𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐞 ᵐᵃʳˡᵉⁿᵉ ᵐᶜᵏⁱⁿⁿᵒⁿ

⁰⁰¹𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐝, attacking her eyes with no regrets. she groaned as she rolled over and promptly fell out of the bed, landing on the floor with a thud... except she didn't land on the floor and instead on a person.

"oof!" james exclaimed from under her.

rosalind looked up and took in her surroundings, noticing how everything around them was an obnoxious red and not the soft comforting blue she had come to adore. the room was also a mess, with dirty underwear and stained robes thrown carelessly on the floor.

"hey, you're really heavy, can you get off me please?" james said again, and rosalind smirked at him.

"no," rosalind responded in a sing-songy voice, settling herself better onto james.

their faces were inches apart, and if they were any two people, they probably would have blushed profusely and hurried to get off each other. but they were rosalind and james or rather rosalindandjames with how close they were, and not even awkwardness could separate them. it's not like they were interested, anyway. rosalind, who slept with anything that moved (what can she say? she liked sex, and it was a nice way to spend the energy she got from caffeine), had no interest in sleeping with the boy she had seen wet himself in the bathtub (which meant either sirius or james it was interchangable), and james was... well, he had his eyes on other people. most likely dark haired grey eyed boys.

"it's not fair," james pouted. "you're not ticklish and i can't hit a girl."

"wow, you're such a gentleman," she rolled her eyes, propping up her elbows on his shoulders. "anyway. why was i sleeping in your bed?"

he struggled to shrug with her weight on his shoulders, but did so anyway.

"why would i know? if you were too drunk to remember, i was a goner."

it wasn't like rosalind to get drunk to the point where she didn't remember much. except besides remus, she was the most responsible one. she hated getting drunk, scared of doing something she's regret, and she often had to keep sirius and james out of trouble. but yesterday had been her birthday, and she had wanted to forget herself for a night. especially after she got the letter.

rosalind hated letters. she hated the letters she received mostly, because there was no packaged love in them. the letters she received were simply a necessity, a message she had to receive in that very moment- she was sure of that, because her parents were a firm believer that letters were for cowards. if you want to say something, say it to someone's face.

"what- woah," remus blinked at the two of them and rosalind simply grinned while james sent him an expression of help. "uhh..."

"it's not what it looks like!" james exclaimed and rosalind laughed, throwing her head back, making her hair whip james in the face.

"usually when someone says that it means that it's exactly what it looks like," peter groaned, pulling away the curtains of his bed. "woah."

"rosalind, get off!" james said desperately.

"can everyone just shut up!" sirius burst out of his bed, rubbing his eyes. "woah."

"you three are all so predictable," rosalind sighed before rolling off james, who wheezed as he fervently tried to inhale as much oxygen as possible.

"what did we just wake up to?" remus said, still staring at the space rosalind used to be.

"nothing!" james blushed. "just rosalind being annoying."