[COLOR=GRAY][CENTER][COLOR=8A9A5B][sup]________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sup][/COLOR][url=https://open.spotify.com/track/0tWEB6BxbI48XN79QE1JbT?si=daee42597078432a][img]https://i.ibb.co/589szLm/harperbanneri-copy.jpg[/img][/url][/CENTER][indent][sub][COLOR=8A9A5B][B]Location:[/B][/COLOR] [I]The Beach[/I] - [I]Pacific Royal Campus[/I][/sub][sup][right][COLOR=8A9A5B][b]Welcome Home #1.024:[/b][/COLOR] [I]Tempest[/I][/right][/sup][/indent][COLOR=8A9A5B][SUP][sub]____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________[/sub][/SUP][/COLOR][indent][sub][color=8A9A5B][B]Interaction(s):[/B][/COLOR][I] Gil [@Roman], Katja [@Zoldyck], Amma [@Rockette][/I][/sub][SUP][RIGHT][COLOR=8A9A5B][b]Previously:[/b][/COLOR] [COLOR=GRAY][I]Rainbows[/I][/color][/right][/SUP][/indent]


Harper’s brows furrowed slightly, a crease forming between them as Amma addressed her. A faint hint of unease washed over her face, like a cloud passing over the sun, as she slowly processed the interaction that was occurring. Despite her innate discipline, a discipline honed through years of tough love and the navigation of complex social waters, she couldn’t help but feel a thread of disconcertment weave through her thoughts, tugged into existence by Amma’s unyielding intensity and her peculiar, almost theatrical mannerisms. 

As Harper offered her gift, a cold can with droplets of condensation sliding down its sides, the brunette managed a tight-lipped smile. It was a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, eyes that were busy noticing the subtle shift in Amma’s stance—the way her grip on the still unopened can had tightened imperceptibly, her knuckles whitening for a moment as if the can be a precious object too worthy of her taste buds.  

[color=8A9A5B][i]She doesn’t like it.[/i][/color]

Harper didn’t need to use her ability to see that. 

Nonetheless, the girl offered a nod, her gesture one of tentative acceptance of the other’s expression of… gratitude? It was a question that hung in the air, unanswered. 

She then took note of Amma’s distraction by the others, her eyes briefly flitting over her shoulder to gauge the unfolding scene. Upon witnessing Lorcán’s stumble and subsequent fall, a crease of concern carved itself deeply between her brows, her lips pressing into a thin line of worry. Her body reacted instinctively; a small step forward was taken with the readiness of one prepared to offer aid. However, her attention was abruptly reclaimed by her immediate surroundings as Gil’s voice, deep and unexpected, resonated from just beyond her shoulder. Startled by his unforeseen proximity, Harper’s muscles momentarily coiled tight, her sharp gaze snapping to him. Her mind raced to piece together the silent approach he had managed, her senses heightening as she tried to understand how he had evaded her notice.

A disquieting sensation gnawed at the brunette, an intuition that something was profoundly amiss with the entire scene unfolding before her. Yet, despite her efforts to pinpoint the anomaly, the reason remained elusive, shrouded in a fog of uncertainty that seemed to cloud her usually impeccable judgment. It was as if her mental faculties were ensnared by the same enigma that currently disturbed her peace.

She had to do it now. She [i]had[/i] to use it. 

The shift in the atmosphere was a subtle one, a nuance that would have escaped any other observer but Harper. They often say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, and at this moment, as hazel locked with blue, there was an entire saga written in the depths of their gazes. 

As Amma addressed Gil, Harper detected the undercurrent of tension that seemed to weave through the very air around them, a silent tempest gathering strength in the space of their interaction. Amma’s laughter, which to an untrained ear might sound carefree and genuine, carried a certain edge—a sharpness that Harper couldn’t quite identify. It was as though the laughter was nothing more than a fragile facade, a thin veneer that struggled to conceal an underlying strain, a pressure that simmered just beneath the surface, threatening to shatter the illusion at any moment. 

Harper’s gaze subtly descended, her eyes narrowing as Amma continued to speak. The slight clench of her jaw and the almost imperceptible grinding of her teeth betrayed a mix of emotions—irritation, wariness, and an emerging twinge of something green and very ugly.

As Amma uttered Gil’s name, it was with a tenderness that seemed to caress each letter, a familiarity that struck a dissonant chord within her.  

