Chapter 5 : Quidditch Heat and Moments of Weakness'
| ||Rating: Mature||Chapter Reviews: 17|
Background: Font color:
Desmond was a fucking imbecile.
I could literally smack my face with my palm a thousand times over out of the colossal amount of stupidity steaming from his head. In less than five minutes, we caught Dominique snogging a random bloke that we have never seen before, AND Desmond managed to get Tyler to fall in love with Dom. This shit only ever happens in Hogwarts, ladies and gents.
I don’t know about him, but I heard Layla urge him to stop the fight. I did not hear her tell him to shoot Tyler with one of his arrows.
This is the second time he’s done something so utterly ridiculous.
When he hears the words ‘Do something!’, does it automatically translate to, ‘Desmond, shoot he/she with an arrow!’?
“What the hell, Desmond!” Layla exclaimed, staring at the love-stricken facial expression that had just crawled onto Tyler’s face in a matter of seconds. She slapped Desmond’s arm, which was a completely futile attempt to punish him. “I said do something, not shoot Tyler with an arrow!”
“Mate, what the hell.” Potter muttered, staring at Tyler. “That’s my baby cousin!”
Out of all the fuss that was going on, I almost forgot that Potter—with his ruggedly handsome good looks, and not to mention, practically naked upper body—was standing right behind me.
“Christ, Des… what the fuck.” Dom followed as she clutched James’ shirt closer to her body.
A pained groan brought my attention away from the matter at hand. I then realized that the boy in question was still lying on the ground, bruised and bloody. His nose was broken, his eye was black and there was blood gushing from his nostrils, his lips and from the corner of his mouth. “What’s going on?” he murmured, clutching his broken nose. “What’s all this talk about an arrow?”
Oh my Merlin, I forgot he was still here.
“Way to go, guys.” Desmond said exasperatedly.
“Don’t even start with me.” Layla snapped, swiveling around to face him. “This is your fault to begin with.”
“Damage control!” Potter exclaimed.
“James, shouting out ‘damage control’ isn’t exactly doing damage control.” Dominique informed him.
Ugh, these dunder-heads.
“Er…” I began awkwardly, trying to think of some elaborate, plausible lie. C’mon brain, don’t fail on me now. “Er.. a giant troll just stopped by and shot Tyler with an arrow… and it ran away… really fast… back to it’s hiding place… in the dungeon… cause you know… trolls are really stupid… yeah…”
Both Desmond and James turned to me with strange, dumbfounded looks. “Seriously, Vick?”
I held my finger up quickly, motioning for the idiots to shut up. “Wait for it.” I whispered.
“Oh, that’s er.. I heard there was a troll living in the castle, but I was told that it barely ever came out.” He shrugged, and picked himself up off the floor.
Either he was really stupid, or Tyler did a really good job at punching his brains out.
Since when was there a troll living in the castle? The last live troll was sent back into the forest back when the Golden Trio was still in Hogwarts
Layla and I immediately shared a look. Our telepathic best friend abilities are screaming ‘IS THIS KID STUPID, OR WHAT?’.
“How she always manages to do this… I will never know.” Des said, his tone harboring utter amazement.
“So.. well.. you better get back to your common room. I’m sorry, on behalf of Tyler.” Dom said, sighing, finally realizing that fighting against these three boys were a lost cause. See, this is how it worked: if they are on your side, then that’s just bloody great for you. But if they’re against you—with all the good intentions in the world of course—then it’s either you struggle and sink faster, or you give up and let them take the reigns.
I learned this the hard way, unfortunately.
“Yeah, I guess I should.” The still-unnamed boy breathed in a rather fazed way. “I’ll see you around Dom.”
She gave him a simple, but adequate for the situation, head-nod, before turning back to us. She was pissed.
“Thanks guys.” She sneered, her face contorted with a scowl. “I really appreciate it.”
