[craven] above me, stars, a sky untouched { mavis }

APRIL 2004
4:42 am

Billie had lay in her bed for maybe half an hour, trying to fall back asleep, feeling sick, until she’d decided she needed to get up. She’d crept out of her bedroom silently, taking great care not to wake anyone, and then she’d gone to the bathroom and thrown up as quietly and unassumingly as she possibly could.

Kendrick had noticed something wasn’t right last night — besides the fact that she’d clearly had more than one or two drinks, that was — but he hadn’t commented. He’d probably ask her later, in his gentle Kendricky sort of way. And she’d hate it, of course, in her typical Billie-y sort of way, because she hated the idea that she might disappoint him.

And Merlin, was she being disappointing right now.

Billie spat the toothpaste into the sink and ran the water for a little bit, splashing the sides of the sink, then her own face. She breathed slowly, glad that her mouth tasted like mint now. She hadn’t showered the night before; there were too many girls for everyone to have one, and she’d been too tired and too drunk and far too in need of the escape from herself that sleep gave her to opt for the delay.

She’d removed her makeup, though. Mostly. She frowned at herself in the mirror above the sink, then swiped a little glitter from under one eye. It was a miracle it’d survived all of the crying, she thought. Thinking about it made her stomach twist again in an entirely different way. She washed her hands (again), splashed her face (again), and then turned the tap off and waited there for a moment, staring at her reflection, thinking all kinds of awful things.

She felt a little better, physically. A little worse, emotionally.

Closing the bathroom door again, Billie sighed a silent sigh. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she came close to bumping into someone, and turned quickly, her eyebrows raised. “Mavis,” she whispered. Another twist in her stomach. “Bathroom?” she asked, gesturing slightly behind her. None of the girls had ever been here before.

Wow, tonight had been the best worst decision of her entire life.

Or was it the worst best decision?

The distinction was lost on Mae, and thinking about anything for any duration of time made the world feel topsy turvy again. She'd tried to sleep, Merlin knew she'd probably had enough of whatever Magnolia had been making to have her passing out the moment she closed her eyes, but Mavis couldn't shake the electricity buzzing on her skin. She'd lay there for a while, recounting what had happened, running her fingers over the mark she knew Killian had left on her neck, but she couldn't sleep. The others had gone to bed, and she'd heard someone get up in the dark, and Mavis couldn't help herself; she got up too.

Padding out of Billie's room in the dark, she was as careful as she could be not to make noise; the fluffy slippers with Pygmy Puff faces certainly helped dampen her footsteps. But, of course, Mavis thought she was as stealthy as a panther when she'd ping-ponged down the hallway and stepped on every loose floorboard. It wasn't until she slowed that Mavis was silent again, and the door opened, and she nearly bumped into Billie.

"Oh no," She answered, then a little alarm went off in her brain, "well, yes, but also, could I get some water?" And maybe a snack. Mavis couldn't remember the last time she'd eaten anything. There was a slice of pizza during truth or dare, and she had kept meaning to go back to heat some of the Mac'n'Cheese, her boyfriend (boyfriend) had brought, but she'd never managed. Mavis couldn't pinpoint when she'd done a lot of things tonight; actually, it was like everything was happening all at once in her memory, spinning around like the inside of a slushie machine, and she'd stopped trying to make sense of it.

Billie glanced down the hall, towards the kitchen. She nodded, then gestured that the other girl follow her as she started walking towards the kitchen.

She felt tense, because it was Mavis.

But… It was Mavis.

A few months ago, Nola probably would have been her next closest Gryffindor, after Killian. These days, it was Mavis. They’d been spending more time together this past month, or however long it had been. Mavis was a lot smarter than she let on, Billie thought. She was fun, and kind. Importantly, she just cared so much. Ki had put it perfectly yesterday — she just wants everyone to feel like they're a star.

But, no. She didn’t want to think about him.

Billie swallowed down her feelings. She must have been extremely exhausted a few hours ago when she’d gotten home, because she didn’t think she could sleep right now if she tried to, even with the nausea at bay. The moment she’d been awake enough to register thoughts, she’d felt anxious. She just couldn’t think about any of it until she was fed and showered and everyone sleeping in her room right now was gone. She had to just wait a little longer.

