<div class="floatleft">(https://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/1/1f/Lyre_Sly_1.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Lyre Savage (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=284413.msg14118339#msg14118339)<br/><strong>Wearing: </strong>Deluxe (Nude)  (https://i.pinimg.com/736x/e0/69/7d/e0697d6fd9c9122a160ddc91e7b87f76--suit-green-dark-green-suit-men.jpg)<br/><strong>Blood Status:</strong>Pure<br/><strong>Wand:</strong>Maple, Dragon Heartstring, 13 in, Unbending, literally glowing<br/><strong>House/Year:</strong>Slytherin 3rd Year<br/><strong>Date:</strong>Saturday, September 30th, 2017 (Day After Bonfire)<br/><strong>Time/Day:</strong>Afternoon<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Slytherin Lavatory / Commons / Bedroom<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong>Shower. Reflection.<br/><strong>THEME:</strong>♥ ❤ Do you know where your heart is?<br/>Do you think you can find it? Better than you had it? ❤ ♥ (https://youtu.be/cQuR3OOr6Y8)<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong><em>Jaxon! Iain!</em><br/><hr/><br/>In the cold green, silver, and black dungeon for a lavatory, Lyre Savage stumbles to the showers and turned on a lukewarm spray of waterfall. Dropping the soiled suit at his feet, he begins stripping down his pants, slower and lazier than he had done underground. He glances back casually at the mirrors and stops, somewhat startled. He has almost forgotten. There is a bruised scar on the back of his neck, much worse than a hickey. There is no hiding it. He exhales. At first appearance, he thinks he is looking at a constellation, a ring of stars. He thinks:<em>Mark of Jaxon</em>.<br/><br/>He steps into the shower, worrying what he's going to tell Iain over dinner. In his mind, Jaxon's voice rings out:<em>"I think a kraken has more bite than that, Lyre. Tell me how much you love this."</em>Lyre squeezes his eyes shut, letting the water run down his face that tasted the damp stony wall, before he washes his hair.<em>"Fair enough next time not as hard... this time though." Grunt. </em>He chuckles. Jaxon would shrug at this entire thing and start his chaos theories and how simple choices really were in the heat of the moment. Then a different voice runs through his mind, starkly giving his body deep chills:<em>"Oh, come on Lyre. I've seen you check me out. If your eyes were lasers my ass would have burn holes."</em>Why is he hearing Iain now! That isn't helping. Is this guilt?<br/><br/>Scrubbing down his body, Lyre makes sure to be gentle massaging down there. He flinches and pulls away suddenly when the water smacks the bite mark on the back of his neck. Frustrated, he slams the dial cutting the shower short. Drip, drip, drip! His head bows, his lips slack, and his breaths waver. Should I cancel? He already regrets asking. No, that's even worse. Should I tell him? Well, Iain's going to notice the Mark of Jaxon in no time anyway so might as well, maybe in the fashion of ripping off a band-aid; quicker the pain, shorter the pain.<br/><br/>He shakes his head, scoffing at himself. Pathetic. I'm single, I do what I want, and if Iain gave a fuck, he would've given a fuck before.<br/>Then of all people, his father's voice echoes in his mind.<em>"One sweet at a time, Lyre. Pays off in the long run, and it is so very long."</em><br/>How can he choose? Lyre dries off with a towel, his mind going blank, zeroing on the pasta noodles that's supposed to be al dente.<br/><br/>There was a fire in Iain's eyes once upon a time, he could have sworn that. Jaxon on the other hand accepted who he was -- easily.<br/>I don't regret playing with Jaxon, he thinks back on last night and today. But who'd love me in the end? Probably neither Gryffindor man.<br/>So stop thinking! He wraps the towel around his waist, walking out the lavatory with his clothes in arm. Just tell Iain, and see what happens.<br/><br/>Lyre hesitates at his bed, hissing a little at the sight of Iain angry with him. And not in a good way.<br/><br/>Whatever you do, Lyre insists, don't pretend to be sorry. You're not sorry. You're just, you're just ... alone.<br/><br/><hr/>