Chapter Text
I think I'll take my whiskey neat
My coffee black and my bed at three
You're too sweet for me
“Is that Firewhiskey I smell?” She says with a flirtatious smile. “Were you coming from Hogsmeade?”
“I was.”
“And are you calling it a night so soon?”
I have been with Samantha plenty of times. Enough to know that if I keep caving into her attempts to sleep together, she is going to get the wrong impression. But my thoughts are too scrambled at the moment to say no.
“I have Quidditch practice tomorrow morning.” I said, slipping my hands into the pockets of my pants. Polite but uninterested. “Just trying to behave.”
“Isn’t that a first…” She leans towards me to whisper with playfulness and I would lie if I say it didn’t make me snort. “Would you like to walk with me to my common room?”
She smells nice. And she is also wearing a shirt with a low cut that she makes sure to dangle in front of me like it’s going to convince me to do what she says. Her breasts look quite large from this angle.
Maybe whatever she’s doing is working after all.
“Walk all the way to the Ravenclaw tower?” I engage in the banter, realizing that perhaps some company would do me good. “It’s rather far but I could be persuaded.”
Samantha giggles.
“At least it is not as far from here as the Gryffindor tower.”
What a dreadful thing to say to me, out of all people. The smirk on my face doesn’t falter, but if she looks closer, she might be able to appreciate the tension of my body. Samantha doesn’t look closer, though. She is looking exactly into what I’m offering her. Which is no vacillation when I nod towards the stairs with my head, slow and intentional.
“Lead the way, then. I’ll be right behind you.”
She practically licks her lips in advance, starting the stroll. There are two reasons why I prefer to walk behind women.
The first one and most important is the views. They are always better and tend to put me in a brilliant mood. The second one is just that girls in this bloody school are sometimes inclined to hold my hand and the gesture makes me uneasy. I love sex, but somehow lacing fingers feels too intimate for me. Both Anne and Ominis never get tired of reminding me of how ludicrous that is.
I follow after Samantha, taking special attention to the curves of her bottom half, accentuated by the skirt she is wearing. I’m immediately reminded of our last encounter together and how eager she was to please me. Those thoughts work in my favor, because my body starts to warm up imagining how good it would feel to sink myself inside her.
The alcohol I consumed definitely helps. And it’s also the alcohol that encourages me to become a simpering fool when I grab Samantha’s arm and tug her against the wall. In between the dimmed torches, we are in the refuge of darker shadows.
“I was with someone else at Hogsmeade.” I murmur, leaning her on the stone before I’m the one leaning onto her. “Is that something that bothers you?”
I’m giving her an opportunity to get out of this. To walk away if she doesn’t want it. But I can tell that’s not the case. Samantha offers an indolent smile.
“Oh, Sebastian…” With feigned timidity, her fingers stroke the collar of my shirt. “When are you going to settle down with a nice girl?”
Something prickles at me, but I dismiss it. Again, my smirk doesn’t waver.
I’m too good at this. My palm reaches around her jaw, cupping her soft but firm enough that I can keep her head still while I approach my lips to her ear.
“You aren’t suggesting that girl is you, are you?” Her body trembles and I feed into it. Into the reactions I provoke in her. “Because we both know you are not nice.”
“I could be.” Samantha manages to reply but someone else’s face flashes in my head. I push it aside, focusing on the girl I have between me and the wall. “We’ll get detention.”
She prompts out, but her tone doesn’t suggest she wants me to stop. Samantha knows the consequences of getting caught, but a reprimand must be such a small sacrifice if she gets me right here, right now. Which should work for my idiotic plan. That desperate hope I have gnawing deep in my chest of a professor walking by and catching us. Catching me.
Giving me detention. If only for a chance to spend those hours with someone else.
All of it for a possibility. A slight chance. Perhaps odds could be in my favor if I charm my way into library duty, because that’s where she normally is. Merlin, I’m so bloody sick of this and sick of her.
I kiss Samantha, unloading a little bit of fury into it that she eats up with a moan. It helps me focus on her and her warm body and tender flesh. The contact doesn’t last very long before I’m dipping my mouth on her neck, just where I know she loves. Shamelessly, she rubs on me, stirring deeper the flames of my desire. I never planned to be so reckless but alas, Samantha looks like she would be fine kneeling in front of me and unbuckling my pants in the middle of this halfway.
Merlin have mercy.
I have to cover her mouth with my hand when she becomes louder and this insane plan of mine starts to sound like fool work. But then she rubs against my cock once more and I stop thinking at all. My arm moves until quick fingers vanish below her skirt and I tease the inner thigh with small circles. The warm weather that has slammed at us for the past few days doesn’t hold a candle to the one that radiates from Samantha’s core.
“Is this worth getting detention over?” I purr in her ear and I hear a suffocated chuckle coming from her mouth. “Or should I go further?”
She pants when I pair the words with a brush of my tongue near the sensitive area of her throat. My fingers are almost touching her underwear when I hear something. Feel something.