The sky was pitch black; it was far from sunrise, Billie thought. It felt like morning, though. Maybe that was just her.

She let Mavis follow her as she got them each a glass of water from the tap. Billie took a quick sip from hers, then filled it up again. She hadn’t eaten anything the night before — had thrown up liquid exclusively — and was starving. Early in the night, she'd been too anxious to eat. Then too drunk. Then much later, too anxious again. “Are you hungry?” she whispered, moving past Mavis and opening the cupboard. Thank Merlin for a well-stocked pantry, she thought. Billie was as silent as possible as she took a few things from the cupboard.

“I’m going to sit outside for a bit,” she said, pausing.

Mavis padded behind Billie, stepping on creaky boards, giggling, and then shushing herself as they went. As they reached the kitchen, Mavis blinked into the twilight coming through the windows. It was dark enough that she had no idea where she was going but light sufficient that Billie could move quickly, that perfect middle between night and day. Mavis felt that that over tired, should be in bed, wired tingling on her skin too, and it mixed with the electricity from the night. Her skin felt hot to the touch, but she was cold? Like she'd been baked on the outside, but the insides were still cool and gooey. And there was a lot of liquid swishing around in there.

Taking the glass, she took half a sip, just enough to wet her tongue, and then set it down on the counter she could see. "Yes," She whispered back, excited for snacks but also bouncing a little where she stood. Both from the energy she had no business still having and from the need to use the bathroom. Billie mentioned going to sit outside, and Mavis sighed, "Sounds lovely, I'm going to use the loo—" she pointed toward where they had come from "—and meet you out there," and then in the direction, she thought the porch was and waited for approval.

Medium quiet, she headed for the bathroom and then back out to where Billie had indicated the door was, and Mavis had almost made it without being obnoxious until she let the screen door slam shut.

"Sorry," She said, her shoulders all the way up her ears as if that would help somehow, and then sat down next to Billie. She took a second to look out at the sky in Craven and shivered. "Bit cold, innit?" Or maybe it was just the not sleeping that had given her the chills. "Tonight was so great," Mavis felt dreamy. Like she'd woken up in one of those fairy tales where the princesses had to be back by midnight. Only she'd stayed out a lot later than midnight, her prince was real, and in Mavis's fantasies, all the princesses had brown skin and no animal servants.

It wasn’t an invitation, exactly, but it wasn’t not an invitation.

Would she have preferred to be alone? Maybe. Maybe she could have fallen asleep on the seats outdoors, then Kendrick could come and wake her up in an hour, and they might have had some time alone before everyone else woke up. She was oscillating between giving him more or less details, her neediness for reassurance and comfort wrestling with her abhorence of being burdensome. She should probably keep most of her feelings to herself, she thought. Her heart hurt.

But, it wasn’t like she didn’t want Mavis to come outside with her; that would be far too rude a thing to want.

Billie’s arms were full of food but she managed to swipe the blanket draped over the back of the couch on her way through. She had a little difficulty with the front door, but made sure to be very quiet about it. She closed it slowly behind her.

It was cold outside, even in her thick, wintery socks. The disparity was probably what did it; it was especially cold in comparison to the temperature indoors. So warm in her room, with all of the sleeping bodies heating it up. Warm in her bed, under her blanket. Warm, she thought, but not comfortable. She could count the sleepovers she’d attended on one hand; she slept in a room with a bunch of girls every night at school, but her bed at school basically had built-in walls, and she had silencing spells, there. She wasn’t used to sleeping so close to other people.

Billie placed the two croissants, the apples, the bag of crisps down on the outdoor table, then tried to quietly drag one of the chairs over beside the other one. They only had one blanket, and she didn’t want either of them to be cold. Billie sat down in one seat in the dark, shivering a little as she waited for Mavis under the blanket.

She winced when the door shut too loud, her shoulders coming up too. "It's okay," she breathed, still very quiet even though she didn't need to be anymore. She ushered Mavis over to sit, before dutifully spreading the blanket across them both. She glanced at her friend. "Did you have a nice time?" she asked quietly. Her eyes flicked down to the girl's neck, then away, a small smile forming quickly before fading away slowly.

