We meet again| Sidra

[Zaeric Blackwood]

The boy was extremely mellow as of late. With the weather changing he was comfortable, and not so irritable. In fact, it was times like this when he seemed most like himself. So the boy took his music library into the student lounge to work on some writing and poetry and things. It would be good for him to be able to have louder music and get some things done. His roommates were currently all in their rooms, seeing as it was later in the day, but the lounge seemed to be a student free zone at the moment.

He walked in, nodding to himself. He hooked his mp3 player upto the speakers. The last thing he had listened to [which happened to be a certain german song by E-Nomine] played for a moment before he stopped it. Jack Johnson was more what he wanted to hear right now. The boy found his playlist and let the tunes crank out, soft and wonderful as they were. It was only when he went to flop over onto the couch that he saw her Little Miss Gothica, or Fang Girl as she would be immortalized to him.

" Oh, it's you. " He muttered, his good mood suddenly gaining a slightly sour edge.

[Sidra Cotton]

The area she shared with Stella and Belle had been overtaken by chatter and giggling and everything Sidra had wanted to get away from. She had craved quiet. Needed it. And had finally found it in the most unlikely place of all. The Student Lounge.

She was sprawled on the couch, her booted feet were propped on one armrest of the couch and her back was propped by the pillows against the other. Held in her hands was a well worn copy of Brahm Stroker's Dracula, and as her usual Sidra was decked out in full goth regalia. It only took one look for her lips to curl back and and a characteristic hiss to sound.

"Is there no where I can be free of annoyances today?" Zaer. Her nemesis on campus. He was damned lucky that her violin had dried out and worked properly when plugged into speakers again. Damned lucky indeed. "What," figurative acid from her tongue, "Do you want, worm?"

It wouldn't matter what he said. Her quiet moment was ruined. Her peace. Her serenity, if Sidra ever experienced such, was shattered, burned, and scattered to the winds.

[Zaeric Blackwood]

Zaer rolled his eyes with much emphasis. He could feel his blood boiling and he was in a good mood. Seriousl? The freaky goth kid couldn't just hang out in her own dorm and not the place he frequented most? Really. There was so much acid dripping from her tongue when she spoke that he wonddered how it was even possible that the thing didn't melt from her head. The boy decided that her blood must be made of poisoned honey. A sneer lifted the corner of his lip as he spoke.

" I ws coming here to enjoy music and maybe get some writing done. Unfortunately I happened to run into a pesky bat who found its way into the house." and by that he meant he found Sidra there. He had hoped to just enjoy his time, but no, he had to worry about her. Great. Just freaking ngreat. Already his good mood was evapiorating and it was all her fault.

[Sidra Cotton]

"I think we pretty well established that what you listen to isn't 'music' by definition. Just people whining into the microphone about how unfair life is and why having blue eyes is the worst." She sneered over the top of her book. "But by all means, sit. Listen to your music. Just don't bother me."

She could ignore him easily enough. As long as he didn't breathe loudly, or shift in his seat, or have his craptastic music loud enough to be heard through the ear buds. Sidra could fall into the world of Dracula and be perfectly, happily content.

Returning her eyes to the page, she began to read once more, the heels of her booted feet comfortably perched on the arm of the couch, and the soft rustle of a page being turned were the only indication that she was there. Except, she knew he was there. Knew he was breathing. Knew he was in her space. Her nemesis.