care enough to keep the curiosity from his voice. He watched her for another moment, tilting his head slightly.

Hunter watched on as Agnes hesitated to take the bottle. "Really?" he said, a hint of surprise in his voice. "I never would've guessed," he commented, a laugh rising in his voice. "I mean, you're this bad ass french girl who attacks people when they piss you off, but you're afraid of a little alcohol?" It was definitely backward from the way Hunter had imagined her. When she finally took the bottle from him, Hunter kept his arm outstretched. Because if this was her first time trying it, he was one thousand percent certain that it would be back within his grasp pretty instantly. He snorted in amusement as she started coughing, taking the bottle back. "Sure is!" he told her proudly when she asked what it was. "Let me guess, they don't have this in France, either?"

Hunter wasn't sure that anything could throw him off in this state, but Agnes' next words definitely came close. Mostly because he'd never expected to hear them come out of her mouth. The corner of his mouth turned up, like it might have in the past when someone boosted his ego, but he didn't respond immediately. He just raised an eyebrow at Agnes, watching her as she immediately rushed into an explanation. "Like I said, I probably won't remember," he reminded her, taking another drink of firewhiskey before stepping away from the railing and pushing the bottle back into her hands. "But thanks. I could wait until you're equally as drunk to tell you that you aren't so bad yourself, but it's not exactly a secret," he said with an amused look, shrugging. People read far too much into things. Hunter was just stating a fact. There was nothing wrong with that.

Shrugging again, Agnes decided to ignore Hunter’s comment. It would have been perfectly normal for her to not have anything to do at one in the morning, which proved her point anyway. Wait, did he just dare say something like that to her? No, Agnes, don’t let it get to you. Laughing it off, Agnes said, “What can I say? Your presence is too much not to miss.” She hated the small fact that there was a little bit of truth in that statement. She took comfort in knowing that Hunter was insanely drunk, and like he said, wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning. She was kind of amazed, though, that he had a knack for switching personalities in one second. When he snapped at her, Agnes didn’t do anything. She didn’t even blink, because she’d gotten used to his sharpness, his way of dealing with his pain.

Surprisingly, Agnes had never asked him about it. After a while, it just became something she knew and it wasn’t something that he wanted to talk to her about, so there was no point in trying to ask. Regardless of how great Hunter could be, she wanted things to stay the way they were: simple. Talking about that, about his loss, would mean that he trusted to an extent, and Agnes wasn’t sure she could handle that yet. These kinds of things, Agnes had been trying to avoid and was succeeding. Hunter wasn’t going to be the one to corrupt her success. ”Really? Because, I’d say you were trying to lure me here so you could throw me off the Tower.” she smiled, trying to lighten the mood with some dark comedy. She laughed as she remembered ‘Train Bitch’.

Ah, there it was. The question Agnes was also trying to avoid. ”I can leave if you want me to.” She offered, backing away a little bit, enough to make it clear that she didn’t care if he wanted her to go. In fact, she cared just enough about Hunter to leave him alone if he needed it. Even though, the truth was, she didn’t want to be alone. This had been a terrible idea, because Hunter was asking questions, and Agnes wanted to share her answers with someone, but that would mean having to listen to him in return, and it would lead to the basics of a friendship. Not sure on what to say, she decided to ignore that question too. Better to pretend she didn’t hear it than to start something she couldn’t finish.

”Hunter, I don’t drink.” She rolled her eyes, as if it were a fact he should have known from the very first time they met. ”And, I’m not afraid of it. I’m just not used to it.” She enjoyed what he called her, though: a bad ass french girl. She took pride in not letting anyone mess with her, regardless of how little friendships it brought. There was one attack she regretted...and that was Evan’s. Shaking her head to keep her mind from wandering off to meet her silly fantasies in which he came up to her, dressed as sexy Roman soldier and kissed her hand in greeting, her thoughts were interrupted when she realized she was looking at Hunter’s face. Obviously, Hunter wasn’t nearly as physically perfect as Evan Williams. Damn the hormones. Damn them.

