alluringly entwined | f.w, d.m

61

What would happen if she died in her sleep?

It was a sort of fear she had now.

What if she just didn't wake up? She wouldn't have had the chance to say goodbye to anyone.

But what if she didn't die in her sleep? How would she die?

Would she just drop dead? Would she choke first? Would she just faint and not wake up? Would she unleash a scream and then die? Would her body grow limp before her mind shut down?

How was she going to die?

Oshun felt knots in her tummy just thinking about it as she lay awake. Despite her sleepiness, she was up early.

She feared she would die in her sleep when all she ever wanted to do these days was sleep. Weird.

She was tangled in Fred's arms, who was still sound asleep. He was asleep on his back and she was on top of him, her own personal bed.

They were in her dorm and it was a Saturday. There was a Quidditch game today—Slytherin vs Gryffindor.

She was going to watch the game, but she was going to sit with Mavi since Oshun didn't want to be alone while watching the game.

Oshun's finger traced nonsense shapes and lines on Fred's freckled chest as he slept and her forehead was pressed into the side of his neck. His strong arms were tightly wrapped around her body, one hand on her ass.

He always cuddled and slept with one hand on her bum when they were together, subconsciously caressing as he slept. His head was turned, his cheek pressed into the side of her head as his steady breaths blew into her hair.

It was ruled as a suicide, Colin's death. Professionals had ruled it a suicide after examining the body and getting the autopsy reports.

Oshun knew it was no suicide.

Someone was killing these Muggle-borns and she had a nag at her chest that told her exactly who, but she just didn't know how to prove it. So she would wait until she could prove it.

A good portion of Gryffindor house was distraught over Colin's death, but there was nothing anyone could have done about it.

Oshun heard the movements of Forest waking up on her side of the dorm, groaning and stretching.

Oshun lifted her head and sat up, her legs swiftly sliding to straddle the redhead's torso. Her palms pressed into his chest as she studied his gorgeous sleeping face.

His hands moved under her jersey—his Quidditch jersey—to rest on her bum, his eyes opening slowly. He stared back at her, bleary-eyed, but a lopsided smile stretching upon his mouth. A lopsided and adoring smile.

"Hi, big head," she murmured as her fingers combed his mussed hair back.

"Morning, angel." He groaned groggily and stretched himself out below her."How long have you been up?"

"Not long," she said, her fingertips tracing down the side of his face. "But you have a game to get ready for."

A throaty sigh elicited his lips as he nodded, his hands lightly smacking her bum. He sat up, which made her slide down to his lap. He pushed his palms into her ass to bring her closer to him to kiss her on the mouth briefly.

"I need to take a shit." His sleepy voice sent butterflies right in her stomach. He stretched his arms out before throwing them around her tightly.

"Pre-game shit, very charming." She laughed as she snuggled more into his body. "Do it in your own bathroom."