HOME | DD

Description
Pumkin looked out over the crowd. Everyone was dressed in the most elegant of robes, red and gold, blue and green, white and purple. The women in gowns swept over the floor like feathers, seemingly light as air as they danced with their partners. They all laughed and talked and listened to music as they enjoyed the party.
Unlike everyone else in the room, being the wallflower he is, Pumkin was glued to the outer walls of the room, a pit of unease in his stomach.
Pumkin had never been the most outgoing child, nor teen. He tended to avoid human interaction if he could. However, since his father was a noble, with all the parties they went to and people he met it was rather hard to avoid strangers.
He stood there alone, until his parents made their way through the crowd toward their son. Pumkin's father wore a suit of purple and gold, which matched well with the gold spectacles that sat on the end of his chubby nose. He had a belly to him and a bit of an under bite when he smiled his goofy grin. Behind him trailed Pumkin's mother. She was much shorter than her husband. Her curly, gold hair trailed down her back, tracing her spine in an elegant braid. Her warm whiskey eyes smiled when she looked at her son. She wore a mostly gold dress with some red mixed in, and an amber necklace that had two small diamonds on either side. Pumkin flashed them a smile when he saw them.
"Why don't you socialize, enjoy the party?" His mother asked him.
"Yeah, Pumkin," His father said, giving him and encouraging clap on the back; which hurt a bit, though Pumkin didn't mind. "Why don't you go dance?"
Pumkin looked shyly at his feet, not meeting his fathers gaze. "I'm fine here, thank you."
His parents exchanged a look of slight disappointment. "alright," His mother murmured. "But you have to promise me you're enjoying yourself." Pumkin nodded, finally looking up at her. She gave him a reassuring look, warmth in her eyes, and his parents left him.
Again, he was alone by the white wall, a splash of red against the egg shell background. And once again. he was looking out upon the crowd. They all talked with their friends and drank sweet wine or sherry. He couldn't say he had friends besides Mary, one of his family's maids, and his aunt he supposed.
Then he noticed another person, a boy, standing alone. He had short, sea green hair that was mostly swept out of his face accept for a few lazy strands that dangled in front of his eyes. He wore mostly green and he, too, was shying away from being social. He glanced at Pumkin, and upon noticing that Pumkin was watching him, smiled in his direction. Pumkin quickly looked away, turning his attention to whatever was right in front of him. However, it was too late. The boy meandered over to him and nodded when he reached the wallflower.
"This party's a bit of a bust, isn't it?" The boy said, sketching a smirk on his face. Pumkin looked up at him in surprise.
"Excuse me?"
"It is," The boy insisted, "There's no one to talk to without them bringing up how wealthy and successful their children are." Pumkin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had never met anyone who was so blatantly rude.
"I'm sure that's not true, it's not that boring." Pumkin attempted to defend the gathering.
The boy looked at him with content, "Well, I don't see you talking to anyone." Pumkin looked away for a moment, out into the crowd, and realized what he had said was true. All these people ever talked about was their house or their family or their new paintings. As he had said, it was quite boring.
"What's your name?" He asked the boy.
The boy grinned, showing off even, white teeth. "Squib, Squib Monrova." He held out a hand.
Pumkin eyed it for a moment, and then took it. "Pumkin Cardiner."
"Cardiner," Squib repeated, putting his hands in his pockets. "I could swear I've heard that somewhere.
Pumkin smiled, "Maybe, I'm sure there are different Cardiner's somewhere. Perhaps that's who your thinking of."
"Maybe," he said, "Who's your father?"
"Uhm, B.M. Cardiner is what he goes by." Pumkin answered.
The boy's eye's widened slightly, "B.M. Cardiner's you'r dad?"
"Yes," Pumkin wasn't sure why that was a big deal, and became a little self conscious.
A woman stepped out of the crowd in a light blue dress, her similarly colored hair was swept up and held fast to her head by pearly pins. Her blue eyes smiled, but held a concealed hostility when she saw who Pumkin was standing with. Pumkin knew her as his Aunt Wanda.
"Hello," She said, not taking her icy blue eyes off Squib, who squirmed under her gaze.
"Meet me in the Garden..." Squib mumbled before hastily turning and walking from the room. Pumkin wasn't even sure if he was supposed to hear that, but nonetheless watched him go, then turned back to his aunt. "You shouldn't be talking to him," she said. "You're lucky I'm the only one that saw you."