Harper was no fool; she was acutely aware of the kind of attention Gil often garnered—the admiring glances, the flirtatious conversations, the subtle and not-so-subtle advances. 

But this was different. 

This was [i]primal[/i]. 

Harper couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a raw edge to Amma’s voice, a certain timbre that hinted at wild, untamed depths and instinctual urges. It was a tone rich with the resonance of shared secrets and perhaps intimate moments, suggesting a connection that transcended mere acquaintance. This very undertone, this subtle yet unmistakable note of intimacy, set Harper’s nerves on edge, kindling a flame of jealousy that flickered fiercely within her, a flame she desperately fought to keep hidden.

Harper watched, a masochistic part of her unable to look away, as Amma’s gaze began its slow, deliberate descent then ascent of Gil’s form. Her eyes shone with a brightness that belied a deliberate intensity, almost as if she were claiming ownership with her stare. Her eyes appeared to linger on certain points of Gil’s physique, her gaze pausing with an almost predatory precision. It was as though she were etching every contour, every line of his body into her memory, cataloging each detail with a possessiveness that left Harper feeling a cold that could rival Calliope’s inside of her.

Harper’s heart raced, a frenetic drumbeat echoing in her chest. Each pulse was a rapid staccato, a tumultuous rhythm that surged through her veins with an urgency that mirrored her inner turmoil. It was as if her heart was trying to outrun the cascade of emotions that flooded her system—the sharp sting of jealousy, the biting chill of apprehension, and the simmering heat of anger. With every beat, her heart seemed to thrum louder, faster, a wild thing caged within the confines of her ribcage, desperate for release. 

Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, nails biting into her palms. The pressure was a grounding force, a physical sensation that helped to tether her to the present moment, to keep her from being swept away by the storm of emotions that raged within her. The world around her seemed to dim, her heightened senses receding as she released her ability, the intensity of the experience leaving her drained and unsettled. As the vibrant hues faded, replaced once more by the muted tones of the evening, Harper was left with a lingering sense of unease, the echoes of her turbulent heartbeats still reverberating in her chest.

And then, Katja’s arm encircled her, drawing her into a tight embrace. Harper’s eyes widened, her breath catching. She hadn’t anticipated this—Katja’s warmth, the unexpected closeness. But as she registered Katja’s genuine joy, the tension in her shoulders eased. The sincerity in her voice was unmistakable, her joy at seeing them again palpable. Harper found herself leaning into the embrace, allowing herself to be enveloped by the warmth of Katja's enthusiasm.

As she adjusted to the closeness of the embrace, Harper became acutely aware of Gil's proximity. Her heart skipped a beat, the earlier chaos of emotions momentarily forgotten as she focused on the sensation of his arm pressed against hers, their bodies sandwiched together within Katja's hold.

[color=8A9A5B]"It's good to see you too, Katja,"[/color] Harper replied, her voice soft and sincere, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. 

As Katja placed them down and settled her hands on their shoulders, Harper couldn’t help but feel a sense of security in the familiarity of the gesture. Despite the chaos of emotions that had plagued her earlier, there was something grounding about the presence of her bulky friend—a steadying force amid uncertainty. 

However, as Katja broached the subject of the dance, Harper’s heart sank. The earlier apprehension rushed back with renewed force. She felt her cheeks warm, the weight of the question settling heavily on her shoulders. The dance—an event that held both excitement and now a great deal of trepidation.

Before Harper could respond, Katja’s attention shifted. A glint caught her eye—the spare beer can still in the brunette's hand. The conversation veered, and Harper’s shoulders relaxed slightly. The weight lifted, if only for a moment. She watched as Katja quickly consumed half the beverage, a brief reprieve from the topic at hand. But even as Harper hoped for a complete change of subject, she knew that Katja’s expectant gaze would soon return to her and Gil. 

Steeling herself for the inevitable, Harper mustered a small smile, her eyes flickering towards Gil as she prepared to address Katja's inquiry. [color=8A9A5B]"To be honest, I haven't given much thought to the dance yet,"[/color] she admitted, her voice soft but steady. [color=8A9A5B]"I've been so focused on other things that it kind of slipped my mind."[/color]

As she finished speaking, Harper couldn't help but wonder how Gil would respond, her stomach tying itself in knots as she awaited his answer.


[/color]