When her coughing session was over, she glanced at Hunter. ”Don’t laugh at me!” she ordered, but she couldn’t help the smile forming in her lips as she realized what a poor excuse for a teenager she was. She didn’t drink, she didn’t go to parties, and she had never experienced recreational drugs. ”They do. But I’ve never had it.” she informed him, because by now he probably thought France was the worst country to ever exist.

She smiled a little at his reaction, ”Don’t go around boasting about it, though. You’re not that good-looking.” She hoped he wouldn’t take that to heart, but with Hunter...she never knew. Thankfully, he was still pretty drunk and his sense and brain weren’t working, which was great. She took the bottle and watched as he walked away, wondering whether she should follow him or stay where she was. Deciding to keep her independence, she took a sip of the fiery drink. What he said confused her, but it wasn’t something she really wanted to ask about so she pushed it back into her folder of things she should have asked but didn’t want to. “I bet, Aoife must look like a goddess in your eyes. Right now, at least.” The funny thing was, Agnes had no idea what Aoife looked like. Without realizing, she had taken another sip of the firewhiskey and was thinking about something else...something involving Chasen. Her brown eyes suddenly clouded and she had to turn around to face the open space, otherwise, Hunter would have been a witness to her weakness.

Raising his bottle slightly in acknowledgement of Agnes' statement, Hunter smirked. "Bet you never thought you'd say that the first time we met, huh?" he said, laughing a bit. "You know, sometimes I wish I'd met you last year. You might've actually liked me, then." Hunter took another drink, thinking about it for a minute. It wasn't that Agnes didn't like him now. But after getting to know her, he'd realized quickly that she was somebody that he would've appreciated - respected - if he'd met her before. Now, though he did like her most of the time, she was mostly just somebody whose presence he used to keep his thoughts off of everything else. There was real life, and then there was Agnes. "Then again, you might've thought I was an even bigger git than I am now," he added, grinning.

Agnes skirted around his question, but in truth Hunter hardly noticed. He was already focusing on what she was saying, and he snorted in amusement as he listened to her words. "Please," he scoffed. "Believe me, if I intended to lure a girl up to the astronomy tower, it wouldn't be to throw her off of it." Clearly. Evan is the one that I'd like to shove off of the astronomy tower," he reminded her. "Not you. I'd actually be moderately sad if you plummeted to your death." Was that a compliment? Maybe. Hunter wasn't sure if he'd intended it to be one, and he couldn't think on it too long, because his head was spinning.

The next thing that he knew, Agnes was backing away and offering to leave. "No," Hunter said too quickly, his hand reaching out to catch her arm out of impulse, pulling her back toward him. The moment he realized that he'd done it, he let let go, his arm falling limply back to his side. "No, that's not what I meant. Stay," he said, his voice softer now, but steady. He couldn't admit to her that he was glad she was there - couldn't admit to himself that maybe, on some deep, desperate level, he needed her there - but he raised his eyes to meet hers and wondered if they gave him away.

"Correction," Hunter said lazily. "You didn't drink." There was no reason to tell her that Hunter didn't drink not too long ago either. "But starting now, you do. Because I've successfully peer pressured you into it. I can be pretty persuasive and shit." It was a lie, because Hunter hadn't done any persuading. Not in the slightest. He'd just held out the bottle and she'd eventually taken it. But it was likely that she just wanted to be cool like him and do whatever he was doing. He ignored her when she told him not to laugh. "Hey, it isn't my fault that you can't handle liquor." Again, Hunter kept it to himself that he'd gagged just as bad the first time he'd tried it.