Mavis snuggled under the part of the blanket Billie shared with her, wrapping her fingers in the soft fabric and holding it up to her chin. “Yes, a wonderful time,” The young witch answered quickly, that giggly, bubbly, full of energy feeling washing over her again, and she pulled her knees up onto the seat. The movement shifted the blanket they were sharing, and Mavis tried to put it back as she explained. “I don’t think anyone kisses better than Killian,” she sighed, that dreamy look in her big brown eyes, as she settled against the back of the chair, finally done moving around.

“Not that I really have anything to compare it to… but I just know it must be true.” Without thinking, Mavi’s painted fingertips rose to trace along the mark on her neck. She had never had one quite like this before, and she was still drunk enough that she loved it more than she feared the idea of her father seeing it. She giggled again and leaned her head against the back of the chair, turning to face Billie, and speaking again.

“How was your night?” Mavis had seen Billie quite a lot tonight, but there were indeed moments and lapses. Then again, a lot of tonight felt like a blur to the teenage witch that was still half drunk. After they had all gotten ready together, glitter and butterfly clips galore, Mavis helped set up the supplies at the Maidstone house. She’d gotten the pixie lights strung up (quite the feat without magic and barely reaching past one-hundred fifty-two centimeters). And tried not to be too apparent in her intentions when Killian arrived, but she was pretty sure she fooled no one. The girl wanted to kiss her boyfriend! She didn’t see any problem with that.

Mavis remembered seeing Billie at Truth-or-Dare, and maybe a little after, but then she’d gone upstairs with Killian and then seen Jae on the lawns and Magnolia in the kitchen. She’d seen Killian again before they all headed home, but he looked pretty sick, so Mavis hadn’t pushed for a long goodbye. He smelled like something floral, and he barely said a word. She wondered if he’d thrown up but didn’t ask. And then they had all gotten back to Billie’s guardian’s house. “Was your first House Party a success?” Mavis finished, her body shifting a little as she emphasized the words House and Party.

Billie brought her legs up onto the chair, pulling the blanket up over her knees to tuck under her chin. She shivered again, though it was much nicer under here. After a beat, she drew her arms out of the blanket so she could reach for her glass. She brought it to her lips, holding it with both hands. She had a couple of cautious sips, waiting for the water to settle before she placed the glass back down and reached for one of the croissants. She was feeling a lot less sick and a lot more hungry, now.

“Oh,” Billie said. She had several thoughts at once. Some internal reaction, first thoughts about Phillip and his kissing, then about how they were no longer together (four months! four months!), then about Killian, and Ki and Mavis sneaking off in the house together, then about Killian’s night and how it must have gone from such a high to such a low so quickly at the end. Guilt, of course. Jealousy mixed with nostalgia when she thought about how she’d felt like that too, before. And other things.

But. Billie smiled. She smiled, because even amongst everything else it wasn’t hard to find a bit of joy for her friend feeling so happy about it all. It was meant to be exciting, she thought distantly. "I'm happy for you," she said quietly, because that was true and easy.

She was ready for Mavis to return her question. “Mostly good,” she answered with a small, brief smile. It was half-true; up until what, ten? Ten-thirty? She’d had a nice time. Still anxious, still tiring, but in a manageable way. In a way where she still got to enjoy the good parts; it wasn’t as if feeling anxious and having a good time were mutually exclusive all of the time. There had been a very brief period after she’d started drinking in earnest where she’d felt so good, before things had turned sour, and then everything had come crashing down around her.

Billie’s tired eyes lingered on the croissant in her hand for a little too long before she took a slow bite. She didn’t feel good about the night. It was impossible to feel good about it, given everything that had happened. She thought briefly of the part where she’d kissed Phillip and he’d had his hands on her and she’d said she didn’t want to stop and he’d said me either, and how that had felt good, but — no — she cut herself off. Tried to think of almost anything else.

“I think so,” Billie said. She took another bite, covering her mouth politely as she did so. After swallowing, she reached for her water again, glad once more that she’d brushed her teeth. It made the croissant a little odd-tasting, but the water was so much crisper like this. “I’ll have to see if other people had a nice time,” she said, feeling a bit distant as she spoke. Mavis was facing her, but she looked at her food and her drink instead of at her friend. Not everyone had had a good time, she knew. There were some important ones on that list, too. “I think that’s a good measure,” she said anyway, her voice soft.