“Don’t even start with me, Dom.” Potter snapped viciously. “What the hell do you think you’re doing snogging random blokes in deserted corridors like these? What if he tried to rape you? Merlin, Dominique, do you ever stop and think about the situations you get yourself in?” It was one of the very rare times I’ve ever seen Potter so… worried.
After years of hanging around this pig-headed prat, I guess—and mind you, I will never admit this out loud—I’ve come to learn that he really wasn’t a pig-headed prat. Don’t get me wrong, there are times when he was a lot more than some boorish, insolent, toe-rag, but there were times when he was a real human being. His family—not matter how much he says he hates them, and finds them incredibly annoying—brings out the best in him. When you meet a guy like that—when you meet a guy like Potter, who’s cold and a complete asshole on the outside, but who’s got a heart of a care-bear inside, you just can’t help but fall completely, and utterly in love with him.
Oh my Merlin what the bloody hell am I saying?! STOP TALKING BRAIN, STOP TALKING.
All of a sudden, all eyes were on me… Oh, did I say that out loud? Whoops.
“Are you okay?” Desmond asked, as if I was some mentally ill patient going bonkers. His hands were perched on my shoulders, and he bent down to level with my eyes.
I glared at him and shoved his hands away. It was all his fault anyway. It was his fault that I was in love with Potter. Fuck, I think I’m going mad. “I’m fine.” I snapped in response.
Desmond recoiled and gave me a strange look. “What’s gotten into you?”
There was really no way of yelling at Desmond without uncovering the truth behind my outburst… I certainly did not want Potter, of all people, to know that I grew crazy at the mere thought of him. His head would grow even larger than it already is.
So I simply continued glaring, harnessing every ounce of hatred in my body through the depths of my eyes.
Yes, Desmond, burn under my fucking glare.
“Don’t… look at me like that..” he said, wincing slightly and looking away. “Merlin, you’re scary sometimes.” He muttered under his breath.
“And you’re a moron.” I spat. “What the hell compelled you to shoot Tyler with an arrow?”
His eyes rolled. “Trust me, I’d be doing those two a favor by shooting Ty.”
Did he really just insinuated that Dominique and Tyler are meant to be together? Hell had just frozen over. Holy Merlin.
“What?” Dom demanded while she attempted to pry a very clingy Tyler off her body.
“Des, what did we say about exposing futuristic crap in front of my family?” Potter, who was still clad in a rather thin beater, spoke. “They’ll just get all nosy. Now you won’t be able to get her off your back.” He clapped a hand to Desmond’s shoulder. “I wish you the best of luck, mate.”
Merlin he was sexy.
“What did you say?” Dominique repeated in the same demanding tone, completely ignoring Potter’s statement. “Des, you better bloody repeat what you had just said.”
“Haha…” he laughed nervously. “Well… I think we’ve been out here for way too long.” he said as he attempted to nonchalantly scan the corridor. “I’m pretty sure I hear someone coming. We better get back to the common room before we get caught!” he then proceeded to turn around and walk down the corridor, and most likely back to the common room.
Dominique, who didn’t buy a single pinch of his lies, ran after him and began demanding answers, which he proceeded to ignore. “Don’t you ignore me, Desmond!”
The two then successfully left Tyler, Layla, Potter and I standing alone—looking rather stupid, might I add—in an empty corridor, staring after them.
“I think we should go too.” Layla said, breaking the silence.
Potter sighed hopelessly. He gripped Tyler by the shoulders, and took a good look at his face. “Mate,” he said.
I almost laughed.
Layla giggled beside me.
“You alright?” Potter questioned as he examined Tyler’s face. “He didn’t get a punch in, did he?”
Tyler ignored him. “James.” He whispered with wide eyes. By the look of his expression, I was suddenly fearful that he was about to utter something grave; something frightening. Layla and I both took a step closer, circling around the two boys. He was silent for a good while. He simply blinked several times and his eyes moved over me, to James, to Layla and then back. And then, finally, after what seemed like the longest time ever, he spoke. “Mate, I think I’m in love.”