Agnes was telling him not to go around boasting? "Do you realize who you're talking to?" he asked her good-naturedly. "And maybe not, but I'm still better looking than you," he joked, stepping past her. He wasn't really sure where he was headed - he had no intention of leaving the tower. He just couldn't stay in one place for very long without feeling the need to wander. But he stopped a few feet away from her when she spoke again, and turned to stare at her, not really sure how to respond. "What makes you say that?" he asked sharply, but then answered her. Because why not? "Goddess isn't exactly the word I'd use. But I don't need to be drunk to see how pretty Aoife is." Maybe Aoife wasn't actually pretty at all - maybe he was just biased toward Irish-looking people because they'd been best friends for so long when they were young. "Of course, my girlfriend is pretty attractive, too," he said, mostly to remind Agnes that he had a girlfriend. And it wasn't Aoife.

Time to change the subject. Hunter took another drink of his firewhiskey and walked past Agnes again, reaching the nearest wall and sliding down it until he was sitting with his back resting against it. "I won't bite, you know," he said, inclining his head to beckon her to sit next to him. It was a mix of curiosity, a desire to change the subject, and a need to listen to her voice rather than think his own thoughts that pushed him forward. "Agnes, why are you here? Why do you come find me at night?" he asked her, his brow furrowing. "When we met, in the common room. You said I'm not the only one with demons." He wasn't sure how he'd remembered that in his present state. "So what are yours?" His words were probably slurring more by the moment, but now that he'd started, he wasn't about to back away from the question. "What's your story, Agnes? Really?"

Arrogance was probably Hunter’s trademark trait. Smiling, Agnes shrugged it off. “Yeah, yeah.” Her hands struggled to keep still, and her fingers found the hem of her sleeve and they tugged at it playfully. She wasn’t sure why she had come after Hunter in the first place. Was it all just a desperate need to see him and have him keep her mind from wandering? Why couldn’t she do that with something or someone else, like maybe play chess. Without thinking about it, she looked up at him. “What were you like before?”  There was a side of him, lots of sides, really, that she didn’t know of. Everyone else did, and it felt like she was missing out on something important, but then she remembered she wasn’t exactly welcome in that world.

Grimacing, Agnes almost gave him a laugh. It was fun to even think of him in a relationship, because he didn’t seem like that kind of person. Evan Williams was brought up, and it wasn’t by her lips. Her heart skipped a beat at the sound of his name, and Agnes realized that she was most likely crushing unreasonably fast for the Seventh Year. Yes, Agnes knew he was a Seventh Year because of the Head Boy announcement. Raising an eyebrow, she said, “See? I wouldn’t lure Williams up here to throw him off.” Wait, did I just say that? Agnes was no longer caring much about what came out of her mouth, but she still had a sense of decency. When he accepted he’d at least feel a bit upset about her death, Agnes smirked. “Accept it, I’m pretty much as amazing as you could be.”  

When Hunter grabbed her arm, Agnes was suddenly scared. It’s not that she had an issue with being touched, it was that she didn’t want to be touched by anyone she didn’t like. She wasn’t even sure if she had a reason to dislike the situation, but the thought of Hunter’s violence in the train reminded her of how easily he could hurt her if he wanted to. Especially now that he wasn’t exactly stable. She wasn’t scared of him, not really, but she just...She couldn’t stand it. Thankfully, he let go and Agnes thanked whatever guardian angel she could have, if they even existed. Turning to look away, she muttered a simple okay.

Feeling relieved shortly after, Agnes was able to return to her normal state. She almost laughed when he bragged about peer pressuring her into drinking. “You did no such thing. I drank from it all on my own!”   But seriously, who was she talking to? A drunk Hunter wasn’t the same as the Hunter she had known before. Agnes was taking that question quite literally, even though it was likely he didn’t mean it that way. She just laughed at his commentary, because it was true, she just didn’t want to tell him that. His ego was already massive enough without her having to add to it. Hunter moved around, he was a restless drunk it seemed. Shrugging, she said, “Dunno.” No need to explain in detail why he liked him with a girl she’d never met. His reaction was priceless, though, and Agnes smirked at him without really meaning to.

