"Isn't it past your bed time Pey?"

Peyton sighed and gave a slight roll of her eyes as she turned back to her book. She knew Jason well enough - seven years sharing the same general proximity with a person tended to force people to get to know each other - and knew that he had as much class as... well... it wasn't easy to identify something so classless. He had about as much class as a Veela on a very, very bad hair day, but all the charm of one on a good day. And that was what made him so dangerous.

Lifting her book again, Peyton wrinkled her nose a bit before burying it in the musty, old pages. She thought that perhaps Jason would just continue on his way to and from wherever and pay little more attention to her. After all, who paid attention to abrasive, cold Peyton? Not many. She listened carefully as Jason's steps moved across the common room, and when she heard them slow near to her chair, she looked up and into the fire, as though saying to it 'Oh, give me a break.'

She didn't move when she felt Jason's hands on her shoulders, but just sat, holding her book in front of her. How long would she have to ignore him to get him to move along?

"World War I ... a bit gory for a girl of your, ..delicate nature, yes?"

"No," she replied solidly with a quiet click of her tongue, turning quickly away when one of Jason's hands relocated itself from her shoulder to her cheek. Just who did he think she was? Really! She sighed inwardly, trying to look as though she was staying focused on her book.

Out here all alone..., kind of makes a boy wonder who you may be waiting for?"

"Not you," she huffed quietly. Why hadn't he moved on yet - wasn't it clear she didn't care for his physical advances? Since when was she that sort of girl, anyway? One would think that if Jason were truly as debonair as he seemed, he would at least know what intelligent women can't be wooed by physicalities alone.

"You're tense; snap in half if you don't relax."

"I fail to find my tenseness any of your concern, Jason," she said, finally shutting her book, keeping one finger between the pages she'd been trying to read.