Holy mother of Merlin’s sweaty balls. It was hot. I didn’t just mean hot. I meant, sticky, humid, clothes-sticking-to-my-body hot.
The season has just began, which meant fall should be right around the corner. It should be moderately cool outside, no? But this afternoon, it was bloody burning. The sun was at its peak. Having a free period before and after lunch was never really a good thing. It only gave Potter an excuse to hold extra practice during the day, despite the weather.
I actually envy those who have afternoon classes. At least they won’t have to deal with excessive Quidditch practices in scorching weather.
Due to the heat, and because I didn’t want a weird tan, I shed my equipment off, leaving only a white tank top and black shorts. If McGonagall saw me hovering a hundred feet off the ground, wearing nothing but a tank top and shorts, she’d kick my arse off the team and send me straight to detention.
At this point, no one really seemed to care what the rules were. Potter and Desmond had been flying around shirtless for the past thirty minutes, and Layla had removed her upper gear, but left her slacks on.
I was currently hovering by the hoops, lounging on my broomstick. I was practically sprawled across the thin stick, too hot to move a muscle. I watched Potter and Desmond flying back and forth across the pitch, their body glistening with sweat. Fred and Tyler was excused for class, and Peter called in sick.
If you ask me, the little bugger probably couldn’t handle the heat.
I wouldn’t blame him. If only I had known that it was going to be a fucking oven outside, I would have made some excuse concerning—er—female problems, just to stay in my nice, cool dorm room.
I could feel beads of sweat swarming together on the surface of my skin. It dripped down my chest, and through my cleavage. This was not a comfortable feeling. Not a comfortable feeling at all.
I dragged my hand across my chest and wiped the sweat off before I lifted my slightly damp hair off my back, tying it into a loose, messy bun on the top of my head.
Holy shit it was hot.
“Oi!” I picked my head up slightly, and saw Potter, along with a bludger, speeding towards me. “Duck!”
I squealed loudly, and quickly dropped into a dive, in hopes to avoid the bludger. Once I was settled on the other side of the pitch, safe from any bludgers, I slumped against my broom once more. The heat was excruciatingly painful. I wanted to crawl into a cold shower and sit there for the rest of the day.
“Rose!” I heard Potter call.
“What?” I snapped irritably. Clearly, I was not in the mood to deal with Potter.
Even if he was shirtless and sexy.
“It’s still practice! So get over there and practice!” He extended his arm, pointing to the middle of the pitch, and I watched the muscles of his arm ripple beneath his skin. “And at least keep some of your gear on.” Potter sneered as his eyes traveled over the length of the visible parts of my body. “You of all people shouldn’t be playing without any protection.”
I growled. “Kiss my ass, Potter.” I barked angrily. “It feels like it’s a hundred degrees outside and you have us out here baking under the bloody sun.”
He rolled his eyes with great exasperation. “It’s hardly a hundred degrees. Stop being so over dramatic, Rose. Now get your arse over there before I kick you off the team.”
I scoffed. “Like you would kick me off the team when Gryffindor has a game right around the corner.”
“Don’t test me, Rose.” Potter said, warningly. “You’re lucky that I don’t force you to do laps right now.”
I knew better than to get myself into another row with Potter, but I couldn’t help myself. the heat was getting to me, and I felt like I was sweating a river.
“Fuck you, Potter. I’m leaving.” With one last malicious look, I flew down to the ground, and hopped off my broom. I was angry, and desperately in need of a shower. I would probably end up skipping my next class so I can drown myself in cold water.
I could hear Potter calling after me, but I ignored him. The locker rooms drew closer and closer with every step, and I was practically itching to get out of my sweaty clothes. I was surprised at how easy it was to shove aside my ‘feelings’ for Potter when I was angry. It felt good to be myself for once.
There it is… The gates of Heaven. The doors of the locker room were in my reach… just a little more and I can jump into a cold shower, and forget this horrid day.