Pumkin furrowed his brow in confusion. It was apparent that everyone else knew something he didn't. "Why is that?"
She told him, "His family isn't exactly the most trustworthy." She loosely put an arm around him, "why don't you join me and your father over there." She gestured toward Pumkin's father in the middle of the room. Pumkin nodded, and together they walked across the smooth, tiled floor.

The rest of the night dragged on at a sluggish pace. Pumkin could have sworn it had lasted days for how long he had been standing, listening to older people talk of things he couldn't care less about.
Then he remembered. Before Squib had left, he told Pumkin to meet him in the garden outside the house. That could be his escape from this boring drivel he was hearing.
He quickly excused himself and made his way through the crowd, every once in a while uttering an "excuse me" or "pardon". Eventually he was able to escape into the hall and eventually found the door leading outside. He strode through the green house, then out into the yard. From there he passed an old swing and out toward the circle of rose bushes he assumed was the garden. Within the circle of fragrance grew a Cherry tree that shed it's petals like snowflakes, which fluttered to the ground with the slightest breath of wind. Beneath said Cherry tree was a stone bench. On which sat Squib with his sea green hair and his piercing emerald eyes. He sat lazily; slouching and leaning his elbows on his knees while his hands absently worked a rose petal.
Pumkin watched him from the break in the bushes. He pulled at his sleeves, as if waiting for some sort of cue.
Squib suddenly took notice of the recluse watching him and looked up, a grin growing on his face. He sat up. "There you are, I thought you'd never show up."
Pumkin smiled and stepped closer, making his way over to the bench. Squib moved over and Pumkin sat next to him.
"How was the party?" Squib inquired.
Pumkin sighed, "Boring," he chuckled. "I was just standing there for what felt like hours while they talked about..." Pumkin paused, thinking. "actually, I wasn't paying attention to what they were talking about."
Squib laughed, "that's just like me when I'm at one of my parents parties. Sometimes, I won't be paying attention at all and suddenly hear 'right honey?' and I pretty much just nod and hope the answer was yes." Pumkin found himself laughing again, which faded into a lonely smile.
"It's not like I had anything better to do while they talked, anyway." Pumkin told him.
"Why didn't you ask someone to dance?" Squib asked him.
"Nah, I'm too shy...." He confided, turning a little pink. "And it doesn't really matter, since I don't know how to dance anyway."
Squib perked up, his interest peaked. "I could teach you," He said, standing and holding out a hand to Pumkin. Pumkin looked up at him, the figure of his new friend silhouetted against the late evening sky. Pumkin took his hand and Squib lead him a little ways away from the bench. "I'm gonna show you, then you do it, okay?" He instructed. Pumkin nodded.
Squib put Pumkin's hand on his shoulder and took his other one, then half wrapped his arm around Pumkin and pulled him in close.
"Start with your right foot," Squib said, "when I step forward, you step back, got it?" Pumkin nodded again, unable to take his eyes off of Squib's. And then they started to move.
One step, two steps, three steps; Pumkin hadn't faltered yet. His attention was turned toward his feet, the steps, the dance, the closeness.
"You've got it," Squib said encouragingly. He smiled, meeting Pumkin's gaze. His smile faded as he was lost in the whiskey ocean that stared back at him.
They soon glided to a stop, looking at each other for a moment.
"See? Uh, I told you you could do it." Squib said, sounding a little nervous. Pumkin smiled and chuckled, equally as nervous, and broke their gaze. his heart was fluttering like a bird and he felt as if it had flown right up into his throat. He found that he couldn't retrieve the words he wished to say, and had all but given up of speaking to his dance partner.
"Do you want to practice the male part?" Squib asked. Before Pumkin could answer, his mother's voice carried over from the house.
"Pumkin," she called.
Pumkin looked in the direction of the house, then back at Squib. The moment hung before they both realized they were still standing quite close. Squib awkwardly stepped back and they both didn't look at each other for a moment.
Squib cleared his throat, "until next time," he said, grinning. Pumkin smiled too, feeling carefree at the moment. Squib bowed, and so did Pumkin.
"Until next time," Pumkin agreed, and with that left the garden, bound for the house.