 Mavis was still a little bit too drunk to think anything was under the surface of the way Billie had said she was happy for her. Billie was always quiet, so Mavis nodded and accepted it at face value without a second thought. It wasn't until Billie replied that her night was mostly good that Mavis stopped to analyze. Mostly good, she wondered what Billie meant by that and asked without a second thought. "Why only mostly good, did something happen?" If she hadn't been so caught up in her night, maybe she would have noticed something out of the ordinary, but as she tried to go over what she currently remembered, Mavis couldn't think of anything.

The idea of measuring the party's success based on the guests' opinions made sense and all, but it hadn't been what Mavis was after. She cared but didn't care about the other guests right now, only about how Billie felt about the party. The blond was by far the shyest of their group, and Mavis had been trying to help her shed the shell for some time now. Mavis didn't want Billie to stop being who she was, she loved Billie for who she was, but the Gryffindor wouldn't have hated if Billie threw more parties either. It was a delicate balance.

Should she mention that Phillip had been there last night? It felt wrong to bring him up like some kind of one-word explanation; she was sure Mavis would assume that she was upset because of him. Or, just upset because of him. Something he did. Some kind of hurt inflicted upon her, by Phillip. It would be terrible of her to cast herself as a victim, especially when she was starting to think that they all already saw her like that anyway.

Did he hurt you?

Ki had asked that at some point, hadn’t he?

Billie brushed some croissant crumbs off of the blanket, then curled her arms back underneath it. She was glad for the darkness. Telling Mavis how she was feeling was off of the table; she wasn’t stupid enough to think that Mavis and Killian wouldn’t talk about what had happened, and she had no control over that. It wouldn’t be right of her to try to, either; she could feel the urge to set the scene from her perspective, before Mavis had a chance to hear about anything from anyone else (Ki), but that was such a selfish urge of her to have. Manipulative, even. She swallowed, her chin on her knees again.

Her stomach ached a little, but in the anxious way, rather than the alcohol way. She just felt so damn much. Too much! She wanted a break from it. She wanted something to come and scoop it all out of her, leave her hollow. Any other way of existence had to be better than this constant, constant churning.

“I’m happy we did it, Mavis,” Billie said softly, trying not to sound regretful. It wasn’t really true, but she could sort of shape her feelings in a way that made it feel true-ish. True adjacent. She was happy for the people who had fun, and happy to have had something to offer. If the end bit hadn’t happened, or just if she hadn’t been so, so weak-minded or antisocial or whatever trait it was that had ended up with her up in the top room, crying about… What, exactly? How stressed she felt? She wanted to scoff at herself. She wanted to cry. She couldn’t even bring herself to fully wish that part away, because then Phillip wouldn’t have come and she wouldn’t have seen him.

I love you in this.

He’d said it in between kisses, his hands on her legs, the tips of his fingers just brushing under the hem of the dress she’d borrowed from the girl right beside her.

“But I drank too much,” Billie added, her voice a little muffled by the blanket as she cut across her own thoughts. The gap between her words wasn’t so long, but somehow her groggy mind managed to have a million thoughts in between each sentence. “I’m not good at it,” she breathed, not meaning drinking at all, but leaving it ambiguous in the dark.

When she heard that Billie was glad they had done it, the smile on Mavis's face grew. And the movement reminded her of her chapped lips and sore cheeks; she'd done a lot of smiling tonight and a lot of kissing. The teenager rubbed at her cheeks, a hand on either side as Billie continued, and then Mavis nodded.

"I understand, yeah," At some point in the night, not that Mavis could pinpoint the exact time, Billie had disappeared for a while. Killian, too, but Mavis had been distracted by Magnolia and some of the others. And she'd also had a little too much to drink, so most things were a bit of a blur. The Gryffindor wasn't sure how they had gotten back to Craven tonight or how the strap on her sandal had broken, but she wasn't worried about either explanation right now.

"I think everyone sucks at drinking when they start. Like that's part of growin' up, innit? But like… we learn or get better at it, maybe you get used to it? Is that how it works?" She stopped rubbing at her cheeks long enough to say too many words for a decently winded sentence and then shrugged. Then, Mavis smiled sheepishly and leaned in toward her friend as if to tell a secret. "I dunno'; I still feel kind of drunk…."