Turning to look at him, she wondered whether this was okay. This sharing? This...whole thing. When he offered a spot next to him, Agnes took it without question. She was getting what she wanted, right? “I might.” she joked, hugging her knees close to her chest. Her demons? Many. Her story? She wasn’t sure. There were many things she wanted to tell people, important things, but she couldn’t find the words to say them. Agnes hadn’t always been so stubborn, so reckless and hot-headed. She used to be a happy child, a little girl who wore her hair in pigtails with bows and sparkly sweaters. Then, she was a preppy teenager, with dresses and clean hair and the one who always looked at people in the eyes. After Chasen, she became a little more picky, a little more careless. She became cautious with people, to the point of violence when her well-being was threatened. She became what Hunter knew. Deciding it would have to be said sooner or later, Agnes took a sip of the firewhiskey and rested her head against the wall, facing Hunter.

“I was fifteen when I met a boy. He was...perfect.” It was amazing how familiar the words felt, regardless of the fact that she had never said them aloud to a stranger. “Really. He was. Chasen was funny, and caring, and he liked photography and...he liked me. Up until I met him, I never really thought of myself in any other way aside from just Agnes. But Chasen made me feel special, like I was worth it.” She wasn’t sure if it made sense, anything she was saying, because at some point, between the cloudiness of her thoughts and the emotions, her own voice had become almost mechanical. “Ansel loved him, and so did my parents. It was amazing how easily he won them over. Of course, I was stupid and…” She took another sip. “I gave myself to him.” She hoped she wouldn’t have to explain what she meant, because she might just throw herself off the tower if he didn’t get it.

Her eyes still on him, she found it easier to let the words go and the tears came just as naturally. “Few weeks after that, he told me he was headed in a different direction than I was. That I was too young for him.”  Her eyes clouded and she became lightheaded, and suddenly she wanted to take out her anger and frustration on Hunter. Simply because he was a guy. Turning away from him, she rested her gaze on her fingers, focusing on her nails. “Then, about a month later or so, I saw him with another girl.”  The statement hurt more than the memory, but there was no way she could keep it with her anymore. Telling Ansel and her aunt was one thing, but telling another person who was hurt even more so than she was, was different. “She had pink hair. Pink!”  The tears weren’t falling like rivers, they were just there, stuck somewhere between embarrassment and indignation.

She took another drink of the fiery liquid, and just as her throat started to burn, Agnes gave up. Tears rolled down in ways she hadn’t expected, in ways they only did when she was alone, and she found herself reaching out for the bottle again. Firewhiskey was easy to get used to. In reality, Agnes wasn’t sure why she was crying. She was upset for so many reasons. She hated Chasen for being a jerk, for luring her in and taking her, but she hated herself more than anyone else. “I wasn’t enough for him, and I won’t be enough for anyone, Hunter.” She said, regaining her strength and forcing the tears to stop. Wiping them away with the palms of her hands, she continued, “I used to hear things about people who hate themselves, who think the worst! And I would wonder, how can they feel that way? And now, I’m one of them.” Her aunt told her that there was no worse hatred than the one people felt for themselves, and she was right. Hunter could hate her, he could hate how she kicked him and how she came to him to keep her mind off things, and Evan Williams could hate her too, and she wouldn’t care for the heartbreak as much as she cared for the fact that she didn’t like what she saw in the mirror.

It wasn’t even that she thought herself ugly, she just hated seeing herself and looking at every other girl and realize that her hair wasn’t as pretty as theirs. She wasn’t as thin as they were. She wasn’t them. Agnes was tired of what she was, but through her eyes there was no way to change it. Her reasons for being so reckless, so stubborn, were hers and hers alone. Choosing to share them with Hunter VanDerberg was a decision she made based on emotion and the fact that he was drunk enough to not remember any of it the next morning.[/color][/color]

What was he like before? His smile faltered as he registered her question, but the alcohol prevented his walls from slamming up as quickly as they might have if she'd asked it any other time. And in his momentary failure to react, his thoughts began to spin. Before. That word hung in the air between them - the clearest reminder of what had happened. Ever since Jack's death, Hunter had lived in a constant state of befores and afters - his life was divided now, and there was no way to force it back together again. The chasm between before and after was so great that he could never even hope to make it back to the other side. What was he like before? He'd made a mistake, in allowing himself to think about it. Because now that his mind had wrapped around it, the alcohol was making it hard to keep his response in his head.

