[ LEAVE ME BREATHLESS. ] -- brigs

[grace holland]

It had been a tricky week back for Grace Holland. Not only did she had to contend with all of the back-to-school rigmarole, but she also had a slight situation on her hands with one of Hogwarts hottest (in her opinion) male students. Balancing school while also managing an active social life, as it turns out, is not as easy as it seems. One would have thought that the year between one’s O.W.L.’s and one’s N.E.W.T.’s, that the school work would be a bit more laid back. Actually, to her surprise, that is not the case. Loaded down with school books and a list of assignments, Grace lugged her way down to the common room. It was the place she most preferred to study. The library, for all it’s fabulous studying amenities, was just too quiet and contained for her liking. She just couldn’t concentrate without a little bit of noise in the background. Which, as anyone would agree, was not to be found in the school’s library. Not to mention it was a less than ideal place to plot how to resolve the situation with aforementioned hot male. No, the common room was a much better place for that. For one, it would be easier to track him down there since they were in the same house and, for another, it was a much more casual setting. For whatever reason, it was just so awkward talking relationship things amongst bookshelves and fussy librarians.

Now, the hot male went by the name of Brigham Striker. For almost as long as she’d been at Hogwarts, she and Brigs had been friends. Good friends, at that. And, up until recently, that’s all that had been between them. Easy, flirtatious camaraderie. Grace was a little more protective over him, despite him being twice her size and a year above her, than she was of most of her other friends. But, to her, that hadn’t made a difference in their friendship. There had been nothing faintly romantic about it. It wasn’t even anywhere close to the kind of friends-with-benefits relationship she shared with Donny. And then it happened. That pivotal moment where feelings start to change without either party realizing it. All it took was a smile. A slow, dimpling, disarming smile as she’d hugged him goodbye at King’s Cross before being whisked away by her father. At least, that’s the first moment the Grace remembers that she had felt different around him. A sort of tugging anxiety in the pit of her stomach whereas before it had simply been a friendly affection. She supposed it could have started before then, there were plenty of times, surely, that other sort of feelings could have started developing. Yet, it was the memory of seeing him smile at her that had stayed at the forefront of her memory for the better part of a month. Likely, it would have stayed there all through the summer. If she hadn’t run into him at the menagerie in Diagon Alley.

Which was what she wanted to talk to him about. It was obvious, at least to her, that they had somehow fallen in that unknown space between being friends and being more than friends. What she wanted -- no, what she needed to find out, was what Brigs wanted to do about. For her, she was confused. Of course, she valued her friendship with him but there was a large part of her that wanted to explore this new development between them. She was afraid of the cost, though, and reluctant to be as impulsive with Brigs as she would have been with anybody else. As she had been with Landon. And, truth be told, nothing bad had come of it. But Brigham was an altogether different breed from Landon. While Donny was a womanizing, free-bird sort -- Brigs was honorable and sweet and rather like a hero in a romance novel. Their friendship could be irrevocably damaged if they allowed themselves to follow through with their feelings. Which was, also, another complication. Did Brigs have feelings for her beyond friendship, beyond the attraction he’d already shown. Grace had attraction, she wasn’t oblivious to looks she received from those of the male gender -- nor was she deaf to the gossip about her promiscuous behavior in the past. But that’s not what she wanted from Brigham. That is what she wanted to find out. Whether or not they could and/or would pursue a relationship with each other or remain strictly friends. She could live with both, she thought.

If he wanted to be with her, it was obvious to state that she would be a willing participant. But if he wanted to just be her friend, she was okay with that too. Or she would be. So, arriving in the common room with her load, she plopped down on an empty sofa. Loosening the tie around her neck, she unbuttoned the top few buttons of her uniform shirt and rolled the sleeves up to her elbow. Her hair was high on the crown of her head in a pony tail. Pulling out her History of Magic textbook, she propped it on her knees and began to study. Or, pretend to as the case may be. Through her lowered lashes, she watched the students as they shifted about the room. Coming and going, coming and going. Eventually, he would have to turn up and she would be there when he did. The anxiety about the situation between them had grown to such a point that it needed to be stated and resolved. It couldn’t be put off for any longer. It had to be ripped off like a band-aid almost. Whatever the outcome, Grace was certain she would feel better once they talked about it.

