"All I wished for was to not be a Slytherin. Pure blood supremacy was woven into the material of those jade coloured ties and I would rather strangle myself with one than wear it."
After returning from her time spent on the run, Lyra, unruly, sarcas...
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"There, there" Willow hushed, rubbing my back as my head was practically in the toilet bowl.
She handed me a glass of water that I took gratefully while Ophelia tied my messy curls behind my head, to keep them from getting anymore vomit in them than they already did.
The consequences of last nights activities came spewing out of my mouth once more, as I coughed up into the bowl, spitting out the revolting taste of sour whiskey and vile.
I leaned my heavy head on onto my arm, resisting on the edge of the toilet, as the memories of last nights events swirled around in my head.
Among the dancing, shots and rash kiss on the dance floor, I was reminded of my moment with Malfoy. How the way he touched Pansy was like a match, striking the flame of envy inside me, how his hands touched her waist and held her frame made some numb feeling engulf the entirety of my stomach.
The way his hot breath brushed my face was tempting.
He was tempting.
How his silver rings sizzled the skin on my neck and my breath hitched at his husky, solemn words.
Breathless.
That is how I felt that night in the corridor.
And in that moment, when it was just the two of us in the cold corridor, all I wanted was his warmth.
His touch.
And as the blondes sharp, blue spheres connected with my eyes, My spinning, drunken view was steadied. Every detail around me was blurred, but his face. Every line and scar on his pure complexion was clear. Shown to me, as his eyes bore into mine with anger and something more.
But, The way my thumb delicately brushed his soft lips and my heart rate rose into overdrive, would never happen again.
It couldn't.
I don't know what that emotion I felt was, or how the butterflies in my stomach even got there in the first place, but they would never flutter inside me again. Not while he's around.
Rubbing my thumping head, I made that promise to myself.
And I couldn't help but laugh.
What the fuck is wrong with you Lyra, he's a git and he's horrible and you've convinced yourself there was something there. But you were drunk and he was angry and that's all there was to it.
•••
As I took my seat next to Taurus at the Slytherin table, whispers and hushed tones erupted from a handful of green tied students up and down the hall.
"You look rough as fuck" the dirty blonde stated and began to raise his eyebrows concerningly when he saw my matted and sick-tangled hair, which I had thrown up into a bun as I did no energy to shower before breakfast.
