** THIS IS A TRANSLATION TO @allonmyhead 's BOOK 'FUCKING FEELINGS' ! THIS DOES NOT BELONG TO ME IN ANY WAY **
After the relationship with Draco I decided to take a break from the boys, because I did not need anyone, much less a concentrate of probl...
«Me and your stupid pride will pretend to believe it, now honey, will you join me in the shower even though I'm not Mattheo and I don't have his huge cock?»
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*N/A: for those who haven't read Possessive, you should know that for a short time Y/n moved to Beauxbatons in France, and then Odeya and Jacob followed her to Hogwarts. Later Mattheo also arrived. I'll refer to this.*
Y/N
The sun's rays filter through the window, reflecting the green waves of the Black Lake into the room. I like the rain, but there's nothing more beautiful than waking up like this: with this play of lights and the rustle of the water to lull you, not dominated by the snore of Odeya, which the two drinks of last night and Blaise, are just one to collapse.
I pull down my heavy green duvet and get out of my four-poster bed. I relax my shoulders when I notice that there's no giant octopus to bang its tentacles on the glass with the intent to kidnap you in your sleep, and no storm that's about to break into your room. But in short. . . the advantages and disadvantages of living in the dungeons, to which every average Slytherin is now used to every morning.
My roguish smile widens, even more, when I realize not only that I haven't woken up in a bad mood like I usually do three hundred and sixty-four days a year, but that I have a petty plan and in partnership with a person much, much more incorrect than me, to be implemented.
I open the wardrobe doors to get dressed, but an advanced volume of transfiguration appears in front of me, crushing my foot. «AAAAH! SLUTTY WHORE! WHAT THE FUCK IS A POTENTIAL CRIME WEAPON DOING IN MY FUCKING WARDROBE?!» I swear instinctively hopping in pain, and from the angry growl coming from my best friend's clump of silver sequined pillows, I find it really hard to tell if it's a "yes, sorry, I have mental problems and I'm a chronic mess" or "ugly bitch, I wanted to kill you, too. bad I didn't succeed for the second time" but by now I know her to the point of deducing that the second option is the correct one.
«Good morning, little flower» I beam at her, pulling the blanket off her, and at the sight of her big ass covered only by a skimpy dark purple panty I can't help but slap it, which leads her to emit the second growl of the data, and I wouldn't say bullshit, but I suppose that the one with the bad mood today will be her.
«Did Blaise come by last night? Merlin tell me you didn't fuck with me in the next bed! Wait. . . is this a bite?» I laugh, squeezing her right asscheek marked by her cannibalistic boyfriend's teeth, and it would be really troubling if I just didn't know them. But it's Blaise we're talking about, and everyone knows he's not quite right, and that's okay. «But. . . you really like wild sex, I see»
With one knee she pulls me away from her, hissing something very similar to a "don't piss me off or I'll throw you to the giant octopus."
Sometimes I wonder how she became my best friend, but only sometimes. . . then I remember she has the exact same problems as me and it passes.
