As the young witch was only attending the party at the behest of a friend, it seemed only right that a friend should be there to make it worth her while. The easy part was to take the offered glass, ignoring the voice that bore her prefect badge proudest of all to take another sip of the burning liquor, and to make room on the bench for him. She could feel every pulse of her beating heart, hear the whisper of a conversation ten feet away, and Millie tried to take another sip of the drink to help herself forget about that. She had been told that liquor would help forget all her worries, but it didn't seem to be working very well for her.
Millie tried offering Benedict a wan smile, reacting to his presence more than his words. It was hard to ignore his presence, it wasn't so much the heat of him she could sense when he sat down. The feeling was hard to describe, it was similar to the spark of joy that lit inside her whenever Anne turned from one of other other friends to her, only not quite. Perhaps there was something else to it, something the young witch couldn't quite place. The same something that had caused her to write a letter to her cousin, whose response helped assuage the guilt she still felt at deceiving Dahlia.
It helped allow her to nod as well, pushing her lips wider. That was not the hardest part. She trusted Benedict, and far more than she did most of the attendees of the party. It wasn't just the boys that seemed like a risk to her, her current company notwithstanding. Millie knew implicitly how fast rumors spread at Hogwarts, the mere thought of the latest made her cheeks ignite once more with an embarrassing pink. She took another sip of the drink, nodding again before she looked up at her friend's face.
The hardest part was not thinking about what everyone else thought.
"We're probably not supposed to be seen together like this," she mused aloud, unable to help the corner of her lips pull wider still. Millie wished the rose on her cheeks and the butterflies in her stomach could both go away, banished along with the rest of the partygoers. If it was just the two of them on the bench, she would happily chatter away the hours with Benedict. "Oh, I think she's still around."
Millie tipped her head, glancing off to the side where she had last seen her effervescent friend. She found Anne there, nursing a new drink in her hand. Was it the glimpse of her eyes that Millie caught, just for a second, or was it her nerves and the drink mixing intolerantly again? If she stared long enough, the rest of the room slipped into a blurry haze, leaving the young witch satisfied enough with that much privacy. "Anne's not watching, exactly. More of...minding us...minding ourselves."
That seemed funny to her all of the sudden, prompting an abbreviated laugh to come out in one quiet huff. Millie felt a sudden awareness of herself again, and where her body was. Her feet were tucked out of the way, with one hand on the drink glass. That only left the other to sit awkwardly on her thigh, pressing into her skirt in the absence of anything else to press against.
There was a good chance that might become the hardest part of sitting next to Benedict tonight.
Millie tried offering Benedict a wan smile, reacting to his presence more than his words. It was hard to ignore his presence, it wasn't so much the heat of him she could sense when he sat down. The feeling was hard to describe, it was similar to the spark of joy that lit inside her whenever Anne turned from one of other other friends to her, only not quite. Perhaps there was something else to it, something the young witch couldn't quite place. The same something that had caused her to write a letter to her cousin, whose response helped assuage the guilt she still felt at deceiving Dahlia.
It helped allow her to nod as well, pushing her lips wider. That was not the hardest part. She trusted Benedict, and far more than she did most of the attendees of the party. It wasn't just the boys that seemed like a risk to her, her current company notwithstanding. Millie knew implicitly how fast rumors spread at Hogwarts, the mere thought of the latest made her cheeks ignite once more with an embarrassing pink. She took another sip of the drink, nodding again before she looked up at her friend's face.
The hardest part was not thinking about what everyone else thought.
"We're probably not supposed to be seen together like this," she mused aloud, unable to help the corner of her lips pull wider still. Millie wished the rose on her cheeks and the butterflies in her stomach could both go away, banished along with the rest of the partygoers. If it was just the two of them on the bench, she would happily chatter away the hours with Benedict. "Oh, I think she's still around."
Millie tipped her head, glancing off to the side where she had last seen her effervescent friend. She found Anne there, nursing a new drink in her hand. Was it the glimpse of her eyes that Millie caught, just for a second, or was it her nerves and the drink mixing intolerantly again? If she stared long enough, the rest of the room slipped into a blurry haze, leaving the young witch satisfied enough with that much privacy. "Anne's not watching, exactly. More of...minding us...minding ourselves."
That seemed funny to her all of the sudden, prompting an abbreviated laugh to come out in one quiet huff. Millie felt a sudden awareness of herself again, and where her body was. Her feet were tucked out of the way, with one hand on the drink glass. That only left the other to sit awkwardly on her thigh, pressing into her skirt in the absence of anything else to press against.
There was a good chance that might become the hardest part of sitting next to Benedict tonight.
![[Image: uHwnE8q.png]](https://i.imgur.com/uHwnE8q.png)