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Charming has a number of lonely plots looking for love. Why not take a gander and see what hijinks your character can get up to? — Kayte ( Submit your own)
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Wallace Bixby for Sloane Bixby.
...tfw your little sister makes the house team before you do.
He has touched my ankle and seen me with my hair down (not intentionally, of course!), so I'm pretty sure I already know what it feels like to be married.Helga Scamander in Helga's Boy Book
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Complete seven threads where your character displays each of the Seven Deadly Sins — Pride, Lust, Sloth, Envy, Wrath, Gluttony, and Greed!

Queens Don't
November 14th, 1890 - GCR
@Cameron Gillenwater

No, I don't need the tallest tower
To prove to anyone I ain't weak
I turn my pain into power
Every tear's a diamond on my cheek

As much as she usually looked forward the Hogsmeade visits, Sloane just hadn't been able to bring herself to traipse through town when she was still feeling lousy. The nurse had been adamant that she would have felt better by now, almost two weeks later, but Sloane could still feel everything settled in her chest and the cough had returned with a vengeance. She was trying to downplay it though; she couldn't handle the pitying looks much longer. In never having been the kind to enjoy being fussed over, having everybody constantly asking her if she was alright was not going to last much longer before she snapped.

Most everyone else had departed for the day and it seemed like most of the first and second years were taking advantage of the sunny day outside, so Sloane had climbed the stairs to the common room with the intention of taking a nap. Breakfast had been pretty uneventful, everyone discussing their plans for town, but Sloane hadn't been listening too closely. Alice's absence had been duly noted and it pained Sloane to know she was partly to blame. After the disagreement with Sisse, Sloane had done the same, she knew what it felt like and why she would want to distance herself. Hopefully things would come around again, like she and Sisse had.

Splash had found her halfway up to the common room and followed her the rest of the way up. With her intention of taking a good nap, Sloane only paused momentarily in the common room to grab the books she'd accidentally left there last night when she realized the portrait hole was swinging open behind her. "I thought you were going into town?" She cocked her head to the side when Cam came striding in. It was going to look highly suspicious, especially to Sisse and Alice now.

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Cameron obviously didn't want to be caught, but with Alice and Sisse already aware of his relationship with Sloane, he didn't feel as though he needed to be so stiff in his manner of speaking to or about Sloane. Between the side glances every time she coughs and his worried expression every time she seemed to stumble through her words, it was obvious that he was worried about her—and obvious that her recovery wasn't going as smoothly. But it wasn't Sloane that he used as an excuse for abandoning his friends as they departed for Hogsmeade, but their breakfast.

He'd made three comments over the course of the meal about how his plate of food didn't taste just right. He'd first complained about the temperature of the eggs, then about how undercooked he believed the meat to be. Once they were beginning to leave, he made a comment about his stomach, leaving nobody to argue when he claimed it would be better for him to stay. Of course a few of them would be suspicious, but altogether it was a solid plan. Or he'd hoped so.

"You look miserable," he responded as he walked through the portrait and into the common room. It hadn't taken him too long to catch up with her, which was also concerning; the thought of her falling down the stairs now permeated his thoughts and he couldn't help but be a wee bit protective. "And now I have a stomachache," he added, eyebrows raised pointedly as he found a spot on the couch.

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Sloane's brows furrowed and she pursed her lips at his comments. "I am miserable thank you very much and you are a terrible liar." She wasn't very good at hiding things from people let alone him, but she hadn't expected him to make up an excuse to stay back with her. So much for her nap.

"I was going to nap," She informed him rather matter-of-factly. Which would be much more comfortable and easily done in her own bed curled up with Splash in the quiet and the dark, rather than half-awake in the common room, but she wasn't about to appear too ungrateful for his company. Coughing into her sleeve, she passed him a look that clearly said she would rather be sleeping. "I just can't seem to kick the cough." She'd done everything the nurse had told her too, the potions, sleep, rest, no quidditch, get a little fresh air, all of it, but she felt like she was sliding backwards.

