Cedric grins as he grasps your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. And then he's moving, tapping the barrel that serves as an entrance to the Hufflepuff common room and guiding you through it, towards the warm yellow light and upbeat music that's ringing through your ears.
You step over the threshold, looking up at Cedric, who still has your favorite crooked smile plastered on his face. His grey eyes flick to you, silently asking if you're okay, and despite the thudding of your heart in your ribcage, you nod.
He kisses you again, gently, and you walk into the party, curling into your boyfriend instinctively when you see - and hear - the sheer amount of people crammed into the room.
The party is technically celebrating Cedric, which he insisted against to no avail. He'd caught the snitch three matches in a row, effectively pushing the team all the way up until the last tournament, which is vital in order for Hufflepuff to win the house cup.
And so, despite your doubts, you accompany the boy to his party.
It's exactly the kind of party you were scared of, and rightfully so.
The pounding of the music is making your thoughts knot together like Christmas lights until you can't even decipher what's going on around you, and it's made tenfold worse by the clatter of voices and the ringing of loud laughter that bounce between the walls, surrounding you in a blanket that doesn't allow you to move.
When Cedric pulls you into his side, a signal that someone is addressing you, you cant even find the words to speak, and you're opening and closing your mouth inefficaciously.
And the lights, they're so bright that your eyes don't even register anything else. The symphony of colors blocks out virtually all else, black spots ebbing at your vision until all you can see is blobs of light dancing across your image.
And suddenly, you're recoiling from Cedric's touch, pushing yourself weakly away from him as your heart beats like a jackhammer in your chest. You're trying to ground yourself by putting a hand to your neck and feeling your heartbeat like you usually do, but this time, your heart is beating so erratically that it's ringing in your eardrums, and it's making everything worse.
And you stumble back until you feel the stairs across the room, but that's not what you want to feel. You need air, and the alcohol-stained oxygen you're inhaling shakily is like acid in your lungs.
You try to move, to get out of this place and find some reprieve for the sensory overload that is making you collapse like a house of cards, but you can't even decipher left from right as you melt into the floor.
Your breathing is staccatoed, and it's weak as you reach a weak hand to grab onto the rail of the stairwell, but you miss, and tears are welling in your eyes to accompany the bile that's building in your throat.
You don't even register the soft hand pulling you up, tenderly guiding you by the small of your back until your lungs are filled with cold, sharp air.
You're gasping feebly for breath, shaking your head to try to rid your brain of the thoughts that claw at you, attempting to pull you deeper into the depths of your own delirious headspace.
But you reach a hand out and feel someone, who's chest is heaving slightly with soft breaths, rhythmic in comparison to your staggered ones.
It grounds you, the feeling of the heartbeat under your fingers, and you're mindlessly falling into the person's chest, taking in a deep breath and clamping your eyes shut.
The inhale that comes into your lungs is accompanied by a familiar scent, one of sandalwood and honey and warmth. It's a scent you love, one you know, and one whose owner is the love of your life.
You finally open your eyes to look up owlishly at your boyfriend, who has a worried expression as his index finger traces soft circles into the junction of your back and your hip, and you attempt to smile at him through the ringing of your ears. He smiles back, relief washing over his face like a tidal wave.
"There's my girl," he says softly, voice just above a whisper as to not overwhelm your senses once again. You smile languidly, senses numbed now as if you've woken up from a too-long nap.
"M'sorry." The first word that comes from your lips is one of apology, and it's barely audible as you speak into Cedric's neck.
"Why are you sorry, dove?" he says, concern painting his face as his brows knit together. When you don't respond, sniffling softly, he speaks again. "I'm the one that should be sorry. I shouldn't've made you come with me, m'so, so, so sorry."
You shake your head adamantly, frowning. "I ruined your party," you whisper, tears returning along your waterline, but before they spill over, Cedric wipes them away tenderly with his thumb.
"You know I didn't wanna go anyway. Being with you s'so much better." He looks into your eyes gently, and you can't find a trace of insincerity in his warm irises, so you offer a watery smile.
"M'still sorry," you say, frown returning to your features, "Y'can't take me anywhere." you huff, and Cedric scowls.
"I can, firstly," he says softly, "You're much better with people than you let yourself believe. And second, I don't need to. I'm more than okay with having you all to myself." He smiles at the last comment, and you laugh softly, burying your head in his neck. He kisses your temple tentatively, and you pull back, looking into his eyes and then down to his lips. His breath audibly hitches in his throat, and he opens his mouth to speak.
"C-can I kiss you? I don't want to overwhelm you, you don't-" He's cut off as you place a soft kiss to his cushion lips, arms instinctively lacing around his neck.
He's gentle in reciprocating, trying not to make your sensory overload worse, which is all but forgotten once you succumb to the familiar feeling of his lips on yours.
@/mullthingsoverinthehotwater
1046 words
