Oliver Wood is stubborn, confident, and brave... or at least that's the façade he wishes to show. Lying is easy for Oliver, but living is harder when a white-haired girl crashes into him by chance. It's too bad she's the younger sister of his quiddi...
This chapter is full of some of the imagines yall requested, so if you see something that looks familiar to what you asked for, that's why. Xoxo
This chapter is 4000 words the FUCK.
SNAPSHOTS
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"Shit" Lara whimpered, eyes straining as they tried to adhere to the bright light.
She cleared her throat, licking her chapped lips as she pushed herself up in her bed.
Except... she couldn't.
She huffed as she was dragged back down into the mattress, an arm weighing down her waist.
First, she was confused by the arm, her half asleep state of mind clouding her judgment. But when her tired, blue eyes made a path up the arm, across the shoulder, and then finally reaching the face, she sighed in relief.
It was only Oliver.
She pushed her head back into the red pillow they shared, smiling lightly and closing her eyes again, in perfect content.
Her thoughts rummaged through the events of last night; how they had told everyone of them getting back together, how she got drunk, how Yasmin was now apparently dating her big brother.
It was a messy night, that was certain. And it was proved by the killer headache that was growing in Lara's senses.
She whimpered as the headache manifested, the more she grew consciousness. Her stomach aching from an absence of food, and a significant amount of alcohol. In all honesty, she felt shit. She needed food, and water, and medicine all at the same time.
"Oliver" she whispered, turning her head to look at him, their noses only centimetres apart
He remained still, half of his face buried into the fluffy pillow. His hair was flattened onto his forehead, whilst his eyebrows were fully relaxed. Lara felt her lips tilted into a smile at that, her hangover momentarily dissipating. For she couldn't remember the last time she saw him so... so peaceful.
Even when they would kiss, and he would hold her tight, there would always be a creased line between his brows, as if he were worried.
As though he were afraid that, if he were to let go of her, she would disappear into thin air. Almost like he was constantly paranoid that he was dreaming, and that Lara never came back to Hogwarts, that Lara never loved him.
He got her back two days ago, so he was now thinking that maybe this wasn't all a dream...
And of course, it wasn't a dream, since there the ravenclaw was, basking in his touch and admiring every single one of his features.