"What're you going to do if I fall asleep?" She quirked an eyebrow at him and flopped down onto the couch next to him, but not too close; anybody could walk in at any minute and the last thing they needed was some second year, or Merlin forbid, Greta, getting the wrong impression.

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Cameron shot her a sheepish smile, but quickly wiped it off his face and replaced it with an unconvincing stern look. "I was not lying," he lied, knowing very well that she knew he was lying. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back into the couch as he watched her find a spot a few feet away from him—close enough to send a momentary spike of panic through his chest, but also far enough that he felt the urge to scoot a little closer. He hated this.

"What you need is a better medicine. I usually trust the nurse, but I don't think her plan is working," he said, quite miserably too. He wouldn't be able to stand going another week watching her suffer; no amount of sleep had taken the cough, and the medicine had done nothing but make her a living inferius. (Of course, he was no healer, but he still sort of wanted to be, even if he refused to talk about it. If, by some miracle, he became one, he would never rest while a patient looked this awful.)

He didn't want her to think he pitied her, but he couldn't act as though he wasn't worried, because he was and moreover he cared about her. Deeply. A bit overbearingly. He hoped he wasn't being annoying.

"If you need to nap, I won't stop you," he said in a low voice, his gaze flickering back and forth between the entrance to the dormitories and the spot where Sloane was resting. If only he was allowed into the girls' dorms, he might be able to grab her things. Well, he might not be able to go into her dorm, but... "Do you want me to fetch you a blanket? Anything?"

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Sloane's expression said she clearly didn't believe him, but she wasn't going to say anything more on it either. She was positive Sisse, and probably Alice would see right through that facade, but hopefully nobody else would notice.

"I don't know what what I'm supposed to be doing. Maybe if it's not better by mid-week I'll go back up." She sighed and made herself comfortable on the sofa. Splash jumped up between them and made herself a cozy spot on Sloane's slippered feet. The cat, though only a few months old now, was massive, the size of a small dog really. Sloane suspected are was part kneazle mixed with some already large cat breed.

A yawn turned into a cough and Sloane couldn't help the following wince. Her stomach muscles were so sore from all of the coughing and she wondered if she hadn't fractured a rib or something. "I won't say no to a blanket, I haven't been warm in weeks." At least that's what it felt like.

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He purposefully didn't look at her as she stared at him in disbelief and even allowed a smile to slip on his face. He was teasing, of course—but even then, he would insist that he hadn't been that unconvincing with their friends. He'd been hanging around her a lot lately. Wouldn't it make sense for him to be feeling a little under the weather as well?

"I would," he said, his smile slipping into somewhat of a scowl as Splash put physical and figurative distance between them. The cat had been nothing but an absolute terror since Sloane had been in the hospital wing. Every night it had stared at him with those large, beady eyes from the edge of Ned's bed, as if to taunt him. He side-eyed the feline before, scooting forward on the couch, his elbows coming to rest on his knees and his face in his palms.

"I can't go get yours, but..." He trailed off and pondered his options, but knew fully well that there was only one option and whether he could do it was a matter of how subtle he could be about it. "I'll get one," he finally decided, pushing himself off the couch.

He disappeared through the entranceway to the boy's corridors and quickly found his dorm. He pulled his blanket off his bed, dragging one of the pillows onto the floor but not caring enough to pick it up. He tried his best to fold it, but with Sloane waiting in the common room he quickly decided it wasn't worth it and simply bundled it up into a ball and tucked it under his arm. He walked back to the common room, trying not to look to hurried or guilty. There was nothing wrong about giving Sloane a blanket, but given their (albeit secret) relationship it felt a bit... intimate. Whatever.

"Here," he said, unceremoniously dumping it on her head as he walked by her. He found his spot once more and smiled smugly at her. "You've got to give it back later, though."

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It took her a moment to figure out where he was off to, but by the time she realized, it was too late to call him back. He could only get a blanket from one place. Maybe if either one of them were thinking, they could have used a summoning charm on her blanket from her dorm. Or she could have gone up and gotten hers, but either way to was too late now.

