𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐧 | 𝐑.𝐖 ✔︎

𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐭𝐰𝐨

Mature Content
Ahead [like the entire
chapter]
- -

The beautiful sunset had now been replaced
by the gleaming waxing gibbous, the pale light
of it reflecting beautifully off of the lake water. And If I listen closely the wind almost sounded like it was humming - this signaled that hours had passed since I'd arrived here,

But neither of us seemed to care.

We'd finished off the food that Ron packed almost an hour and now we were just sitting, talking about anything that came to our head. And in this moment everything about me and Ron Weasley seemed so flawless.

It wasn't being dampened by the threats Stephanie chewed at me - the hostility that we'd previously shown each other - or the
anxiousness over being caught together: now, in this moment, everything was perfect.

A dramatic scoff left my lips. "Trust me, Weasley had I joined the Slytherin team. Gryffindor wouldn't have won so many--"

"You playing Qudditch?" Ron displayed a toothy smile to me, "Yeah that sounds even more silly than Slytherin actually and fairly beating Gryffindor in a match."

My mouth gapes at Ron's doubts in me - finding it even more offensive than the way that he'd burst out in laughter after I explained how I got a scar on my ankle after falling off my broom while playing Qudditch with Blaise.

"Your funny. It only sounds silly because I never tried out," I smugly pointed at myself, raising my eyebrows up and down. "I'd make Viktor Krum look like an new-be," I added on, muttering sarcastically.

"Oh stop it." A pure laugh emits from him.
"Even if that's true -- which I'm pretty positive that it's not -- your team sucks,"

"Didn't you guys loose to Hufflepuff?" I remembered ever so clearly. "Oliver Woods going diving in water, does that ring an bell?" My finger's tauntingly rub my chin.

Ron's tongue prodded inside his cheek, scooting his body closer to mine. He then taunted lowly, "..Continue telling me about how good you are at Qudditch Miss Moons."

His sarcastic tone and the amusement spreading across his face let's me know that he's underneath the impression that I'm not telling the truth about my skills. So I muttered with a smug smirk rising on my lips,

"Better than you are for sure," I grumble, folding my arms over my chest.

"Is that so?" Ron smirked, light eyebrows raising mockingly. Why doesn't he believe me?

When I nodded my head he hummed out a humor filled laugh. Of course I wouldn't make Viktor Krum look like an new-be - or I wasn't better than him, "Yeah that's very so."

"We'll see about that when we go home." Something in his tone makes my stomach summersault immediately, as if there was a double meaning to his words.

Unknowingly, my fingers resumed their fiddling with the hem of my dress, slowly tugging the fabric upwards.

Our eyes keep eye contact: his withholding concentration and mine admiration no doubt. What was he thinking about? Whatever it was he seemed to be having a full on argument with
himself mentally - he looked unsure.

I could feel an spark between us, growing intense the longer we looked at one another other, but it was so hard to tear away from it. My legs clenched slightly, feeling myself grow bothered by his potent gaze.

My runs completely dry - hoping that he wouldn't leave me in the highs as he's been doing annoyingly for the past week. It's been an whole two months since Ron touched me.
since he's been inside of me; And I wanted him - needed him, so bad.