Description
Pumkin looked out over the crowd. Everyone was dressed in the most elegant of robes, red and gold, blue and green, white and purple. The women in gowns swept over the floor like feathers, seemingly light as air as they danced with their partners. They all laughed and talked and listened to music as they enjoyed the party.
Unlike everyone else in the room, being the wallflower he is, Pumkin was glued to the outer walls of the room, a pit of unease in his stomach.
Pumkin had never been the most outgoing child, nor teen. He tended to avoid human interaction if he could. However, since his father was a noble, with all the parties they went to and people he met it was rather hard to avoid strangers.
He stood there alone, until his parents made their way through the crowd toward their son. Pumkin's father wore a suit of purple and gold, which matched well with the gold spectacles that sat on the end of his chubby nose. He had a belly to him and a bit of an under bite when he smiled his goofy grin. Behind him trailed Pumkin's mother. She was much shorter than her husband. Her curly, gold hair trailed down her back, tracing her spine in an elegant braid. Her warm whiskey eyes smiled when she looked at her son. She wore a mostly gold dress with some red mixed in, and an amber necklace that had two small diamonds on either side. Pumkin flashed them a smile when he saw them.
"Why don't you socialize, enjoy the party?" His mother asked him.
"Yeah, Pumkin," His father said, giving him and encouraging clap on the back; which hurt a bit, though Pumkin didn't mind. "Why don't you go dance?"
Pumkin looked shyly at his feet, not meeting his fathers gaze. "I'm fine here, thank you."
His parents exchanged a look of slight disappointment. "alright," His mother murmured. "But you have to promise me you're enjoying yourself." Pumkin nodded, finally looking up at her. She gave him a reassuring look, warmth in her eyes, and his parents left him.
Again, he was alone by the white wall, a splash of red against the egg shell background. And once again. he was looking out upon the crowd. They all talked with their friends and drank sweet wine or sherry. He couldn't say he had friends besides Mary, one of his family's maids, and his aunt he supposed.
Then he noticed another person, a boy, standing alone. He had short, sea green hair that was mostly swept out of his face accept for a few lazy strands that dangled in front of his eyes. He wore mostly green and he, too, was shying away from being social. He glanced at Pumkin, and upon noticing that Pumkin was watching him, smiled in his direction. Pumkin quickly looked away, turning his attention to whatever was right in front of him. However, it was too late. The boy meandered over to him and nodded when he reached the wallflower.
"This party's a bit of a bust, isn't it?" The boy said, sketching a smirk on his face. Pumkin looked up at him in surprise.
"Excuse me?"
"It is," The boy insisted, "There's no one to talk to without them bringing up how wealthy and successful their children are." Pumkin couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had never met anyone who was so blatantly rude.
"I'm sure that's not true, it's not that boring." Pumkin attempted to defend the gathering.
The boy looked at him with content, "Well, I don't see you talking to anyone." Pumkin looked away for a moment, out into the crowd, and realized what he had said was true. All these people ever talked about was their house or their family or their new paintings. As he had said, it was quite boring.
"What's your name?" He asked the boy.
The boy grinned, showing off even, white teeth. "Squib, Squib Monrova." He held out a hand.
Pumkin eyed it for a moment, and then took it. "Pumkin Cardiner."
"Cardiner," Squib repeated, putting his hands in his pockets. "I could swear I've heard that somewhere.
Pumkin smiled, "Maybe, I'm sure there are different Cardiner's somewhere. Perhaps that's who your thinking of."
"Maybe," he said, "Who's your father?"
"Uhm, B.M. Cardiner is what he goes by." Pumkin answered.
The boy's eye's widened slightly, "B.M. Cardiner's you'r dad?"
"Yes," Pumkin wasn't sure why that was a big deal, and became a little self conscious.
A woman stepped out of the crowd in a light blue dress, her similarly colored hair was swept up and held fast to her head by pearly pins. Her blue eyes smiled, but held a concealed hostility when she saw who Pumkin was standing with. Pumkin knew her as his Aunt Wanda.
"Hello," She said, not taking her icy blue eyes off Squib, who squirmed under her gaze.
"Meet me in the Garden..." Squib mumbled before hastily turning and walking from the room. Pumkin wasn't even sure if he was supposed to hear that, but nonetheless watched him go, then turned back to his aunt. "You shouldn't be talking to him," she said. "You're lucky I'm the only one that saw you."