Pulling Splash into her lap, she cradled the large cat like a baby— she was the only one who could get away with it these days and scratched behind her ears. Sloane looked out the window behind the sofa with tired eyes, watching the clouds move across the water of the black lake, she wondered where her friend the squid was and if he was having a good time with her wand.

The blanket being dumped on her head was met with an indignant squeal and Splash jumped to the back of the couch and perched herself there, glaring at Cam. Sloane surfaced from beneath the blanket with a pout on her lips. "Unnecessary, but thanks," She wrapped herself up in the quilt quite thoroughly, pulling it up to her chin. She chuckled to herself, barely resisting the urge the see if it smelled like him. "We'll see after that stunt." She added for good measure.

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He was unable to contain a snicker as Splash bounded off of Sloane and made for the edge of the couch. To say he hated the cat would be an exaggeration and a little cruel, but Splash's disdain for him was obvious and he always appreciated an opportunity to get the best of him. He scooted back to the opposite end of the couch as Sloane and crossed his arms over his chest, flashing her a teasing smile.

"If I go to bed tonight without a blanket, Ned will ask questions," he taunted. In truth, Ned probably wouldn't care that much and he could always bother the house elves for another blanket, but any chance for light banter with Sloane was a welcome one. "But for now it's yours to enjoy."

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"I would never!" Sloane chirped, reaching out to quickly nudge him with her foot before retreating under the blanket she was enjoying immensely. She snuck in a self-indulgent sniff of his blanket hopefully without being noticed. Sloane was presently surprised to find it did not smell too much like the unpleasant scent of teenage boy.

A slow smirk curled her lips as she fluttered her eyelashes at him. "I don't think anyway..." She teased right back, blue eyes looking upward as if she were innocently thinking about it. Another blanket with this chill wouldn't be remiss, but she wouldn't steal his. He was right though, it might raise questions if she was spotted with his blanket after all. "Can't have you getting sick too." Sloane wouldn't wish this on anyone.

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Cameron was almost a little disappointed when she said she would never, but then she teased him with a nudge and he considered "forgetting" to get it back from her. (It would be so much nicer if he had a way to steal her blanket as well, but that would wait.)

"Don't you worry about me," he said, the teasing tone replaced with a warmer, more concerned one. Of course he wanted to spend time with her, but he really had abandoned their friends out of worry for her. He would be worried about her whether she was sound asleep or teasing him on the couch, especially after the episode in the corridor the other day. "We've got to get you healthy. Can't have you sick all winter." It would put a damper on his holiday plans, surely, but it would also turn the holiday cheer into holiday fear on his end.

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Sloane would worry about him regardless, just like he would make excuses to skip a visit to town to keep her company. "We'll never win the cup if I can't stay on a broom." She joked, though it was true, it wasn't really a huge concern, she had to stick it out and she would play when they needed her to. It was fine.

Resting her head against the couch, Sloane closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. The fatigue was the second worst part aside from the cough. She was ready for bed most nights right after dinner. Thankfully after her conversation with Sisse in the Hospital Wing, she didn't have to avoid her dorm any longer. Though things were a little awkward with Alice now, her roommate was making herself scarce and frankly Sloane was asleep by 7 most nights. It was sad really. "I wasn't kidding about the nap you know." She sighed, eyes still closed as she pulled the blanket tighter around her and got comfortable.

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Cameron had not thought much about quidditch since the last match. He'd gone into it expecting to lose with Sloane's absence, but he'd found that he hadn't felt as bothered watching Slytherin score against them while knowing that Sloane was miserable somewhere else. He'd felt guilty playing without her, and after losing he didn't feel the same rush of disappointment that he usually did. One thing he'd learned: Sloane was more important than the sport they both loved.

"We've got time," he reassured. Their next match wouldn't be for a long while, and by the Sloane would be better. She would have to be. Cameron readjusted his position on the sofa so he could lean his head back against the cushion and tuck his knees against his chest, intent on taking a nap himself.

"I'll be here," he assured her, passing her a smile before allowing his own eyelids to flutter shut.

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