Steps, I believe. But my confused brain is still focused on the wrong thing. I know I heard right when Samantha pats at my back, pulling me away from the moment. Just when I was starting to enjoy it.
She is a little disheveled; wrinkled skirt and mouth bruised after our kiss, and she looks over my shoulder to someone with an expression that doesn’t fit with the salacious words she whispered to me before.
Talk about a master manipulator.
“Everleigh, we…”
I stop bloody listening for a moment when Samantha speaks that name. Out of all my prospects, this was the one I hope and dread for the most. I should’ve known it was her when I felt the barbs around my chest. My body reacting, no doubt, at her proximity.
That damn woman had fucking infested my bloodstream like poison.
Putting on my best artificial smile, I turn around to face the object of all my nightmares. It almost hurts how pretty she is and I’m reminded each time with a slap to the face. She is wearing the school uniform and the Head Girl pin sits on the left side of her vest like armor. Her hair, for once, falls in waves down her back; although I noticed she has pinned several strands out of her face. Green eyes peruse over me with displeasure, only for a moment, before Everleigh returns her attention to Samantha.
“It’s best if you make it to the Ravenclaw tower before a professor comes this way.”
She is not going to give her detention. Of course not. She must think Samantha was under my influence and I lured her into such an indecent position. If only the walls of this castle spoke.
Samantha is now looking at me so I just respond with a soft nod of acknowledgement before she is dashing down the corridor. Leaving me alone there, a little drunk, aroused and with the worst possible person I should be talking to.
“If you are going to be this careless, make sure to be aware of your surroundings.”
Everleigh says, lifting her chin to meet my gaze. I contemplate the chance to tell her I am exactly where I need to be in order to get caught, but that would require lots of explanations and confessing feelings she is not prepared to hear from me. So instead, I go the subtle route.
“Who said I wasn’t?”
I can tell her irritation is growing because lines crease her forehead. I’m always able to draw such intense reactions out of her and half of me fantasizes about the fact that it’s because she cares. I see the way she leans in towards me.
We are, by no means, close to each other. She stands a solid five feet away, but she might as well have touched me because I feel a squeeze in my chest when I notice that movement. My hand twitches involuntarily, as if it wants to extend towards her. I hide them both in the pocket of my pants.
“Are you drunk?” She asks and I haven’t got it in me to answer with anything else than a shrug. This tests her patience. “Well, seeing as you appear to not want to talk, maybe you should meet me in the library tomorrow evening. Where we can catalog books in complete silence. That task should interest you.”
If only she knew. If only she was aware of the ridiculous things I have done throughout the years just to end up in detention. My face remains carefully blank while blood roars in my ears.
Everleigh is already turning around to walk away, and I should just let her. I’m going to enjoy the pleasure of her company for several hours tomorrow, after all. But I just cannot.
“If you wanted to spend time alone together, you should’ve just asked. But what would your boyfriend say about it?”
The little jab is meant to both stop her and get a sense of the state of her relationship with that Gryffindor fool. I have seen Noel around in Hogsmeade a few times, drinking at The Three Broomsticks without Everleigh. Surely she stays behind because she wants to, but seeing as the group was mostly just boys, I have a feeling he doesn’t extend an invitation to her often.
“Oh, please.” Everleigh winces in response to my question, her nose scrunching in a way that looks too cute not to chuckle at. “As if.”
She leaves after that. Without sparing me another look. And what do I do?
I follow.
When I first met Everleigh Grayson, I think I knew, deep in my soul, that this was it. I always considered her too good for anybody here, especially for me. That hasn’t stopped from being attracted to her like a magnet for three bloody years while she hasn’t even looked twice in my direction. There were times, the first few years, when I tried to convince myself that I hated her, just to dial down my infatuation for her. But it didn’t work. I’ve made peace with my feelings since then, sometimes resigned for this to be an unrequited love; other days I wake up and just want to play dirty and snatch her from Noel.
I haven’t done it, not because I care about what he feels, but because being with him seems to be what she wants.
Everleigh and I make it to the changing stairs on time. She is several steps above me, but still turns around when she hears me. I offer her a smirk.
“I’m just walking you to your common room, darling.”
“And can you walk?”
She must be suggesting that the alcohol has impaired my ability to stand on two feet. Valid, but irrelevant; I’d crawl if needed.
My tongue slides across my bottom lip and I decide to get closer to her, now that she is aware that I’m there. I only come to a halt a step beneath her, near enough that I could touch her if I just lift my fingers.
But of course I don’t touch her.
Instead, I close my eyes for a moment and inhale. I’m received with the sweet notes of her perfume. We had learnt to brew Amortentia earlier in the year, in Potions class. Some students didn’t manage to produce a good batch, but the ones that did were eager to share what their Draught smelled like.
Not me, thought.
I didn’t tell anyone what mine reminded me of.