I reached for the knob, but I never felt it. I was suddenly facing Potter, in all his half-naked glory.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he demanded, his eyes blazing with anger.
I glared back at him, channeling every ounce of my rage through that one glare. “You’re crazy if you think that I’m going to continue practicing in this heat.” I snapped. “I’m going to go into the locker rooms, to take a nice, cold shower, and to get away from you, Captain Arsehole.”
“You’re not going in there.” Potter said, gripping my arm tightly, and pulling me back towards the Pitch.
“Oh yes I am.” I countered, pulling back towards the showers.
Now, I know I was being a bit silly if I thought that I could win Potter in a battle of strength, but it was hot, and my pride would not allow me to succumb to his orders. He was a bloody Quidditch Nazi, and I was getting tired of it.
“Yes, you are.” He said through gritted teeth, pulling me further and further away from the blessed home of the shower. “I’m the captain, Victoria, and you have to do what I say.”
“Captains can be overthrown if they act like incompetent dictators!” I retorted in crescendo.
He chuckled, clearly amused as I struggled against him. “That’s not how Quidditch works, silly Vicky.”
His grip tightened on my arm, and he tugged softly. I stumbled forward, thanks to my clumsy legs, and straight into his hard chest. “Now am I going to have to force you to get back on your broomstick and practice, or will you obey like a good little girl?” He asked condescendingly as his lips turned into a smug smirk.
My eyes narrowed into slits, and I drew my arm back to punch him, but his reflexes outdid my own. He other hand caught my wrist, and held it tightly in front of his chest. “Now, now. There’s no need for that.”
“Go to hell.” I spat.
“C’mon Vicky, play nice, will you?” He knew he was irritating me. He was enjoying being a smug arsehole—enjoying every bit of it.
As I tried to free my arms from his grasp, I realized how close our bodies were. He was holding my arms close to his chest, and I was unfortunately, rather attatched to my arms. My heart suddenly sped up in less than a second, and all rational though washed away. All I could seem to think about was the proximity of our bodies. I felt heat rush to my cheeks, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the temperature of the pitch.
I suddenly stopped struggling against him, and instead, I lifted my gaze, and realized that not only our bodies were dangerously close together, but our faces as well. His lips, perfectly curved and defined, immediately came into my view, and against my better judgment, my heart immediately sped up. I lifted my eyes further up his face, and noticed that he was looking at me too. Potter’s smirk was fading, and his eyes suddenly grew intense. I could feel his chest heaving under my arms, which I completely forgot was still attatched to my body.
Time seemed to slow as I stood under his gaze. Both Layla and Desmond, who were probably watching us at this very moment, disappeared from my mind, along with the entire world. All I could seem to focus on, was Potter. My gaze shifted back to his lips, and I realized I wanted to kiss him. Merlin, I wanted to kiss him so badly.
His arms slowly eased their hold on my arms, allowing me to further relax against his body. His eyes were still settled on my face, causing me to feel small and miniscule.
A low, sexy groan rumbled through his throat, sending shivers down my back despite the heat. His hands released my arms, and he took a step back, immediately running his hands through his damp hair. He looked frustrated. Another groan came from the base of his throat. This time, it was louder.
I awkwardly stood before him, rooted at the spot with my arms dangling by my sides. I wasn’t sure what to do after he had released me. We had just been seconds away from snogging in the middle of the bloody Quidditch pitch, am I just supposed to walk away?
Potter turned around, giving me an amazing view of his back. Unfortunately—not that it was entire unfortunate, truth be told—I was too busy ogling Potter’s body to notice that he was rapidly advancing towards me. His hands took hold of my face, cradling it roughly as he planted his lips right on top of mine.
