Paul Tarwater
November 03, 2007 8:16 PM
Eh... well... hm (WotW) by Paul Tarwater
Paul walked into the building from the cool outside. The fall was almost past, and winter was coming. Meaning Midterm was coming, and Paul had to send a note home to let his parents know he wouldn't be home for winter. For some reason his parents didn't seem to realize why Paul never wanted to come home. He didn't have the guts to tell them it wasn't their fault, it was their so called "angel" of a daughter.They weren't perspicacious, Paul had to admit. That or they refused to believe what was so painfully obvious (truly painfully) and in plain sight. The fact that their daughter wasn't so "lovely" and "good natured" as they'd want to believe. Though it may be Paul's fault, lying about were Lussni became so odd and where all the bruises he had came from (who could blame him, would anyone want to be even further abused, especially seeing as it was unlikely of the parents ever believing him). But that was one thing, even with her unhidden sour mood at being betrothed, Paul still didn't see them blink an eye of punishment or scolding her way.
Paul definately wished to tell his parents the truth, and make them see, but he had no courage in that area. Making Cissy even angrier wasn't very intelligent for himself either.
Paul walked into the Cascade Hall, tipping his head up from their previous position on the floor. He didn't wish to run into anyone and be forced into an awkward position. Actually, he never liked walking into the Hall at all, their were far too many people chattering and yammering away. Paul prefered the silence (which was where he had been, in the place he and Danae had found which had still not yet been overrun) but he was cold, and overall hungry, and just needed to get something to eat. After he ate he could go up to his warm dormitory and write to his parents. Even if he felt bad for leaving them, that didn't outdo the fear of his sister.
Paul put in an order to the house elf, recieving a turkey sandwick and a cup of tea and milk (more to warm it up, as he didn't care much for the taste). He sat down at the end of a small table and pulled off the gloves his mother had made for him. Paul pressed his hands against his flushed cheeks to warm them up a little, then continued to pull this ratty jacket off before finally taking a bite of his food.
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Paul Tarwater
Eh... well... hm (WotW)
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Paul Tarwater
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