heedless by romanshome

manipulation

[Warning : Manipulated Sexual Scenes. May make some uncomfortable]

Turning around, my brown hues set on the older man that stood right after the entrance of the Three Bromsticks.

Twice in one day? And I haven't even heard from his son? Ridiculous. Turning back around, I sunk in my seat—hoping he wouldn't see me. I was utterly embarrassed about his unfiltered rage back in the shop, and didn't feel like speaking to him. He was quite difficult to talk to. But apparently, Hestia had a different idea, shooting her arm up in the air with a glint in her eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy!"

Her voice slightly raised above the heavy chatter in the pub. My eyes grew wide as I linger over the table, smacking her arm down. "No—don't—!"

"Why not?" She hissed, but that smirk still played on her lips. Her brow quirked in amusement. "We could find out if he's into that ritu—"

My eyes widened. "Shut u—"

"Mr. Malfoy," she cut me off, silently telling me with her eyes that he was right behind me. My face paled, blood turning cold—as my body grew rigid. It was almost like I could feel his bulky presence behind me, and by slowly turning my head, his squinted eyes were peering down onto me. I heard Hestia swallow loudly. "Haven't seen ya since the Christmas Party Scorp threw two years ago."

His eyes flickered up to hers, brow raising sharply.
"The one without my permission? Hm. Yes—I remember that quite well."

She released a small laugh before I shifted to look over at her, sending her a death glare. But she avoided my gaze as she dug her chin into the palm of her hand, smiling up at him innocently. I was going to kill her. "Say, Mr. Malfoy—do you have deer heads in your house? I've heard they make

quite a good decoration."
She was dead. I was strangling her with my mind.

Albus was sending her a weirded out look, but she didn't budge her eyes away from Scorpius' father. Blinking over at him, I watched as his brows lightly snapped together, head tilting to the side.

"Deer heads?"

I felt myself brushing furiously, and for a brief moment, an image of Mr. Malfoy wearing one of those things while naked flashed into my mind. Built, chiseled chest that was always restricted with clothes. Mindlessly, my eyes swept over his muscular figure, chewing on the inside of my cheek. His arms. They were properly defined. His muscles bulged out of his forearms, and I felt an odd pressure in my stomac—and then the head. Ugh!

Oh god.
I was checking out my boyfriend's father.
And even worse.
He noticed.
When my eyes floated back up to his, he was staring down at me with narrowed eyes. My cheeks were most definitely red.

"Urm—bathroom," I spewed out before sitting up, and since I was just about the most clumsy person I know—my foot tipped over the leg at the bottom of the table. Losing my balance, I crashed against his sturdy chest, and felt a strong arm wrap itself around my lower back. His hold was secure. And his scent. I couldn't describe it. A mixture of cologne and a musky scent, swirled with a bit of cigarette smoke. But...in a good way.