You're My Role Model [ Richard & Knox ]

Setting up was easy enough. His broom hovered on the ground as the acrobat stood on it. Yes, you read that right. Dick was balancing on his two feet, arms out stretched as his balanced on his broom stick. It was times like these he could remember the cheering crowds. The people screaming in awe of his moves. A leg pulled back, throwing his hands, gripping the wooden handle of the broom. His body held on to broom, his legs taunt as the wind blew past him. Sweat was beginning to form at his temples, his throat burning him the cool air that licked at his lungs.

With a push from his arms, bending himself to a sitting position. He legs curled around his broom, keeping himself up right. The lithe teen used his arm to wipe the steadily building sweat brow his brow. There wasn't many areas he could train and perform his moves at.

This was on of his havens here. Here he could truly be himself without having to worry about the torment and ridicule of being a Muggle born.

Knox held the bridge of his nose, his head tilted back ever so slightly. He had suffered another asskicking accident from his broomstick in his earlier flying class and decided he needed some fresh air. Once making sure his face all cleaned up, minus the bruise that rested on the bridge of his nose and tarnished his pale skin, he shuffled to the Quidditch pitch, kinda hoping to see a practice or something, he longed to be like the boys and girls who played on the field, the idea alone made him smile with a childish hope.

Instead he spotted the raven haired boy that he had met last year, and almost instantly beamed at the sheer sight of him. The only thing keeping him from running over calling his name was the fact that Dick seemed to be concentrating, performing breathtaking acrobatics while in the air on his broom, was there anything he couldn't do? . . . then again, he could have been sitting on the green and knitting a sweater for Knox's stray cat and he would have been just as impressed. What could be said? Knox was as any young, only child was, when he saw someone that was deemed fit to be a role model, they would never let him down. When Dick seemed to be finished with his workout Knox grinned and waved.

"Dick!"

He called out as he shuffled over to him, looking up in awe as his pupils grew with anticipation.

"That was so cool!"

Richard had calmed his breathing from the gulps of air to something a bit more controlled, but still a bit faster than calm. His hands rubbed down his face as he heard an all too familiar voice. It brought out a bright, beaming smile that few could honestly rival.

"Heya, Knox!" The acrobat waved, leaning a bit lower. He was only about a foot and a half off the ground, he didn't want to hurt himself if he did, indeed, fall. Dick was such an attention seeker, his smile doubled in size as the second year complimented his moves. It had been a long time since someone had actually said that...

Far too long.

"Thanks, buddy. So, what brings you--." The last of the Flying Graysons' eyes widened a bit witnessing the bruise that flourished in a harsh contrast against the ginger's pale skin, "Hey, Knox, you... okay?" Richard asked sounding a bit concerned. Bruises and cuts weren't all that new to either of them. Knox was a klutz and Dick was a parkour geek. Injuries weren't too far off from day to day life... but still bruises on faces worried him.

Knox's already gleaming smile only seemed to grow more vibrant at the sight of Dick's smile. He couldn't ever really explain it, people usually smiled brightly when they saw him, but there was just something with how Richard's was . . . it put the others to shame at least tenfold. He felt like the older boy's biggest fan, like it was his job to compliment his crazy antics and praise his amazing feats that he performed effortlessly, and he didn't mind this job at all, seeing Richard's smile was plenty enough compensation for the little red head.

He rose a single eyebrow as his friend seemed to fall from his thought, he debated turning to look over his shoulder once seeing how the raven's eyes were, to see what they seemed to be so fixated on. With the sudden concern in the other's voice, Knox paused for a moment, his face softening with a humble ignorance as he tried to think of why he would be asked such a thing? It took him a moment before he let out a soft "oh!" and felt the bridge of his nose, flinching and quickly pulling his hand away as his eyes closed from the sudden wave of pain that pinched and zapped at them. The pain was dull, more discomfort than pain really, but he managed to laugh quietly afterwards; both for his forgetfulness and his stupidity to touch it.

"Yeah, I'm ok."