[brigham striker]

One more day down in his seventh year at Hogwarts meant one less day young Brigham Striker had to enjoy his juvenility. Once that very last day rolled around, he was now longer considered a young teenager. He would have to make his entrance into the world as a man; strike out, find a job, a place to live. He'd be leaving his family and friends for a whole new adventure that not even the grand teachers of Hogwarts could prepare him for. Of course, in the case of Brigs, his father had already made several plans for the young man. Guaranteed interviews had already been put in place with the Wimbourne Wasps and the Chudley Cannons out of England, not to mention his own hometown team, the Kenmare Kestrels. Even the American team the Sweetwater All-Stars had sent a scout out to watch him play last year. It seemed that everyone Brigs met with about his future was waiting to see what it was he might amount to. His life had become a standstill of sorts. He had to wait to graduate, and he must wait to see what the Quidditch season would bring. The scouts and managers were waiting to see newer, fresher games. Everything was a waiting game it seemed, even in his personal life.

It had not been too long ago that Brigs ran into the leading lady of his dreams. Her gorgeous brown locks of hair and those blue-green eyes that kept his gaze in a sort of trance. Every time he caught her eyes, he was captivated and bewitched without the need for a spell. Brigham would just as quickly look away whenever she would notice, but those eyes would be burned into him. How could things have changed between them so quickly? She was Grace, Grace Holland. The same girl who had showered him with friendly affection and given him reprieve for his enduring behavior. Over the years, they had spent so much time together, laughing and joking, studying for O.W.L.s and playing quidditch. They were best friends through and through, yet Brigs could not stop himself from seeing her in a new light. Suddenly, Grace was no longer the scrawny, gap toothed eleven year old trailing behind him as they went down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the matches. She wasn't even the defender of his teddy bear-nature when the Slytherins came to abusive him. Despite the fact he could probably break any one of their necks with his bare hands, he stood stoic as Grace rebuked them and reassured him. Even when his sister was killed, she was the one friend who went about the normal days, slipping him kind and empathetic looks here and then. Perhaps it was their closeness as friends that had changed his views of her?

She was the almost the only person who truly knew him to the core. This was also the reason risking a more intimate relationship could prove devastating if failed. Inside and out, he had no secrets from her, except for the feelings he now harbored deep within his chest. Should he selfishly gamble their seemingly unbreakable bond? Brigs was lost in his rather small world, and topped off with the prospect of having to impress his father and all sorts of Quidditch scouts, he felt suffocated. All his thoughts, all his feelings seemed to be pounding in his chest and head, pleading for absolution. He had no idea how to qualm their uprising, or how to release himself of such grown-up responsibilities. One thing had been for certain, ever since that encounter in Diagon Alley, Brigham had been careful to skirt around wherever Grace may inhabit on any given day. He wasn't sure he could face her at the present time. After all, what could his affections possibly amount to in comparison to all the suitors clamoring for her attentions within these castle walls? Brigham was a small fish when correlated to school lads like Landon Appleton, Freddie Weasley, or even the contemptuous Kiernan Robinson. The friendship zone was the cross he shouldered for being so damn trusting and likable. He was a caretaker, a protector, never a ladies man, nor did he have any experience in it. Brigham Striker was pretty much a loner in his romantic life, yet deep down he yearned for some kind of attachment, some kind of connection.

His thoughts eluded his sense of direction, and Brigs nearly ran down a few first year Slytherin girls on his way towards the Hufflepuff common room. With a muttering of apologies towards the young girls, he hurried off down the corridor and towards a short flight of stairs. He was still able to hear their giggling and marveling remarks about him as he turned the corner. His lonely love life notwithstanding, Brigs hadn't been without the dreamy stares of younger girls, even those in his own age range. He wasn't ignorant enough not to notice his own looks, but he wasn't so vain as to capitalize on them. In fact, they were almost like a curse on the poor boy. He had never let romance interfere with his studies or his Quidditch playing before. His father had drilled into his head there would always be time for those things later on in life. Foolishly, Brigs believed him, but things had begun to change for him when thoughts of his future amassed in his brain. Suddenly, he was wary of every glance given to him by a female student, and he felt the weight of their stares on his back whenever he may pass by. The truth still remained, the only woman he harbored feelings for greater than that of friendship was the woman whose form upon a couch in the yellow and black common room greeted him.

