A/N: Due to technical difficulties this thing is almost 10 hours late. I had serious internet priblems last night and couldn't post it, so I hgave up around 1 am and fell asleep. It fixed itself this morning. As an apology, I am giving you all another chapter of Seamus and the Salvation Army and a few chapters of Legolas' Life. again, I am very, very sorry but it was not my fault. Stupid internet. I got this up as soon as I could. Must be because this one is number 13, it's unlucky. Who knows, who cares. Posting now.
MOO: # 13
Pairing: Seamus/Luna, Seamus/Blaise. One of them is onesided. It is up to you which one.
Dedication: For those of you who actually read my stuff. Also for those of you that read my stuff, care that this is late, and forgive me for it. (frodo eyes) Pleeease don't be mad.
Disclaimer: The plotline or lack thereof is all mine. Miney miney mine.
Warning: Het and implied slash. Guy/girl kissing.
I am not broken. There is nothing to fix. I tell people this, but they don't want to listen. He is not broken. But he is cracking. I tell people this, but they don't want to listen. I have to make them see before it's too late, because I'm not sure how much I can do.
I am in love with Seamus Finnegan, and he is slowly going insane.
People think that I'm insane. I'm not. Insane people can't function in society. I know, because I looked it up once. I'm different. I know I'm not insane, because I eat and sleep and get good grades. I am well hydrated, and I show an interest in my social life. This is how I know I'm not insane.
People don't know that Seamus is breaking. He is. When someone's breaking, they're on the borderline between broken and not broken. If you act fast, then you can glue them back together without the residual crack being too big or interfering with the vessel's function. He's in trouble. I know this because I made up the definition, because the dictionary didn't have a good one. I like my explanation better, anyway. It makes more sense. This is how I can tell Seamus is breaking.
I don't know if I can still glue him back together again. He's crying down there by the lake, where he thinks no one can see. He's right. No one can see. I didn't see anything. Seamus didn't cry. Seamus was by the lake? I didn't notice. I'm just sitting here in my tree, watching the Argons float by.
An Argon is a very interesting magical creature. It is pink and it has a heart-shaped exoskeleton. It is about the size of a sickle and were used as the tips of Cupid's arrows because of their properties. Properties of the Common Argon include the sudden conscious realization of one's emotions for a certain period of time, depending on the dosage, whether or not one wants them acknowledged. Among other things.
I think I may take one to Seamus as a gift.
I don't expect anything from him. Honestly, I don't. This "love" affliction is my problem. If he has an affliction of a similar nature, then I sympathize with him. It's not easy being sick with something like this. This "love" is really quite amusing, though. It makes people do the strangest things. I used to watch other people fall in and out of love, before I caught it myself.
I must research this odd affliction and discover how it is spread, and what one can do to ease the pain that comes with the symptoms. Not banish it. That would be foolish. Isn't a sickly Yakto better suited to its adult life, and, indeed, have a better chance of survival than a Yakto with no disease? It is precisely the same way with humans and love. It is a disease, true, but one that I think makes us stronger and better able to survive. If we can handle this, we can handle anything.
It is in this spirit of scientific inquiry that I have decided to go down to the lake to sit with Seamus.
I ask him what he's so sad about. He glares at me and snarls. Males. What can you do? I tell him that I didn't hear him crying or any such nonsense like that. I tell him that he looks sad and that his eyes are looking more haunted than that Muggle house in Florida that Dad took us to see. Before Mum died.
He softens and I am confused. I ask him why he's looking at me that way, and tell him to stop because he's making me uncomfortable. He looks puzzled now. I tell him that what happened to Mum happened. There's nothing I can do to change that. It's okay to cry once in a while, but the living must get on with living and the dead must get on with being dead. He laughs, and I ask him why. He says it was nothing and I believe him because you don't need a reason to be happy.
I sat there and studied him for a while. Seamus is a very nice person to study. Now that lunch is over, some people have breaks so they're coming down to the lake. Seamus likes to watch Blaise, sneaking glances when he thinks Blaise and I aren't looking, but I noticed anyway. I think Blaise did too, because Seamus just turned back to me, blushing and looking confused. I ask him why he was watching Blaise and he makes a face. He says something uncomplimentary about Slytherins. I wasn't really paying attention. I was watching body language. It's a lost art, but I'm practicing and I'm getting pretty good at it.
Seamus doesn't know that he likes Blaise. I sigh. I love Seamus, so I'm going to do what's best for him. He has to be glued back together and I have my doubts about whether I can glue him well enough before he breaks all the way.
Maybe Blaise can fix him. I think he can. Blaise can break him, though. It's a bit of a gamble, and the stakes are Seamus. Fortunately, I'm lucky at guessing-games.
I start talking about Argons and Cupid when he leans over. I stop and look at him. He stares into my eyes for a minute. I'm not sure what he's looking for, but he must have found it because the next thing I know I'm on my back and he's pinning me down and kissing me.
It feels wonderful. But I push him off because I know that it won't help. I think I broke him a little bit more but I know that it's best to stop these things before they can really bury their thorns in you. Seamus asks what's wrong and his eyes look like a puppy that's just been denied its squeaky toy steak. But if you want the puppy to be really happy then you give it real steak instead of a squeaky toy. Seamus has been pretending for a while. I don't want to make him sad because I can't be what he wants. So I'll just give him what he wants, and then he'll be happy. If he's happy, then he'll have more positive connotations about me, and I'll be able to get on with things because I'll have that little spark of hope.
I tell him I' m going to catch him something that will make him happier. He smiles and asks if I'm going to catch him a pet. I tell him that he can call it a pet if he so chooses. He asks if I'm catching him an Argon, like the ones I was talking about earlier. I tell him that he can have one of the extras if he wants but I'm going to need most of the ones I get if I'm going to catch anyone anytime soon. He looks at me and laughs. I ask him why he's laughing and he says it's nothing. I don't believe him this time. You don't need a reason to be happy, but his laugh sounded sad.
