31 ∂αуѕ σf нαρρу нαℓℓσωєєи [α тωѕт fαиfι¢]

𝟪 | 𝑅𝓊𝑔𝑔𝒾𝑒 𝐵𝓊𝒸𝒸𝒽𝒾

ℓυℓℓαвιєѕ fσя тωσ

𝔖𝔬𝔫𝔤: ℜ𝔬𝔰𝔶𝔩𝔫 - 𝔅𝔬𝔫 ℑ𝔳𝔢𝔯, 𝔖𝔱. 𝔙𝔦𝔫𝔠𝔢𝔫𝔱

⚜ ————-　⚜Ѽ⚜　————- ⚜

I never knew what fall felt like until I left the savannah. Not the smell of the crisp autumn air that seemed to electrocute my veins, forcing every hazy thought from my head. Not the feeling of the biting cold that somehow seemed to comfort me as it nipped at my skin. Not the longing sensation that I had for a cosy blanket wrapped around my shoulders, a burning wood fire at my feet, with a steaming hot drink in my hands, filling my nose with every delectable fall scent. 

These were the thought that swirled in Y/N's mind as she sat beneath an oak, bundled up in an oversized knit sweater, shielded from the rough bark of the oak by a rough brown denim jacket. Slowly, she drew her fingers across the strings of her guitar, plucking one every now and then as she soaked in the breeze, allowing it to hold her to the brink of consciousness. If not for the breeze, she might have fallen asleep right then and there, lulled into peace by the smell of the leaves falling around her and the sound of the guitar in her hands. She could still hear the shouts of the boys at Night Raven College, not too far from where she sat now, but they were carried away by the breeze, almost as if it was protecting her from their shouts. 

Y/N's eyes flickered open and glanced over at the empty pad sitting next to her, her pen ready and waiting for her to pick it up. She bit her lip as she stared at it, her fingers still running across the guitar as if they were two lovers dancing in a field of autumn flora, free from the chains of life and free to do as they pleased. 

The wind blew by Y/N's still form again, making her shift. A single leaf fell from the tree above, as red as roses, and it gently fluttered down into Y/N's waiting hand. Y/N stared at it, dropping her hold on her guitar and lifting her hand to trace the delicate veins of the leaf. Suddenly the wind snatched it away and it blew out of her hands, though she tried to grab it back, and she was left watching as it drifted away, over the hill and down to the village below. Y/N watched in silence as the leaf fluttered with the wind, beckoning her to turn into a soft flower petal so she might dance with it on the breeze, her feet no longer bound to the earth. 

Y/N sighed and sat back down again, running her hands over the checkered blanket that she had snagged from Heartslabyul before leaving for the afternoon. Riddle wouldn't be pleased when she returned, especially when he discovered that the blanket, although meant as a picnic blanket, was now caked with dirt and grime, both from Y/N's boots and the ground below. It wasn't as if she meant to get it dirty, but she didn't want to get her clothes dirty either. 

She glanced over at her guitar, lying in a mess of ruby and brown, both leaves and dry grass dancing as the wind played the chords. Y/N smiled as she pictured her brother playing the instrument, a single tear slipping down her cheek at the memory. She reached out towards the instrument and picked it up, strumming it a few times as she thought of her brother. 

Suddenly, the crack of a dry branch startled Y/N, causing her to look up from the worn wooden guitar in her hands, her fingers hovering over the strings. A familiar head came bobbing up the hill, sandy hair bobbing in the breeze.

"Y/N," Ruggie exclaimed, waving to his girlfriend as he sped up the cobblestone path to where she sat. It wasn't uncommon for her to head out to the oak after classes, soaking in the few minutes that she had where she wasn't bothered by the Heartslabyul students. 

"Hi, Ruggie," Y/N said softly, crossing her legs and leaning back against the tree. Ruggie was one of the few people that she was all right with interrupting her peace and quiet. Despite his rowdy mannerisms that roamed the halls during the day, when he and Y/N were alone, he was often quiet. Many of their evenings were spent in the quiet embrace of the evening, sometimes talking about how their day had gone, though often just wrapped in each other's embrace.