Brigs fumbled through the entrance way, dropping a few books from his schoolbag as he did so. Stooping down to the ground to retrieve A History of Magic, and Advanced Potions, he began to stuff them unceremoniously into his bag. With a glance upwards, he made sure not to look at her eyes directly, but make sure her presence hadn't moved from her spot of leisure. Brigs became acutely aware of his quickening heartbeat, and his nervous composure. Reaching up, Brigs loosened the black and yellow tie around his neck and unbuttoned a few buttons on his crisp white shirt. The thing already lay untucked around his waist, adding to his worn appearance as he stood up and looked around the common room. He was actually at a loss as to what to do. Should he go over to her? Should he just grab a chair across the way and open a book? Maybe head up to his room for a change of clothes before dinner? Never before had so many decisions lay in front of him.

[grace holland]

There was a strange jolt that went through Grace, a sort of awareness that had precluded any thought or feeling she had previously been experience. Before she even turned her head, she knew that he had finally entered the common room. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, causing her to shiver involuntarily. She felt her heart quicken as she debated whether or not to turn and look. The rational part of her brain told her that she should, if she wanted to get his attention and actually have a conversation with him. But she was hesitant, suddenly nervous. More nervous than she ever remembered feeling before. Certainly, if she'd already made up her mind how she would feel either way the outcome went, she should be almost eager to have this conversation. Except she wasn't and she couldn't explain it even to herself. Chewing on her bottom lip, she studied a loose thread in the sofa cushion. Should she turn to look? Maybe wave her hand and beckon him over? Was she truly ready to have this conversation? She admittedly had been putting it off since they'd been back at school, what could be the harm in another little while?

Grace knew she was being ridiculous. There was absolutely no reason to be as wishy-washy as she was being about Brigs and their...situation. Her blood pounding in her ears, she finally turned her head as her eyes instantly caught the familiar sight of him. She blinked, looking him over briefly, her eyes drinking him in. Until that moment, she hadn't realized how much she had missed him in the past week, in the month since they had last spoken. Though she was still nervous as hell, a slow, uncertain smile spread across her face. Sitting motionless, still reluctant to do the one action that would start a chain of events she had no control over, she looked at him. A million thoughts seemed to jumble through her brain at once that she could hardly make since of them. One, incredibly loud, thought became more pronounced than the others. What if he decided they should just be friends? Suddenly, Grace wasn't so sure she would be okay with that. Her reaction to just seeing him was a testament to that.

Things had changed between them. Possibly irrevocably. Maybe they had to explore these new found feelings between them before they could just be simply good friends. God, it would have been so much easier if their relationship had started out as her's and Landon's. Somehow, Grace knew she didn't truly want that either. She had loved being Brig's friend and the different sort of friendship they'd had -- vaguely flirtatious and over-protective at times. Not that she didn't love Landon, or their type of relationship, but it was different. With Landon, she knew exactly where she stood at all times, their friendship had been an easy segue from having been together. With Brigham, it had been a slow sort of friendship that had developed with neither expecting such an outcome as this. It truly worried her that their friendship might not survive this -- whether or not they ever got together.

Which, to be honest, was being as much a distraction as wondering over these strange new feelings. The boy was a hot piece of man flesh and Grace was far from immune to the affect he had on her -- and on pretty much every other girl. She'd just somehow been able to ignore it before. It was that quality that perhaps had made her protective of him. That and his tendency to always be the knight in shining armor for any female that batted her eyes at him. True, she could be categorized as a damsel in distress that he'd once rescued. However, Grace prided herself on being self-sufficient and would never admit it. Finally, she calmed a bit and her rational thought began to take over impulse. As hesitant as it was, she raised a hand and waved it slowly towards her, scooting to one end of the sofa to clear a spot for him. Might as well get this over with. Maybe it would work like a band-aid -- do it as quick and painless as possible.

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