Rowland didn't move from the window as she entered, already knowing it was her by the way she had recounted the doors. "You're late, Goshawk," he said, his voice sharp.
Miranda winced at his tone. "I'm... sorry," she mumbled, as if for the millionth time. She fell still, just inside the door.
Rowland turned around. "Well?" he asked, his eyes hard. "What do you suggest that we do? The whole bloody school will know now."
"... I don't know, Rowland," Miranda said quietly, biting her lip hard. "... how many people read your journal anyway?"
"Rookwood did. And he'll ruin me if he gets the chance. And now he has."
Miranda chanced a glance at Rowland, looking obviously distraught. "I forgot, Rowland!" she protested finally. "I'm sorry!"
"You can't FORGET, Miranda," Rowland yelled, taking a step forwards. "You can't DO that."
"But I DID!" she shot back immediately, too lost in her own inner turmoil to recognize her bravery. "And I said I was sorry!"
"SORRY doesn't change anything," Rowland shot back angrily.
"Then what WILL change something? Tell me and I'll do it!" Miranda cried out. I'll do ANYTHING for you!
Rowland looked at Miranda, and then scoffed, turning and walking away as if disgusted. "I don't know," he looked down, his face shadowed. After a long pause he spoke again, stumbling over his words... something he never did. "I don't think we should see.. each other... anymore."
Miranda's eyes widened, her body freezing as if paralyzed. "... w-what?" she whispered, her voice suddenly cracking. No! No, this is a joke... It must be!
"You don't understand the reprecussions, Miranda." Rowland said quietly, leaning against the window as he turned around. "It could ruin us both..."
"No... there... there must be something we could d-do!" Miranda said desperately, fighting back the urge to just collapse from despair. Her knees were already trembling. "I'm n-not ruined..."
Rowland turned and looked at Miranda, fighting the urge to walk over and put his arms around her...Assure her that everything would be alright. "...if you're seen with a Lestrange? What would your housemates say? Your parents?" He looked down...his chest hurt, and his shoulders seemed to be weighed down. "I don't want to make things any harder for you..." he whispered.
"Honestly, Rowland..." she murmured. "They wouldn't care. Really!" But even Miranda knew how stupid she sounded. Obviously her housemates would be shocked... but her parents? They wouldn't know the difference between a Potter and a Black. "... My parents wouldn't care."
Rowland looked down, silent. He wasn't sure what to say...If only things were different.
"What about your parents?" Miranda blurted out, eyes wide and searching. Maybe they were like her parents, after all... She didn't know the Lestranges.
"My parents...are not the same as yours," he said, his voice toneless.
"Don't they want you to be happy?"
"Happiness doesn't exist when you're a Lestrange." he said quietly. "Neither does love."
"But it does!" Miranda insisted, clinging to her last strings of hope. "You love me!" Miranda quickly fell silent, cursing herself... "... right?"
Rowland looked up sharply. No...don't...Stop. STOP. "Yes. Miranda." he said, then closed his mouth before he could go on. His jaw clenched tightly, he walked over to Miranda. "We can't do this."
Miranda didn't trust herself to breathe. She stared at Rowland, hoping that... well, everything could be okay. "We... can't?"
"No," he forced out, his voice sounding bitter in his ears. "We can't." Looking down at Miranda, he sighed quietly, reaching out to tuck a stand of hair behind her ear and keeping his hand cupped against her cheek.
Miranda didn't even shiver now at his touch. Instead, she leaned into his hand, grateful at least that. "... I disagree."
"Your world is sugar coated, Miranda," he said quietly, bitterly, not moving his hand, as he took in her features. She's so beautiful.
"Yours... can be too," Miranda murmured, hope evident in her voice as she nudged his hand lightly.
Rowland took her face in both his hands, leaning down to kiss her. He stopped though, and stepped back, dropping his hands. "No...no," he said shakily. "That couldn't happen for me..."
Miranda felt herself shudder with disappointment, eyes radiating her feelings. "... yes it could," Miranda whispered, though she remained frozen.
"No, it couldn't," he shot back severly. He paused...and sighed. "It could only be...with you."
"... then be with me," Miranda offered, biting her lip slightly. "Please."
Rowland hung his head. "I wish I could."
"Why -cant- you?" Miranda pleaded, for about the billionth time. This time... she stepped forward. "Why?"
Rowland took a step back. His resolve was crumbling... "You know why, Miranda."
"No, I -don't-," Miranda sighed. "Why can't we just be together? Your parents can't stop you!"
"Yes, Miranda, they can!" Rowland said quickly.
Miranda fell silent, for the moment not sure what to do... She couldn't think of anything else to say, to convince Rowland otherwise... She couldn't think of anything to -say-. Suddenly, Miranda stepped forward and flung her arms around his neck, pushing herself up on her tip-toes and kissing him with a previously unknown level of desperation.
Rowland blinked and wrapped his arms around Miranda's waist, pulling her flush against him.
Miranda sighed inwardly, happily. She closed her eyes tightly, hoping against hope that this moment would last forever. She slipped her fingers into his curls shyly, once again receding as the dominant figure and allowing Rowland to commandeer the kiss.
Rowland kissed her again, intensly, then kissed her cheeks and forehead and ears and all over, his brow furrowed.
Miranda released a small audible moan, relishing in the attention as she craned her neck back slightly. Mmmrr... Happy Miranda.
Rowland kissed along her neck, his intensity somewhat lessened...he didn't want to bruise her. His hands slid underneath her shirt to her soft sides as he moved back up to her lips and kissed her softly.
She responded by returning the kiss, her fingers now playing with his soft curls. She didn't leave time to think, to revel in how happy she suddenly was -- or how Rowland might suddenly stop... all that mattered was Rowland, at this moment.
Rowland pulled back sligthtly, his lips still close to hers. "We shouldn't, Miranda..." he whispered.
"Since when does a Lestrange follow the rules...?" Miranda challenged with a small, slightly teasing smile.
Rowland raised an eyebrow, smiling, then leaned forwards and kissed her softly.
Miranda kissed Rowland back, murmuring softly. She tried to get closer, though her awkward attempts only came across as eager hip-movements.
Rowland couldn't help but smile slightly in the kiss, as he accentally bit her bottom lip lightly.
Miranda made a small gasp, drawing back as intense shivers ran down her spine. She paused, before a shy smile crept across her flushed lips... and then she kissed Rowland again. Rawr!
Rowland grinned, his hips moving against hers without realizing it as he kissed her again.
Miranda groaned softly, suddenly pressed against the wall just shy of the door. She bucked her hips a little, completely absorbed with Rowland again.
Rolwand couldn't help but move his hips in rhythem against Miranda's, sending shivers down his spine as he pressed her against the wall. Once again....everything felt perfect. And he didn't care.