i might be too strung out on compliments.

[Aiden Neeson]

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[/b]

Aiden didn't show up in the library unless he was in the most desperate of situations. Typically, he avoided the place like the plague. It was too dark, it smelled weird, there was dust that got on his clothes and too many bookshelves and tables that he could accidentally scuffed the toe of his meticulously polished dragon hide shoes on. Not to mention the library was too often occupied with the uptight, studying types. Which the majority of, let's face it, were painfully dull. Sure, it was fun to dog-ear a page every now and then to watch one of them lose their minds, but driving nerdy Ravenclaws could only hold his interest for so long. The only other reason Aiden would show up in the library was to track someone down, mostly a girl and usually because it prevented them from being able to get too uppity with the noise level enforcements and encouraged low talking in close quarters. Unfortunately for Aiden, today he was in the library, scrunching up his nose at the smell of old books and weaving his way through aisles to locate -- dare he say it -- a book. Obviously it wasn't for recreational purposes, but rather because it was that time of year again where professors were demanding longer essays, harder projects and longer bouts of homeworking. Just to make the last couple of weeks before Christmas holiday as least enjoyable as possible. And the only subject that would force Aiden to subjecting himself to a place such as the library was, of course, potions.

Oh, potions. The bane of Aiden Neeson's existence. He strolled down the potions shelves, blue eyes glancing over covers, keeping a look out for something that might just come in handy. Caoimhe had suggested (with plenty of superiority, mind you) a few texts that would be useful for decoding the jumble of measurements and directions necessary for brewing the Everlasting Elixir. He found one she had suggested and carefully pulled it from the shelf, flipping it open with a little physical contact of his fingers because it was common knowledge that of all the library books, ones on potions were the ones that always had sticky pages and covers smeared with Merlin only knew what. On time when Aiden had checked out a book to help with a potions essay on the uses of flobberworm pus, something on the spine of the book had made a neon yellow line across the thigh of his trousers that he was never able to clean off. Lip curled in distaste, Aiden scanned through the book until he located the pages he needed, closed the book with a snap and turned to head back to the check out counter. The sooner he got out of the place, the better he would be and the safer his new slacks would be. Luckily, this book didn't seem too defiled.

With the book tucked under his arm, Aiden had been so focused on getting out of that dank room as quickly as possible that he almost missed the flash of blonde hair in his peripheral. He stopped, took one step backward and craned his neck to look back down the aisle he had just passed. When he saw Bridget Taylor hovering around a bookshelf. Well, his potions assignment would just have to wait a bit more. Turning on the heel of his squeaky new shoe, Aiden strolled leisurely down the aisle, casually looking to his left and right at the various books until he had reached the Ravenclaw girl. "Why, hello there, Pixie,"

[/color] Aiden drawled in a low tone of voice, promptly leaning his shoulder against the books she had just been peering at. He looked at her for a moment and sucked in on his lower lip in an attempt to mask his smirk. He tilted his head at her and rose an eyebrow carefully. "Returned to the scene of the crime, have you?[/color] he asked, referring to the first time they had met in the library when he had knocked into her and she had accidentally picked up one of his books. "Unfortunately, this is just on loan,"[/color] Aiden said, momentarily lifting the book in his hand. "So you won't be able to nick is and scrawl 'Mrs. Neeson' on the pages like you did with the last one."[/color] He gave her a pointed look before flashing her a smile. Bridget ones one of his favorite skittish little Ravenclaws.

[/blockquote]

[/blockquote]

[bridget]

The holidays around Hogwarts were, as Bridget had observed over her six years as a student, a rather trying time for many. As soon as December hit, boys and girls alike started stressing excessively over the Yule Ball. Who they were going with, what they were going to wear, who they hoped to get stuck under the mistletoe with... of course, this meant the rumor mill went nuts. Bridget tried to avoid that aspect of student life as much as she could, but it was difficult to ignore her classmates when, say for example, they start screaming in the hallway because Billy asked Sarah out and not them. Somewhere between the first and second week of December, the 'holiday cheer' begins to set in. As a general rule, this stage involved a lot of staring out the window longingly during class, playing in the snow after class, followed by sitting by the fireplace and gossiping after dinner. People walked around singing carols, discussing their family plans for break, and plotting get togethers - all while wearing their mom's old ugly Christmas sweater. And then the third week of December rolled around. Only a few more days until the much-anticipated Yule Ball, and even more anticipated two week break (as if that were even possible). The third week, for Bridget, was definitely the most amusing... and as she looked around the library, she knew (and even if she had no idea of the actual date, she would know). It was the third week of December.

Everyone looked miserable, really; she couldn't blame them, either. The library was up to the brim with all the idiots who'd decided they'd rather build a snow man and make out with their significant other than do their homework. And then the Professors would pile on assignment after assignment, plus tests and quizzes, and it became glaringly obvious to the fools that they had no option but to actually pay attention in class and do homework... and then they would realize that they haven't actually paid attention in Merlin knew how long, and they would be forced to cram everything in last minute. And then the poor souls who'd wander into the library, without a clue of how to even properly locate a book. It was laughable. Quality primetime entertainment, really, especially watching them get aggravated. Last year, actually, she'd started doing the cramming before third week, getting ahead, just so she could slack off in the library, and watch her classmates attempt to maintain their sanity. Tonight, she actually did have a few things she'd need to put extra effort into, specifically a Transfiguration essay. Although she had already read ahead in the chapter, she thought a bit of supplemental reading would be of benefit, so she found herself perusing the bookshelves. Being in a particularly good mood (whether that was because of Simon or the holidays approaching or the amusement she got out of her fellow classmates, she wasn't sure), she found herself humming an Elvis Presley tune quietly to herself. Bridget's fingers traced gently on the spines of the books as she tried to find the one she needed. It was a book she'd checked out a few months before, but she couldn't recall the title of it. She was sure she'd remember once she saw it, and she was almost certain it was in this aisle...

