better off | d.m.

1.boys

"Did not."

"Did."

"Did not."

"Abso–fucking–lutely did."

"Okay, alright, maybe I did sleep with Macmillan!" Sage throws some Berti Botts at Theo. "Will you shut up about it already?"

He catches one with his mouth as he slides along the headboard with his back, grinning smugly. "That's all I wanted to hear. And since when do you shag someone so demure? He's the picture of a Hufflepuff."

"It has been a rough couple of months, alright," she throws another bean from where she's leaning on a bedpost, intentionally aiming for his stomach. "Don't act as if you haven't had your fair share of Puffies."

Sage has always been blunt and open. Her rather active sex life is no secret and she owns it. She likes to have fun, to experience, to not committ. It is more easy that way.

"The Puffies are a nice little change every now and then. Gotta keep my palette divers, you know. Some innocent, some down and dirty." His brows shortly raise and his bottom lip is caught between his lips.

All it does it make her throw a handfull of the sweets at him and they bounce off in all directions. "Dont make that stupid face, or I will hex it away."

Unphased by the threat, he looks around at the floor. "You will have to clean that."

She gives a contemptuous snort.

"Sage."

"You know I won't," she says, unfazed.

"Use magic."

"You use magic."

For several beats, hazel challengs green, or green challenges hazel. It's a matter of sheer strong-headedness. A matter thickly woven into their relationship.

Sage feels the corner of her mouth tilt up, just ever so slightly. Theo can never win against her will, which is about the only thing he has accepted as a fact. Though clearly that doesn't stop him from pushing it.

Annoyance flooding his eyes, Theo sighs and flicks his wand so the beans vaporate into nothing. The smirk blooms to full victorious capacity, rubbing it in his face just how wrapped up she has him around her finger.

"Blue?"

That nickname, she will never get over. Over ten years ago, he pestered her with the age old question of what her favourite color is. She had told him blue. Clearly, it changed over time yet he stills calls her by it. It could be worse-so much worse-but still...

"Yeah?"

"How do you cope with that mark of yours? I remember the first weeks I got it, it itched and burned like fucking hell."

Just at the mention of it, she has to refrain from trying to scratch it off her arm. "Yeah it does do that. Despising every molecule of my father for it is a way to cope for now," Sage fidgets with her hands instead. "And occlumency—as far as my talents let me."

It has not been weeks, but a few months since her initiation and the itch will not disappear nor lighten. Sometimes it gets so bad she scrapes until she hits flesh. Should she ever go further than that she knows she has completely lost her mind. A couple nice scars will now forever be displayed on her skin surrounding that wretched mark. 

Her left forearm weighs heavy on her body ever since that day. A burden forced on her.

"Hey," he throws a pillow at her. "You can always come to me, alright. Talk your soul out and I will listen to every syllabel, Blue. You know it."