All in all Pim's day had been less then exciting. Classes were over and they would be leaving the next day for vacation, but somehow the excitement hadn't phased him. All around the school, everyone he talked to only had one thing on their minds. The party of the entire Holiday break. The Party that was always the topic of much gossip, rumors, and secrets. It was the Kensington's bash and he had never had much of a desire to go. He trusted that he could avoid drama on his own, but running headfirst into it was not going to make things any easier. This was one feeling that had changed this year. All year long things had kind of been...well...boring. Aside from the recent strange project all of the 6th years had gotten, nothing of real excitement had swirled around the student body, at least anywhere near where he had been. He had put himself on the back burner all year long. There was nothing about his sixth year of school that made any difference. Nothing exceedingly important to remember and nothing to separate it from his other years at school. So Why shouldn't he go to the party?

A part of him wanted to rise above the challenge and find something else to do. Pim had always been seen as the quiet loner, never really associating with many people. The thing was, Pim's Gryffindor sorting had not been for naught. He wasn't afraid of social environments and he wasn't worried about embarrassing himself or looking a fool in front of his peers. He had an air of acceptance about those kinds of things. A kind of air that made him seem arrogant. Like he was too good to associate with anyone rather then he was a shy person. He accepted that he was 16, going to get in trouble, and going to be embarrassed eventually. Those things were bound to happen and he wasn't going to waste his time being afraid of them. He was a simple boy, who liked simple pleasures. He would laugh if he was happy, be upset if he was sad, yell if he was angry, he wasn't one of these complex puzzles that most of the students were. I mean for god's sake, sense when did life have to be so damn complicated in the first place? If you wanted to make the choice to act a certain way, then do it! He was slightly put off by this idea that things just 'happened' to students and they were just so unlucky. He was a firm believer in the fact that you make your own life and your own luck and if the other students hadn't caught up to his way of thinking, then that was just another attitude that made him seem superior to everyone else.

Recently though, those inevitable unavoidable feelings had settled in his head and they were harder to shake with philosophy and psyche speak. Most of his strange revelations and life lessons could be explained and inspected through his writings. An escape he had always taken and thrived in. It was more of a need then a hobby, as most passionate members of the human society believed their hobby's to be. The kind of stigma you attach to something defines how much it defines you. And if you applied this to Pim then Writing most certainly defined him. He was an old soul and writing was the only way that people could appreciate this fact about him. He wasn't out of touch so much to believe that quoting famous philosophers in every day conversation would be considered normal or even impressive. Recently he had so much more to write about considering his feelings flowed onto his pages as often as they flowed through his mind. his life was an open book...literally, though not nearly finished.

The very subject of these feelings is what had caused his recent change of mind about the Kensington's party. He wanted to go, but going alone was not an option. He knew who he wanted to ask, but he also knew that he should have asked a long time ago, and that his chance had probably been used up. He didn't want to be upset about that fact but it was easier said then done. Lorelai and he had been close for a while. Their intellect and silent nature suited their relationship. Yet it seemed that around her he was more talkative and a lot more excited then he ever had been. He probably should have realized his feelings a lot sooner, but who can decide when these things hit a person? All he knew was that now that he finally knew, he shouldn't waste it. At least...he shouldn't have wasted it.

He was in a rare mood, sort of indecisive on what to do and a bit upset. He wanted to go upstairs and write, use this odd feeling to write a few paragraphs. However, he had been sitting in the common room for a while, and the red blaze of the fire had attracted his gaze. He blinked, finally realizing what he had been staring at and felt the burn in his eyes. They watered slightly and his vision popped with little white lights as he looked away from the blaze. The room was almost empty, it was rather late. He should have been making sure he was packed for tomorrow but there would be time for that a little later. He was to comfortable and to tell the truth feeling too sloth at the moment to move. His feet stretched to rest on the table in front of him, his back leaning up against the back of the chair. It was a comfortable and lazy position, and soon his eyes started to drift closed.
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He was in a half state, still slightly aware of the crackling fire, but also starting to see imaginary images in his mind's eye. Pim's dreams were vivid, bright in color and more often then not a little disconcerting. He actually favored this. Though with his more morbid dreams he would sometimes awake gasping for air, he always remembered them, and they gave him such wonderful stories. His best works were dreams he'd had or ideas he'd gotten from dreams. He was just about asleep when a sound behind him made him jump slightly. The loss in balance sent his chair teetering, and he had to stand and grip the back of it to keep it from falling over, causing a screech as the legs ran across the hard floor. He stood behind his once occupied seat, forcing his eyes to open. His hand swiped across his bangs and then his face, helping him to wake up. The image he conjured would have been comical had he not been so embarrassed about his flailing antic just now and wondering what had actually woken him up. He could make out someone standing a few feet away from him, and as he blinked a few times the face came into clear focus. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not. It seemed too much of a coincidence that the subject of his thoughts had so suddenly materialized when it didn't seem at all a convenient time to do so. He smiled slightly in her direction. "Lorelai?" He yawned. If he was dreaming, it certainly wasn't a bad one. "What're you doing up so late?" He didn't realize how long he had been sitting there. He couldn't have drifted off too long ago and yet he could see the moon from the window in the common room, a benefit of Gryffindor being one of the highest towers. He didn't think he'd be able to stand being down in the dungeons and never seeing the light.
He was more awake now, aware of what was going on and certainly aware that he wasn't dreaming. He leaned against the small circle table behind him and tucked his hands into the pockets of his pajamas. Being more awake he realized what second chance he had been given. He wanted his former courage. The courage that he had been contemplating on not half an hour ago. He had been so desperate for a chance to ask her and so sure that he would do it. Now that he had the chance he was hesitating. It must be very late and she looked as if she had just come in. Somewhere in his groggy state it didn't register to him that she was a prefect. He was still slightly fighting through his exhaustion which was easily being pushed aside as his nerves started to interfere. His philosophical confidence was all well and good in his head, but now he felt like he was going to sink into the floor for all the bravery he supposedly had. It had never been hard to talk to Rory. But he knew that came from a basis of friendship. This was a step to the next level as far as he was concerned. He suddenly wondered how he was going to make that obvious. Asking her to the bash could just as easily come across as asking her as a friend. Unless he made it obvious that he wanted to go as a date. Oh man...why couldn't he have just written a romantic note or something. He was so much smoother on paper then in real conversation. Lack of experience pending.