He said quietly but sincerely, it wasn't anything unusual, there would always be some sort of cut, bruise or burn branding his pale skin, although it usually wasn't on his face and so clear to the world as this lovely number was. Even despite his curse, Knox remained optimistic, even when the brooms beat him senseless, the potions exploded, the charms went terribly wrong, or the magical creatures randomly went on a muck and decided to chase him about across the lawn . . . he still remained optimistic; he wasn't dead right? Right, for now at least, but even then it could be debated that he would remain optimistic.

"Just an overzealous broom I guess."

He joked, finding it was better than complaining that he seemed to be the only student in the history of Hogwarts that ever got the broom with such a spark in it's step. Maybe one day Professor Alexander would be teaching about him because of it.

Richard wanted to laugh at Knox's adorableness. The ginger kid was just... too adorable sometimes. Who touched a bruise to remember it was there and acted so exaggerated about the pain? He felt bad for the bloke but it was still cute to see the second year being such a dork.

"Yeah, I'm ok."

Dick smiled but wasn't overly convinced. Though Knox did tend to get injuries more often than not... maybe it was just a quick rebound reflex he had developed to deal with small injuries such as this one. Richard's eyebrow rose, before furring. An overzealous broom? But why--

"Dude, come on. You know you need supervision before attempting stuff like that." Dick wasn't exactly sure what that was but it had to be pretty much everything in the klutz's life. How he lived to be twelve was beyond the last of the Graysons.

Knox only grinned nervously when Richard almost seemed to nag him like a worried mother hen. It was humorous, but the fact that he cared enough to warn him made his grin almost shine.

"I know . . . there were people around though!"

He said quickly, as if it would make a difference, he made sure to practice in a public area in case he were to ever knock himself out cold, he'd have someone to call the nurses. The redhead rubbed the back of his head embarrassingly, a light pink of humiliation on his cheeks.

"I didn't even get off the ground though . . . so . . . not too much harm done, right?"

He said with a quiet laugh, at least he found it entertaining, a bit, in a way. Knox's eyes then darted down to Richard's floating broom and tilted his head slightly, he quietly wondered if he ever had that problem when he was in his second year . . . or if it was really just Knox . . . even the first years seemed to have an easier time getting off of the ground.

"Have you always been so good at flying, Dick?"

Richard raised an eyebrow, his face twisting into a confused look. If people were around how did he get hurt enough that someone didn't send him to Madam Pomfrey? Dick was thrown for a loop but neglected to say anything that might point to not following Knox's logic. With a sigh Richard shook his head as Knox tried to make him feel a bit less worried. It didn't help, actually but he'd back off a bit and let the kid believe he was in the safe zone.

"Have you always been so good at flying, Dick?"

"Uh..." Dick blinked rapidly for a moment, swallowing a bit of the pain that came up with discussing his skills on a broom. It was his family that made him that good, the family that never got to know what he was and how if he had training he could have saved them, "No. It took practice, but I've been doing this since I could walk. But... in a different format. But, I mean, if you need help I'm always here for you, Knox." He was. He'd always be there for his friend. Especially because he couldn't trust the kid to not accidentally hurt himself.

Knox tilted his head a bit to the side, staring at Dick with his large. curious, earthy hues. To be honest, that wasn't the answer he had expected, the sheer fact that Richard didn't laugh, mess with his hair then proclaim that he was born doing this shocked him. It seemed a bit egotistical when he thought about it, and perhaps a bit out of character but it was that confidence that Knox adored so much about the other. But of course, this story would only help him seem more amazing in the young Hufflepuff's view.

"Oh."

He said quietly, satisfied with his answer but his mind seemed to be racing, he had thirty more questions for Richard, and it was hard to fight them back. But there was something about the way that he hesitated that made Knox not want to pry. To hear that his role model went from his situation to the amazing broom-junkie that he saw before him today was plenty inspiring enough. Another reason why he'd long to be just like Richard Garyson when he was older. The offer of help caused the kid to smile his big dopey smile, he knew he could call him at any point in the day, rain, sleet, snow or shine and his friend would attempt to help him fly like he was born on a broomstick . . . or drag his butt to the Hospital wing if it all went to Hell.

"T-thanks Richard!"