"Before," he repeated, his eyes on her face, searching for her reaction. And then, he answered her. "I was a git," he started casually, not able to begin with anything more serious. "Just - a different kind of git. Not the kind that would carry a girl out of a train compartment for breathing the wrong way..." Hunter trailed off some, suddenly cautious about the whole subject. But he'd already started, and he was talking again before he could stop himself. "Let's put it this way. You know how, no matter what school you go to, there's always that one person who's pretty much perfect? Perfect life, everything always goes their way? And it isn't even an act - they really just have that great of a life?" It was strange, because even though he was describing himself, Hunter felt as though he was talking about a stranger. Because nothing that he was explaining applied to him anymore. "That was me."

Was. Saying it out loud was like a sharp stab in the gut. "Serious wasn't my style," he admitted, taking a swig of firewhiskey to enable himself to continue. "I used to be able to find something to laugh about no matter what. I loved my life. I had great friends, an amazing girlfriend... the best family..." The best brother. Pushing past that subject, he chose another. "But you know, I was still a jerk - same as now, really. And I guess Karma's more of a bitch than I thought." Hunter was sure that he deserved payback for some of the things that he'd done in the past. But he had never expected his Karma to build up, avoid him - bide its time, and then attack all at once, with interest. That wasn't how it was supposed to work. But that was what had happened.

"I spent most of my time with Seren, or Ariel. People don't really like Seren much, but she's a good person. You just have to get to know her. And Ariel is just - she's amazing." Had he ever even mentioned Ariel to Agnes. Did she have any idea that they were friends? "She's a Veela and a metamorphagus. Once, she turned her face into a dragon and scared me so bad that I actually fell over." Hunter wasn't sure when the smile had formed on his face, but the memory had brought it. "She's been my best friend for years - she still would be, if I wasn't such a git." And then, his smile was gone, and his mind was flooded instead with memories of his last interaction with Ariel. And damn did he miss her. A sigh escaped his mouth, but even so, he couldn't help but notice that a small, almost undetectable weight, seemed to have lifted from his shoulders through what he'd just shared. Because until now, he hadn't mentioned his fight with Ariel to anyone.

Hunter wasn't really sure what her look was supposed to mean in response to his statement. Was she amused or offended? She was kind of one of those weird feminist kind of people, so maybe she thought it was an insult for him to say that - not that he cared. "Just a joke," he assured her, holding his hands up in front of him defensively. Wait, what did she just say. "Okay, I know that you aren't drunk yet," he said, looking at Agnes like she'd grown another two heads. Should he be amused or concerned? In the end, he chose to go with incredulous amusement. "Is luring Evan Williams up to the astronomy tower to not throw him off on your bucket list then?" he asked, stressing the words to imply that he knew what they stood for.

Wait. Was she actually going to answer him? Hunter angled his head to look at Agnes as she came to sit beside him, curious as to what she was going to say. What could this girl, who had so far remained a relative mystery to him despite how much they had talked, have wrong with her life? He found that he was already straining his ears to hear her before she'd even started speaking. Maybe, some part of him was hoping to hear that she'd been through something equally as bad as him. Maybe he wanted to know that life was a bitch to somebody other than him. Maybe, if Agnes had been put through some miserable, horrendous situation - one that would put his own to shame - he wouldn't feel so bad about his own life. Though he knew that, even were that the case, he wouldn't feel any better.

But the words that came out of her mouth weren't even close to what he'd expected. A boy? Hunter couldn't quite hide his surprise as he stared at her, those words echoing in his head. Somehow, between their late night conversations and Agnes' quickness to anger and the closed off, cautious manner that she had, Hunter had been been quick to assume that they were more or less the same. Maybe others couldn't see it, but being as shattered as Hunter was himself, he had come to realize quickly that Agnes was broken. And maybe he'd just deluded himself into thinking that she'd been broken by something terrible. But a boy? He was judging her - already, before she'd started, he could feel his opinion of her morphing. She'd been broken by a guy. She was one of those girls who thought she was in love with the first guy who paid her any attention, and who let it completely destroy her when she found out that he wasn't who she thought. Agnes wasn't anything like him.

