We spend the early afternoon hours chatting with my father Elliot, who seems to greatly enjoy the company of both Reggie and Evan as he finishes baking an absolutely heavenly smelling rhubarb crumb cake. And as he leaves it to cool on the seafoam green glass cake stand set out on the counter, Reggie, Evan, and I excuse ourselves and go off on our own.
Our destination?
The attic, which years prior my parents converted into an unconventional loft space. The attic is a roomy place, and a favoured personal hangout space of mine, though its one drawback is its tendency towards overheating in the warmer weather. Fortunately, this problem is easily remedied by throwing open the attic windows to allow for proper ventilation. With a breeze circulating through the space, it goes from stifling to quite comfortable. And though my parents continue to use the far end of the attic for storage, the other half is a decidedly cool space - a huge, sun-faded Persian area rug draws one's eye immediately upon entry. Beneath it, wide wooden floorboards, the kind that creak fiercely even when you tiptoed over them barefoot. At the far end, pressed up beneath the large window, a vintage velvet arm rolled sofa and two smaller armchairs. And though the furniture is decidedly mismatched, somehow it works, the charm of the space enhanced by it. Finally, of course, the real reason I've led us up here to begin with: the crown jewel of the attic, my record player, a Linn LP12, stacked atop a large wooden apple crate.
I can't wait for Reggie to experience the magic of the record player - of muggle music
Evan too, for that matter
But first, a bit of personal business to address -
As soon as we climb the steps to the attic and shut the door behind us, I turn to Evan and jab my finger roughly in his chest, "You!"
"Me."
"... Mind explaining that ridiculous display this morning?!"
"I know - I know - I'm sorry -"
"Are you trying to out us to my parents?!"
My voice, a hushed whisper, though I have to fight to keep it at that, having held this in for several hours now.
"Of course not!"
"Then why -"
From his place at our side, Reggie chuckles good-naturedly, "Come on, Y/N, no harm done, right?"
Glancing over at Reggie, I roll my eyes, "Don't you think he could have been a bit more subtle?"
"Of course. But ..."
"But?"
But what?
Shrugging, Reggie smiles, "... It's Evan."
Turning from me to Reggie, Evan raises an eyebrow, "... And what's that supposed to mean?"
This time, an almost-smile from me, "That you're not exactly known for your subtlety. This morning on the porch, a prime example -"
Bringing his hands up to the sides of my face and pulling me close, Evan whispers softly, sensuously even, "... You're completely right, of course. And so here I am now, in this moment, prepared to beg your forgiveness ..."
I find my irritation dissolves nearly instantly, instead replaced by an unmistakable flutter in my heart.
No - no -
He doesn't get off so easily -
He can't!
... It takes all my willpower to continue to pull a face at him, to not give in and close the distance between his lips and mine.
YOU ARE READING
Coiled (Book 1 of 2)
Fanfiction"This is our story: Reggie, Evan, and I." A Marauders Era story that follows the reader (FMC), Regulus Black & Evan Rosier through their last year at Hogwarts into the First Wizarding War. This is book 1 of 2, and contains the first two parts of th...