As his state cleared there was one thing he did register though. she didn't look too happy. He couldn't place what expression her face had shaped but he knew it wasn't a pleasant one. Of course he could just be kidding himself and it was exhaustion. but then again should he really risk not asking and have something be wrong that he could have helped her with? His hand went to the back of his head to smooth down the hair he knew was sticking up. "Is something wrong?" He looked to the hearth. The flames were still lit, whether they had rekindled themselves upon her entrance he wasn't sure. "Actually why don't we sit down." He waited for her to move ahead of him and then took a seat beside her on the sofa by the fire. It would have fit to add 'There's something I want to ask you.' to the end of his sentence. It would have been easy and quick. Well it should have been that way. Instead his cowardice got the better of him and he didn't say a word about what was on his mind. He hoped she couldn't read it on his face he was usually very good at controlling his emotions, one reason why this sudden step in a new direction with Lorelai was made all the more obvious to him. It was like he couldn't flow as smoothly when he was around her. She made him tongue tied and he was a writer for goodness sakes.
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Admittedly he was simultaneously relieved and annoyed that the point had not yet come up. If Pim was known for anything it was being the philosophical deep kid, whether that was to his advantage or not. He couldn’t even bring up a simple question and worse yet he was afraid to do it. If he really thought about it there was good reason for being afraid. Pim was that kid who was the friend. He had never been the leading man and never really had the desire to be. But in his eyes Lorelai was the leading lady. Even if she wasn’t meant to be his. She was pretty and smart enough to get any guy she wanted, and at a place as socially make-or-break as the Kensington bash, why would she risk being seen with him? At that thought he had to suppress a bit of a laugh. He wondered how a few kids had suddenly risen to the kind of status that intimidated other students and if it wasn’t for the fact that a date with Lorelai was an exciting prospect, he probably wouldn’t have even wanted to go. Of course if it was this hard to talk to her, he realized that the date would just be even more awkward. He really needed to relax if he was going to get anything accomplished, here or otherwise.

For a moment he seriously considered pushing her for more information. He didn’t like seeing her upset, I mean honestly, a good friend wouldn’t want to see their friend upset over anything serious or not. The temporary pondering of what had her so worried erased the momentary nervousness of the situation. He knew that she had confessed to having trouble with another student in the past, not very recently as far as he knew though. He hoped that it was resurfacing. Looking at Lorelai, eyes like a bush baby and frame as fragile as a leaf, it was hard to believe someone could find any kind of self satisfaction with picking on her. Lorelai could have a sharp tongue when she wanted to he knew, but he also knew that conflict wasn’t exactly something she sought, it was one of the things that attracted him to her so much.

It was late, he could tell that she really did look exhausted and he was starting to feel extremely silly about this whole ordeal. For heaven's sake he was the guy in this relationship and as logical as he was he still had a sense of pride. He couldn't clam up and back out of something that could turn out to be so great for him. That wouldn't not be smart and definitely only end up with him feeling sorry for himself alone over the holiday season. Writing depressed poetry and regretting not asking her. Someone else may even ask her before he could...unless someone else already had. It wasn't as if there was a whole lot of time left and if she was going to go she probably would have decided to have everything planned a long time ago. Most girls he knew had already started getting their dresses and deciding how they would get there and who they would find once they got there. He was definitely behind and he needed to get on the ball. But with this new fear in his head his hesitation only seemed to grow and his confidence deflated a little more. It that had been at all possible.

He tried to think of something to say to deflect the question and turn it back around. He couldn't very well tell her that he had been waiting up for her...or maybe he should. It was the truth after all and it wasn't as if it could turn out badly except in the way of his pride. Or maybe it could. Maybe the admittance would just make her feel uncomfortable about the whole thing...especially if she didn't feel the same way about him as he did about her. He could feel his stomach knotting even more and his lips spoke the words before his head could really properly form them into an eloquent sentence. "I was actually staying up to wait for you. I mean I fell asleep I guess...but I wanted to make sure you were okay...I mean I didn't know anything was wrong...I guess I forgot you had duties-or something." Oh smoooooth Keedle, real smooth. He wanted to slap his hand against his face like some kind of old cartoon character. What a loser. He took a breath, letting the words form in his head clearly before he spoke them, there was no time for fear to get in the way of this one, he had already made himself look like a huge idiot. "Actually...I wanted to ask you something, and I realized that unless I caught you tonight...I wouldn't have another chance."

He felt like he was hanging on the end of a bait line.

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