Don't Give, Just Take | F. Weasley

20 | Every Bits

WARNING!! Sexual content (No shit Sherlock, but yk)

Anyways, I dedicate this chapter to weasley_wh0re cause she helped with the spice hehe.

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Torri sipped her mixed rum and soda with her straw. She's been in the bar, alone, for the past hour. Her 44 year old hot looking arse has been unoccupied for a long time. She sighed heavily and called Hiro, the bartender, to pay for her drinks for the night.

"Not lucky tonight?" He asked as he calculated her total amount. She ran her left fingers through her greying strawberry blonde hair, between ginger as molly or red as Sarah's, but just almost as it still remained mostly brown.

Her lips thinned like a strand of her hair. "When was I ever lucky?" She giggled with faint disappointment. A little more conversation and she bid her goodbye for the night.

She was the youngest in her group of friends, and because of her looks she had to settle for young men. Torri wanted more than a fling, yet she was beginning to give up and completely rest the family's bloodline to Safe.

It was a chilly spring night. She stopped by a field and looked over the peaking hill. Her feet made their way up the inclined ground, she was exhausted and tipsy, and possibly broken-hearted without anyone breaking her.

"FUCK YOU!!!!!" She screamed on top of her lungs. The vapor of her heat spreading in the air along with her loathe for the universe.

She huffed, she was out of breath yet she used her last gasps to curse at no one. "I'm hot as fuck! I'm a hot fucking bitch and I'm celibate! This does not make sense! I never said I didn't want a child or a husband! I only said I find men annoying! You're so unfair! Ahh!"

Hands gripped tightly on her small satchel and wand cane. "I WANT A MAN! GIVE ME ONE– Oh Merlin's– you scared me, you git." She exclaimed as a figure who laid on the bench five feet before her and three feet away from the edge of the small cliff, sat up to her vision.

Her hand that held her satchel rested on her chest and she calmed herself down by tapping it in fourths on the rhythm of a heartbeat.

A middle aged man with brown hair sat up and turned to Torri. He could see her tiny figure and her plump lips. Whilst she had nothing but a silhouette of a man due to the small hint of light from the city.

"How did a lady get here? This is strictly for men only." He announced with his hoarse voice hinting her that he had just woken up.

Torri stood properly and prepped her wand just in case the man was dangerous. He stood up, rubbed his eyes and brushed his hair back with his fingers. It wasn't hard to identify his fit build despite the darkness.

"It's a public place and you might be too drunk to realize that nothing's special about the place rather than screaming your loathe." She exclaimed. He walked closer to her, missing a step every after another. He is drunk. She frowned and began to walk away.

He noticed her frame going farther and farther. He ran after her and held her right shoulder which she immediately escaped from using her cane.Torri pointed it towards his throat, a gap between them formed as she pushed it further away from her.

He raised his arms in surrender releasing a chuckle that she found offensive. "You haven't changed. Still the same feisty Torri, I know." He stated that made her brows furrow.

"I think you got the wrong person." She said monotonously, still poking his neck with the tip of her cane.

A set of pearl barriers shone before her eyes and lips reached up the sky. His low chuckle was thrilling, it sent shivers down her spine. "Strawberry blonde hair, brown eyes, and the Phoenix family's inheritance cane that open's the entrance to this hill? I'm quite sure that you are the right person to fit."