My eyes widened, and my brain went into panic mode. The arrow and my own mind was fighting a battle that was too much or me to handle. My feelings soon became a tangled mess, and I was no longer able to sort out anything in my own head. I then came to the conclusion that the only thing I would be able to focus on at this proximity is Potter, his gorgeous body, and his lips, which were currently moving against mine flawlessly. Eventually, I came alive against my own rational will, and began responding in a vigorous manner that I was unfamiliar with. My arms, which seemed to have a mind of its own, flew to his chest. I scraped my nails along the contours of his skin, loving the feeling of his muscle’s rippling beneath my hands. His hands left my face and moved down to my waist, squeezing and feeling every inch of my body.
His lips were soft and full. They felt undeniably perfect against my own. As he flushed my body against his as close as humanly possible, he kissed me urgently; passionately, and it was sending me over the edge.
I was kissing James Potter.
And I was loving every second of it.
All too soon, Potter pulled away. He was breathing heavily, and so was I. I watched, with swollen, parted lips, as Potter’s lips curved into a smirk. “Get your arse back on your broom.” And then he released me.
At this point, I was absolutely speechless.
Potter had just snogged me senseless. Literally. And now, he expects me to get my arse back on my broom and practice obediently? Was he fucking insane?
While Potter kicked off the ground, and returned back into the air, my legs began moving on its own accord, despite the thoughts that ran through my brain at that very moment. I picked up my broomstick, and returned to my station by the hoops, successfully binning the rest of the pride I had left.
“Would you care to explain to me what the hell that little episode was about?” I knew this was coming. From the second I finally managed to bring myself back down to earth after that heated—and I do mean heated in the most literal way possible—snog, I knew Desmond would be demanding an explanation.
The only problem: I had none to give.
I could blame it on the severe heat, which usually messed with both my hormones and brain. I could blame it on the fact that she was on a bloody broomstick wearing nothing but a tank-top and shorts that barely covered her arse. Or, I could blame it on her little show with her chest and her neck.
Fuck, it was hot, and I was going a little mad. Sue me if I get a bit turned on by a practically half naked girl, on a broomstick, touching herself.
We skived the rest of our afternoon classes, feeling too worn out to move through the rest of the day. Our afternoon practice was brutal, only because of the blistering heat.
I hate to admit it, but Victoria was right. It was insane to practice in that condition, but I couldn’t exactly admit that. Not in front of her at least.
After taking one of the longest, coldest showers of my life, Des and I decided to find Tyler and start on the mountain of homework we had piled up in our dorm.
“Er, would you care to elaborate?” I asked, stalling my answer to try to pump out an excuse that would save my arse.
Desmond rolled his eyes exasperatedly. “Don’t even try to work your way out of this one, mate. If you have already forgotten, I practically invented evasive language. Now cut the crap, and tell me what that was out there.”
I sighed. “Honestly, mate, I haven’t got a clue.” I ran my hands through my wet hair as I tried to find sufficient words to explain I kissed his best friend. “One minute I was yelling at her, trying to get her to stop being so bloody stubborn, and then the next, we were just…”
“Snogging each other’s brains out?” Desmond finished. “Yeah, I figured that much.”
“I don’t know what happened!” I exclaimed in all honesty, recalling the kiss. “You know I can’t stand her. It was just… a moment of weakness.”
“A moment of weakness?” he repeated, clearly not believing a word I said. “James, people who are on diets can have moments of weakness when their favorite chocolate cake is sitting right in front of them. Smokers can have moments of weakness once they caught the smell of smoke from someone else. You, on the other hand, can’t call it a ‘moment of weakness’ if you’ve hated her for six years.”
“Alright fine.” I snapped. “It was the heat.” I said, finding another excuse. “The bloody heat just got to me, and I don’t know.. she was just standing right there.” As I realized the words I was saying, I let out a cry of frustration. “C’mon Des, you can’t honestly tell me that you’ve never been attracted to her. She was practically wearing nothing. How did you expect me to react to that?”
He rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. This was not a laughing matter. Well.. at least now I can be assured that he won’t be pounding my face in. “You know I don’t see her like that.”
