Post by dominique on Dec 20, 2009 3:28:48 GMT
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i'm gonna pack my bags
and run far far away.
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[/center] i'm gonna pack my bags
and run far far away.
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People wouldn't peg Dominique Weasley as the running type. She was much to dressy to run around in the early morning or even at all. But Dom did run when she couldn't sleep or when her thoughts seemed to subside somewhere she didn't want them. She ran to clear her head but she always claimed, when people asked, that she ran to stay in shape for quidditch. Quite honestly it has very little to do with quidditch or staying in shape. It was, more or less, a way to keep her sanity when things were becoming more then she could handle, or if she just couldn't sleep.
In this case it was the later. Dominique Weasley was having terrible, horrible, dreams that kept her up half the night in fear. Domi didn't admit well to fear. She liked to be brave and secure. She liked to have the control, in her dreams (or nightmares), she gave up that control completely. So she'd get up and she would run until the thoughts were gone. She never knew how long it would be, as it was never a fixed plan. She would just run until her heart was racing and her lungs were near giving out. She ran in the cold best, though hated running in the night. So when she slipped out of bed around four, into a pair of sweats with a sweater and some running shoes, and tied her hair up into a high pony tail- you knew she meant business.
And that she did. She ran and she ran and then slowly came to a stop. Her lungs were on fire, her skin cold to the touch but her entire inside was hot. She was burning, but her skin prickled cold. She loved that feeling- that contradiction. She took a few moments to regain her breath as she followed the path back up to the school. She planned on slipping back into the castle without a single soul knowing she had left. Then something twitched inside of her that forced her toward the lake. It was just near sunrise and for that reason alone the sight would be beautiful.
Of course watching the sun rise from the owlery was Dom's favorite as you could see the light cast over everything, but this view, she knew all to well, was just as beautiful. AS she moved toward the lack she allowed her body to lean against the cool surface of a stone. The autumn air chilled her body, but she did her best to shake of the shivers. She sat for a minute letting the air fill her lungs and her body regain the energy it needed. Then, finally, her breathing fell into its normal pattern. Her eyes faced the Black Lake, admiring its beauty.
Out of all the places this would have to be the one place she was most fond of. She did have seven years, after all, of tested theory's and this place was one that made her feel most secure. She'd never thought about it much, but her favorites came down to this place or the quidditch pitch. She knew, for a fact, that this place was the more relaxing of the two, and maybe for that reason alone, it was her favorite. But the pitch was a place that brought her pride and that was a feeling that Dominique enjoyed to the very core. It was her deadly sin, you see, and as she sat there admiring the beauty of the lake she couldn't help but wish that someone was there to admire it with her.
talking to anyone in six hundred words.