love ascella.
- in which the veela half-breed and hero of slytherin are involved in an unlikely affair of love.
#1 in half-breed 21/2/21
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WHAT IS A SKY without stars and what are the stars without the moon? That was the singular question circling the mind of the eldest Soulier daughter, blonde hair flailing about her face, caressing the fair skin and shielding her Veela beauty from the crisp autumn wind. She hadn't cared much for October, Winter had been her favourite season. So why did she find herself pondering the light blanket that hid the gas and rock that based so far from her? She knew the stars existed, yet they were so out of reach, so invisible.
She crossed her legs sitting within the stands of the quidditch grounds. Sketchbook lent against her knees, attempting to hide their redness from eyes that did not exist. Perhaps she was hiding from the stars. Or perhaps they were hiding from her.
It had been the first quidditch practise for the new and improved Ravenclaw team, led by an eager Kendrick Salem and buzzed with the innocent excitement of an energetic Esmé Soulier. After bargaining and pleading, Ascella had agreed to conceal Esmé's new role as seeker from their parents, as Odette and Vincent would undoubtedly disapprove of their daughters choice to partake. It hadn't been a gendered distaste, simply a protection of their children's beauty, their purity, and Ares would not be an exception. So, alternatively, Esmé settled upon allowing her older sister to observe practises and matches, ensuring her safety.
Seeker was not a safe role after all, the danger of pelting bludgers from anger-driven beaters being the primary weapon used against fast paced flyers chasing after gold. Wether that be the snitch or the quidditch cup, Ascella wasn't sure, she didn't know much about Quidditch.
She was aware of trouble however, despite being far out of earshot, it wasn't difficult for her to interpret the sudden argument between Kendrick and the Slytherin team captain beneath her.
They spoke with furrowed brows and gestured rather largely with their hands and arms. Ascella never spoke with her limbs, she spoke with necessary pauses and a dry tone consisting of sarcastic wit. Was she aware of her superiority? She wasn't too sure.
Eventually the argument closed, Kendrick massaging his temple and Esmé clutching her broom with a tight grasp, positioning herself slightly behind the older boy. Ascella would torture him if he ever tried anything on her little sister, then remembered the nights they shared in the common room and their short lived dates to Hogsmeade, silently cursing herself for thinking so little of someone who made her feel so big, lifting her high upon a pedestal that she could not get down from.
As the Slytherin team left, Ascella lost interest, returning to her half-hearted sketch of a determined Esmé and enthusiastic Kendrick, then quickly scribbling over the doodle and writing a small note in cursive.