Pumkin furrowed his brow in confusion. It was apparent that everyone else knew something he didn't. "Why is that?"
She told him, "His family isn't exactly the most trustworthy." She loosely put an arm around him, "why don't you join me and your father over there." She gestured toward Pumkin's father in the middle of the room. Pumkin nodded, and together they walked across the smooth, tiled floor.

The rest of the night dragged on at a sluggish pace. Pumkin could have sworn it had lasted days for how long he had been standing, listening to older people talk of things he couldn't care less about.
Then he remembered. Before Squib had left, he told Pumkin to meet him in the garden outside the house. That could be his escape from this boring drivel he was hearing.
He quickly excused himself and made his way through the crowd, every once in a while uttering an "excuse me" or "pardon". Eventually he was able to escape into the hall and eventually found the door leading outside. He strode through the green house, then out into the yard. From there he passed an old swing and out toward the circle of rose bushes he assumed was the garden. Within the circle of fragrance grew a Cherry tree that shed it's petals like snowflakes, which fluttered to the ground with the slightest breath of wind. Beneath said Cherry tree was a stone bench. On which sat Squib with his sea green hair and his piercing emerald eyes. He sat lazily; slouching and leaning his elbows on his knees while his hands absently worked a rose petal.
Pumkin watched him from the break in the bushes. He pulled at his sleeves, as if waiting for some sort of cue.
Squib suddenly took notice of the recluse watching him and looked up, a grin growing on his face. He sat up. "There you are, I thought you'd never show up."
Pumkin smiled and stepped closer, making his way over to the bench. Squib moved over and Pumkin sat next to him.
"How was the party?" Squib inquired.
Pumkin sighed, "Boring," he chuckled. "I was just standing there for what felt like hours while they talked about..." Pumkin paused, thinking. "actually, I wasn't paying attention to what they were talking about."
Squib laughed, "that's just like me when I'm at one of my parents parties. Sometimes, I won't be paying attention at all and suddenly hear 'right honey?' and I pretty much just nod and hope the answer was yes." Pumkin found himself laughing again, which faded into a lonely smile.
"It's not like I had anything better to do while they talked, anyway." Pumkin told him.
"Why didn't you ask someone to dance?" Squib asked him.
"Nah, I'm too shy...." He confided, turning a little pink. "And it doesn't really matter, since I don't know how to dance anyway."
Squib perked up, his interest peaked. "I could teach you," He said, standing and holding out a hand to Pumkin. Pumkin looked up at him, the figure of his new friend silhouetted against the late evening sky. Pumkin took his hand and Squib lead him a little ways away from the bench. "I'm gonna show you, then you do it, okay?" He instructed. Pumkin nodded.
Squib put Pumkin's hand on his shoulder and took his other one, then half wrapped his arm around Pumkin and pulled him in close.
"Start with your right foot," Squib said, "when I step forward, you step back, got it?" Pumkin nodded again, unable to take his eyes off of Squib's. And then they started to move.
One step, two steps, three steps; Pumkin hadn't faltered yet. His attention was turned toward his feet, the steps, the dance, the closeness.
"You've got it," Squib said encouragingly. He smiled, meeting Pumkin's gaze. His smile faded as he was lost in the whiskey ocean that stared back at him.
They soon glided to a stop, looking at each other for a moment.
"See? Uh, I told you you could do it." Squib said, sounding a little nervous. Pumkin smiled and chuckled, equally as nervous, and broke their gaze. his heart was fluttering like a bird and he felt as if it had flown right up into his throat. He found that he couldn't retrieve the words he wished to say, and had all but given up of speaking to his dance partner.
"Do you want to practice the male part?" Squib asked. Before Pumkin could answer, his mother's voice carried over from the house.
"Pumkin," she called.
Pumkin looked in the direction of the house, then back at Squib. The moment hung before they both realized they were still standing quite close. Squib awkwardly stepped back and they both didn't look at each other for a moment.
Squib cleared his throat, "until next time," he said, grinning. Pumkin smiled too, feeling carefree at the moment. Squib bowed, and so did Pumkin.
"Until next time," Pumkin agreed, and with that left the garden, bound for the house.