“Oh please.” I scoffed. “You’d have to be mad to have gone six years without being attracted to her at least once.”
“Are my ears deceiving me, or are you actually calling Vicky attractive? Christ Almighty, I never thought I’d see the day.”
I punched his shoulder. “Don’t push it, Cupid.” I growled. “I want nothing more than to be free of her.”
“Last I checked, James, you aren’t tied to her in any way.” He informed her. “She’s just in love with you.”
I looked at him. I didn’t know what to say. He was right. I wasn’t tied to Victoria in any way. I was free to do whatever I wished. I was free to snog that Ravenclaw prefect standing about five feet from me. I was free to fuck the entire female population of Hogwarts if I wanted. So why did I feel attatched to this girl?
We walked up a flight of stairs and turned the corner, and strode down the corridor. I was silent the entire time, sorting through my head, and trying to find a plausible explanation to his question. Desmond laughed, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“You know what I think?” he asked, as he dodged a small first year.
I was wondering why this corridor was so crowded, and then I realized that Transfiguration has just ended. “Enlighten me.” I said.
“You actually care about her.” Desmond said as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. “You feel attatched to Victoria because you don’t want to hurt her feelings.”
I gave him a strange look. “Don’t be ridiculous, Desmond. Where the hell did you get an idea like that?”
He laughed again. “Don’t try to deny it, mate. I can see more than you think. After all these years of fighting with her, you’ve finally come to care about her.”
“Don’t make me laugh.” I scoffed. “I don’t care about Victoria.”
I didn’t. I don’t. I never will. Right?
“Denial is not your strongest point, mate.” He said.
“Shut up, Desmond.” I growled. “I’m not ‘attatched’ to Victoria, and I definitely don’t care about her. I could fuck all those girls over there if I wanted to.”
“Yeah, right.” He rolled his eyes. “We both know you won’t do that. Girls talk all over the castle. Vicky will eventually hear about it, and she’ll be hurt. We both know that you wouldn’t want that to happen.”
“So what if I cared about her anyway?” I asked irritably. “It doesn’t mean I’m going to fall in love with her or anything like that. I can never love a girl like that.”
“Mate, believe it or not, it’s the only way you’re going to pull her out of the spell. My arrows are absolute, unfortunately. It’s either you fall in love with her, or you’re both going to stay in this little situation forever.” He reminded me. “Think about it, James.” He smirked. “You won’t be able to snog, or fuck any girl without feeling guilty.”
I punched Desmond again. “This is all your fault.” I growled.
He simply laughed loudly, causing it to ring throughout the corridor. “You two had it coming for a long time. Always bickering to no end.”
“Hang on.” I stopped in my tracks, suddenly having an epiphany. “Let’s say, for some unfathomable reason, I do fall in love with her.” He nodded, signaling me to continue. “So the spell wears off, and she’s all normal again, right?” Desmond nodded again. “So if that does happen, I’m going to be in love with her, while she’ll continue with her merry life, hating me?”
Desmond nodded with a shrug. “More or less.”
I gave him a dark look. “This is bloody ridiculous.” I turned, and made a move to continue walking down the corridor before Desmond reached out a hand to stop me. “What?”
“I’m only going to warn you once, James.” His tone sounded serious, and once I got a good look at his face, I realized that Desmond’s easy-going attitude had ebbed away, replaced by seriousness. “You’ve been my best friend since first year, but so has Victoria. If you hurt her in any way…”
I rolled my eyes, and shook his hand off my shoulder. “Don’t you think I know that already?” I asked, looking away. “Why do you think I’ve put up with her all these years?”
Once he seemed reassured, we continued on our journey to tracking down Tyler, who was most likely stalking Dominique in some deserted corridor. Love does some crazy shit to people.
I hated Desmond. I believe I say this on a daily basis. In all honesty, I imagine that constantly admitting that you hate your best mate, isn’t exactly a healthy relationship. (You know—friend wise. I am not a poof.) Ever since he shot Vicky with Cupid’s arrow about a week ago, I’ve been hating him with every fiber in my being.