Despite the opinions already swarming through his mind, Hunter forced himself to remain quiet, watching on in silence as Agnes took some of the firewhiskey before she continued. And the longer he listened, the more sure he was that he knew where this story was going. As she talked, he could feel his irritation rising slightly, though it was mostly subdued by the alcohol. How dare this girl make him think that she'd gone through something terrible - something that could rival his own misery? She was just a stupid girl who had been gullible enough to trust some asshole guy. He was perfect, she had said. Please.

But then, just as Hunter felt like he might actually snap at her - tell Agnes that it was really her own fault - she reached the turning point of her story. It wasn't like he was surprised. He'd figured it would come to this by the way she'd started. She thought she loved him, she'd slept with him, and he'd left her. No, what surprised him wasn't that Agnes had let some jerk take advantage of her - though at some level, knowing Agnes, it did surprise him to an extent. The surprise came with the tears, and as they slid down the girl's cheeks, Hunter felt his anger lessen, until it was nothing more than a small, dying ember in the back of his mind. Because there was something really terrible about seeing somebody that you'd known to be so strong crumble in front of you, no matter what the reason.

And suddenly, as she finished her story, he could see the change in her - could see her break. And it hit him suddenly, like a punch in the face, that Agnes was only sixteen. That, though she was a few months older than him, she was so young - that they all were, even if Hunter felt like he'd aged years overnight. Just because he and his siblings had been put through something that no teenager should ever have to go through didn't mean that the rest of the world had to age with them. Agnes was distraught - she was broken. Because she'd made a mistake. And in a normal world, for a normal sixteen year old, that was more than enough reason to feel haunted.

Hunter remained where he was, his arms resting on his knees, while Agnes tried to pull herself together. If it were anyone else - Ariel, Aoife, his sisters - he would've wrapped his arms around her. That was still who he was. But this was Agnes. And somehow, he knew that it would be the wrong decision - and at some level, he still found her grief insignificant enough that he didn't want to help her in that way. It wasn't until she finished completely and fell silent that Hunter even bothered trying to respond. Because, really, how was he supposed to respond to that? While he thought about it, he took the bottle from her and took a swig before setting it down beside her so that she could have more if she wanted.

"You made a mistake, trusting him," Hunter started carefully, glancing over at her. "But you're an idiot if you think for a second that you weren't good enough." Hunter hesitated, having to take an extra moment to calm his spinning head, before continuing. "You were part of a game that you didn't know you were playing. One that was fixed so that you would never win. There are fucked up people like that out there, Agnes." He was mostly talking now because he felt like he should. He had to say something. Because really, she'd confided more in him than he'd ever expected to. And he couldn't just leave her sitting there without a proper response.

"The girl that I met on the train - the person that I've been talking to at night - she'd isn't the kind of person to let some prick make her feel worthless." It occurred to him in that moment that, like him, Agnes had her own before and after. Who she was before this git, and who she'd become after him. He supposed that, if someone were to look at him now, as cold and heartless as he seemed at times, they might think that he'd never be affected deeply by anything - even death. And maybe they were right, but the problem with that thinking was that it was too late. Too late for him - too late for Agnes. Because the damage was already done. It didn't do anyone any good to harden themselves after the fact. Because no matter what kind of walls they put up, they would always be weak and destroyed on the inside. "And for the record, I thought you were pretty impressive, even when I first met you. You're strong. You stand up for yourself, you don't take anybody's shit, you're hot. You're the last person that should be feeling sorry for yourself. You should be proud of who you are." Had he really just gotten all those words out? Hunter wasn't really sure how, but God did he hope he didn't remember this in the morning, because it was really pushing his comfort zone with Agnes a bit further than he'd planned.