She popped up on her tippy toes, so she could get a good look at the titles that were higher up, and just as she saw the one she needed and reached up, she saw someone walk by... Aiden. Eyes widening, she turned on her heel and retreated toward the end of the aisle, praying to God he hadn't seen her. Keeping her head down, she tried to look occupied with a hangnail... but it hadn't been enough. When she looked up she saw Aiden walking toward her, looking pleased as ever. He leaned up against the shelf, right next to the book she needed... dammit. "Oh... hello... you..." she eyed him and slowly began walking back up the aisle, staring aimlessly at the books. But she needed to look busy, you know, since having a casual conversation with an attractive, older man was obviously not something she was capable of doing without distraction. She just glared at him in response, unable to think of a witty comeback. Bridget knew that if she opened her mouth she would just end up saying something completely stupid. And then he would tease her. And then she was turn red - oh, wait, too late for that! It wasn't like it was a real crime, it was just an accident but - oh, the nerve of him. "Oh, wow," she exclaimed in mock-surprise, lifting her eyebrows, "I'm just astonished you're not used to that yet." ...Huh. She was rather impressed with herself for being so sarcastic at a time like this!

[Aiden Neeson]

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Aiden would feel bad for Bridget if he wasn't so entirely distracted by how fun it was to bother her. She just made it too fun for him, was the problem. Avoidance tactics and dismissive words just further encouraged him. Sort of like a wild-dog scenario: if you try to run away it's just going to make him want to chase you more. She was so cute when she was trying to get away from him. And that precious glare of hers just made him grin wider. And was that a little tinge of deeper pink coming across her cheeks? When she started to walk back down the aisle, he followed her at a leisurely pace, keeping a distance from her but still just close enough to be within a three foot radius of her. Aiden shrugged his shoulders casually. "Never said I wasn't used to it,"

[/color] he replied simply, looking distractedly down at his shoes and walking around her. "Though I would say your coy little antics make you stand out a bit more."[/color] He watched for a moment as she inspected the books again but, displeased with her split attentions. "You didn't happen to take my new pair of quidditch trousers, did you?"[/color] Aiden asked, narrowing his eyes and peering at her suspiciously. "Because those have gone missing as well and you seem to like to follow me around."[/color] He leaned his back against the bookshelf, solidly planting himself between her and any hope she had at grabbing a book form that section. Really, Aiden was aware that Bridget tried to avoid him at all costs -- it was a bit easy to tell when someone saw you walking down the hall they always promptly turn the other direction -- and if anything he was the one who sought her out. He crossed his arms over his chest so he wasn't towering over her so much. Aiden sighed. "If you really wanted into my pants you could just ask nicely, Bridget"[/color] Aiden suggested in an honest tone and a thoughtful nod.

[/blockquote][/blockquote]

[bridget]

Bridget raised her eyebrows at him. "Antics would imply trickery, Aiden, as if it were part of a big plan to ensure that..." she paused, suddenly becoming aware of how uncomfortably close he was to her. She wrinkled her nose as she looked him up and down in displeasure, not shy at all about hiding it. "...I stand out to you," she finished blandly, leaning back on her heels and taking a step away from him. She wasn't sure what the hell he was playing at, but apparently it wasn't evident to him that she wanted nothing to do with him. God. Confusing. Glancing back up at the book shelf, her eyes searched desperately for the one she needed; it was her emergency escape tactic and she was pretty damn sure she'd be needing it with him around. Her eyes widened at what he said next, and color flooded to her cheeks again. She glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes before turning to him, a rather concerned look on her face. "I can't say that I've seen them around..." She let her voice wander off before knitting her eyebrows together, as if in deep thought. "But if I were you," she continued, "I'd check with the Aiden Neeson Fan Club?" She raised her eyebrows hopefully. She knew she would regret being so bold later, she just knew it, but for now, she was kind of enjoying being sarcastic with him. It was promising, as well, that she hadn't completely choked on her own words as she would have expected herself to. She was making progress with the opposite sex! Good news. "I did see a little third year picking up a tissue you'd dropped in a garbage can and putting it in a baggy." She grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. "Now, I may be the President of the Club, but I am in no way responsible for the dumb things they decide to do," Bridget added with a shake of the head before she followed his suit, leaning up against a bookshelf and crossing her arms. She glanced up at him and let out a loud laugh, before slamming a hand over her mouth and staring around suspiciously, almost expecting Madame Pince to come swooping out of no where only to hit her over the head. Luckily, she didn't, and Bridget took a deep breath to gather herself. She looked at him and pointedly refuted his claims. "I am fairly certain there isn't anything of interest to me in your pants, Neeson." She spun around and started searching for her book, yet again uncomfortable with the situation. Spotting it, she stood on her tippy toes and reached up, but soon realized she wasn't tall enough to get it. "I." Throwing a glance up at him, she looked ashamed of what she was about to ask. "Would you mind grabbing that big blue one?"