And now, I hate him even more.
The little bugger could go to hell.
And have his wings clipped while he’s at it.
For the last twenty minutes, I’ve been wandering around the castle searching for Victoria. Apparently, he couldn’t leave the common room because he had a potions essay due the next morning along with a History of Magic test that he would most likely fail. Tyler was too busy trying to sneak into Dom’s dorm, and Dominique was too busy getting Layla to help her to try to find a way to get back at Desmond. So, because my life sucked and Merlin hated me, I was stuck searching for Victoria, who apparently went on a food run about an hour and a half ago, but never came back.
I could easily walk back into the common room and have myself a nice, long sleep for the night.
But that would mean that Desmond would murder me in my sleep without finding his precious girl.
Without the map, which Lily managed to lose in the mess that consumed her dorm room, I felt helpless as I wandered around the castle. I’ve already checked the kitchens, and all the likely routes she could have taken back to the common room. Now, I had no idea where I was going, and truth be told, I was getting rather pissed off.
How could a teenage girl get herself into trouble while walking from the common room and to the kitchens? It’s not exactly a difficult task. Perhaps if she had to walk through a swamp and make her way across a giant chessboard, she could be excused. But all she had to do was climb down a few measly stairs, through several corridors, tickle a pear, get her food and come back the way she came from. How could an educated, armed, and very capable seventeen year old girl get into trouble by doing something as easy and as simple as going to the kitchens?
I’ve fought with Victoria several times, and from experience, I can say that she can definitely handle herself against a bunch of Slytherins. Even though I might have been careful not to seriously injure the girl, it was still pretty difficult to get her on her back.
I’ve also fallen into several arguments with her, out of both our stubbornness and the ample amounts of pride that we have. With her quick wit and cunningness, she could have easily argued her way out of a detention with any teacher.
So where the bloody hell was she?
“Hello James.” My heart almost jumped out of my chest. The voice sounded familiar. Almost instantly, Victoria’s faced popped into my mind. I composed myself, preparing my tongue for an all out lashing, and then I turned around, and realized that it wasn’t Victoria.
“Amelie.” I breathed, surprised.
After our break up, I haven’t heard a word from her, and now, all of a sudden, here she is. She looked as gorgeous as ever.
Her lips broke out into a small, sweet smile. “How are you, James?” she asked.
Well, you cheated on me with the Slytherin Quidditch captain, and my best friends’ best friend is currently in love with me. How do you think I am?
“Fine.” I said simply.
She nodded, and looked down as she began fiddling with her hands, something she always did when she was nervous. As my eyes scanned her nervous state, old feelings began rushing back, and I found myself falling for her all over again. I completely forgot all about Victoria, and Desmond, as I became completely engrossed in Amelie.
Finally, she looked up, and I found myself staring into her familiar, soft, brown eyes. “James.” She gave me a small, slightly apprehensive smile. “Merlin, there’s no easy way to say this.” she whispered to herself as she ran one hand through her long, blonde curls. She took a step closer to me, and smiled again. “James, I want you back.”
A/N: HI GUYSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS.
so i know, maybe some of you are like WHAT THEEEEEEEEEEEE THEY KISS ALREADY? i realized it's a bit too soon. it's only the fifth chapter! but if some of you have read my other fics, i don't let anything fall together too quickly (; everything will play out pretty slow, since obviously, these two characters are both very stubborn.
ssssssssssooooooooo. i kinda really love desmond & james. desmond is like the caretaker of them all who always manages to mess things up. and james is this very.. stubborn, hormonal asshole, BUT we all know that he's a big softy inside.
and for any future sexual scenes in any chapter, please remember that you're inside the mind of a 17 year old boy!
anyhoo. tell me what you guys think!
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
Other Similar Stories
The Tale of ...
Hating the F...
Tell Me That...