Coiled (Book 1 of 2)

Electric

The unpleasant chaos of the morning was irrelevant - completely irrelevant - and that's because for me, the only thing I cared about was tonight's meeting with Reggie.

Reggie. Alone with Reggie.

Again.

Finally.

I return to my room after my last class of the day, and though I try to convince myself it's for purely practical reasons (read: drop off my extra books, sort my materials for class tomorrow, freshen up), even I know that's a flimsy lie, at best.

Instead, I find myself doing things I never usually do, things like checking and double checking my reflection in the mirror, fixing my hair and fretting about it, and of course, seemingly endless pacing back and forth as I watch time crawl slowly forward.

You shouldn't care how you look.

And you certainly shouldn't be this excited about seeing Regulus.

Of all the treacherous, blasphemous -

Shaking my head as though in doing so I can quiet the rational part of my mind, I flop down onto my bed and bury my head into my pillow.

I miss Mary.

Her company would provide a welcome distraction from my thoughts, to say nothing of the nervous knot that seems to have settled in my stomach.

But she never comes back to our room, not during the entire time I'm there. And so, after finally forcing myself to admit that I'm a hopeless bundle of nerves, I resolve to leave my room.

So I'll get there early. So what? I can't stand to stay cooped up here for a moment longer.

As I rush through the common room, I catch sight of Dorcas and Lily, busy studying together at a large table on the far side of the room. They each give me a quick wave and a smile, which I return before continuing on.

Descending the staircase is hardly a quiet affair, though. And that's because the portraits are in a decidedly conversational mood.

It's the Fat Lady who starts it all, breaking from her operatic aria as soon as I slip out of the common room and attempt to descend the steps.

"Oooh, yoo-hoo, yoo-hoo!"

She calls out to me with unwavering determination.

Swinging back around, I flash her a patient, polite smile, "Good evening."

Straightening up within her frame, she fusses casually with the fabric of her dress, "And where might we be going, off in such a hurry as this?"

All around us, I hear the amused chuckles and chatter from other portraits as their attention is drawn towards us.

This doesn't bode well.

Centuries old portraits with nowhere to go, nothing to do?

They'll be sure to hold me up for conversation.

"Oh, I - uh - out," I stammer and reply with a sudden shyness.

The Fat Lady just rolls her eyes dramatically at this, "Ever the literal one, aren't we, Miss Y/N?"

"You know me."

Next to her, a trio of three elegantly dressed ladies giggle wildly. One of them calls out to me imploringly, "So where's the destination, then? And why in such a rush?"

"I ..."

A distinguished Dutch gentleman clad in a black ruff also chimes in at this, "Yes, out with it, child. We're simply starving for a bit of conversation this evening."