But I am breathing that scent right here, right now. And it is glorious.
“What’s the rush?”
I let out in a low voice when I see her tapping her fingers on the railing with impatience. Her unbound hair is practically calling me to twirl strands around my fingers. I wonder what would happen if I do.
“I have plans.”
“With your little boyfriend?” With that twat, I mean. Merlin, I hate the guy. “How long have you two been together? Two, three months strong?”
I hear her exhale with exasperation.
“Six months.”
Six months, five days, eleven hours.
I remember exactly when it happened because I was finally going to pull the head out of my arse and do something about it that same night, out of all nights. I was tired of pining for her so that night was the perfect moment, after the Quidditch game. Everyone was down at the Hufflepuff common room celebrating. The plan was simple.
I was going to show her what I had shown every other girl in school but her. I was going to be charming and polite and then ask her out. I knew she was probably going to think I was playing a game, but Merlin helped me, I was not going to back off until Everleigh was very aware that it was not.
Phelan Noel got ahead of me, for once. By the time I had reached the couches she was at, he was already leaning in to kiss her.
“Six months.” I repeat after her, faking shock. “That’s a long time.”
“I’m sure for you it must feel that way.”
A fucking eternity.
“Aren’t you bored of him?” The words abandon me almost by accident but I don’t care. I want more reactions out of her. “He is so… uninteresting.” And with the personality of a flytrap, but I don’t want to test my luck so I don’t share that.
“Is there a reason why you are bothering me right now?” Everleigh practically snarls and I can’t help but smile at the back of her beautiful hair. The urge to stroke it is very untoward.
“I’m just trying to give you a compliment. You could do so much better than him.”
I’m playing a dangerous game here, but I decide on that moment that I don’t care. I want her, and I’m going to do and say just about anything to get her. But with Everleigh I have to move slowly, otherwise she is going to think this is only the product of spite or boredom. And I don’t want her believing she is just one more number to the count.
“I happen to like Phelan.”
I don’t see her face but I sound the inflections in her voice like a wolf hunting for prey. Searching for any cracks I can slide through.
“But do you love him?”
Say no.
Say no.
Say no.
She doesn’t say anything. Which is even better. I let my gaze flicker around her back, noticing the way that she seems to have stopped breathing. With a pounding heart, I wait until she turns. Her expression seems too infuriated for such a simple question.
I stare back at her through narrow eyes. Only when it’s clear she won’t answer, I speak again.
Taunting. Hopeful.
“Was that a complicated question?”
“Prying doesn’t suit you.”
“Deflecting, aren’t we?”
She looks away for a moment and I appreciate her side profile, stealing a glance at her full mouth while I’m at it. I make sure I’m not looking at it when Everleigh returns her attention back to me.
“I don’t have to explain myself to you. But since you are so eager to know… Phelan is fantastic and perfect for me in every way that counts.”
Oh, she is a comedian. I should be jealous of that statement, but the laugh I let out comes out almost involuntarily.
“Please, Grayson…” I respond with a cheerful tone, almost twisting my face into a grimace of repulsion at such insinuation. “The boy looks like he has no idea what to do with you.”
He truly does not. I refuse to believe otherwise.
“And you would?”
That question drains me from any humor in a matter of seconds. A thousand scenarios cross my mind, all of them helped by the Firewhiskey. A thousand of them filthier than the last. I admire the fluster that covers her cheeks because she knows exactly what is happening right now. And she was the one that got us there.
If I was a better man, I would probably let it go.
But I’m not.
“Would you like to find out?”
She could say the word right this moment and I think I would spend the entire night holding her hands while I make her delirious. The lack of an immediate answer and the way her eyes widen almost make me believe she is going to say yes. Or at the very least, she is thinking about it.
That’s all I need for the moment.
“You are revolting.” Everleigh says in a hushed tone.
The smirk on my face grows.
“I’ve been called worse. By you.”
In fifth year, she told me I was the reason Mandrakes cried when I got her hair dirty with mud. She made me laugh then and she still makes me laugh now.
“Surely deserving.” There’s a petulance in her voice that draws a soft smile out of me. She takes a step back, gazing down at my mouth so fast I almost missed it. But I don’t, and my stomach does that funny thing that makes me almost nauseous. “Do I amuse you?”
“Vastly.”
I whisper my confession, but I think she takes it the wrong way. She normally does, and I don’t think I can really blame her.
Everleigh walks away from me and this time I let her, watching her golden hair bouncing around. Making me smile more.
For the first time ever, a part of me believes there might yet to be a chance in between us. She seems very unsure of her relationship, to the point that she didn’t even attempt to lie just to dodge my provocations.
I’m going to have to get a grip and be on my best behavior, because there is not a chance I’ll be leaving that library without her knowing that we are a possibility.
“Goodnight, Grayson.” I speak louder, right as the portrait of the Gryffindor common room opens in front of her. “I will see you tomorrow for our date.”
I cannot wait.