𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐍; 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐫.

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐢𝐢: 𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞.

❞𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐧, 𝐓𝐚𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭❜𝐬 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬,❞ 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟, 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐟. "Urquehart is not a fine ass man."

"No, but hear me out," she pleaded, grabbing onto his sleeve as they climbed the stairs in the Quidditch stadium. "He'd show you such a good time in bed." She watched the Slytherin players take to the skies, green fluttering in their wake. Her eyes narrowed as she honed in on Evan Rosier, ascending sharply.

"You, maybe," James said. "I don't know about myself."

Evan, administering a sharper turn, skidded to a stop beside all the other Beater wannabes, in front of Amara and James.

"He'd throw you around like a sack of potatoes," Amara protested. "Everyone enjoys that at least a little bit!"

"Speaking from experience?" he asked, turning around and flashing a quizzical eyebrow.

"Shut the bloody hell up, Rosier, no one invited you to the conversation," she snapped.

"So hostile, and for what?" Evan shook his head mockingly, a small smile ghosting his mouth. "Anyone ever told you you'll never get laid with an attitude like that?"

"If you're speaking from personal preference, I'll stay a bitch," Amara reasoned. "I'd rather die a virgin than sleep with you, anyways."

Emma Vanity, the Slytherin Team Captain, clapped her hands together and released a Bludger, signalling for the first Beater to go.  

Urquehart, the dark-haired object of Amara's previous claims, took off after it. She elbowed James and watched his bare arm flex as he took a swing. "See?" she whispered, eyeing the large tattooed sleeve ripple with the movement of his arm.

"Kind of," James replied uncertainly, brow lowering as he stared the Beater down. "Wait, why is he kinda—"

"He's kinda.." Amara agreed with a laugh. "Rosier, what the hell are you still doing here?"

Disgust overtook his handsome features. "What, you think I'm just hanging around to engage in conversation with you lot? As you can see, we're going one at a time. If I'm bothering you so much, how about you just leave?"

"I kind of get the feeling that we're bothering him," James said. "Look at the poor bloke. Tomato colored, and all."

"Then I think it best that we stay right here," Amara said firmly. "Rosier, I hope you have a god-awful tryout. Let me know if I can help by making it any worse!" 

"Stop trying to be relevant," he sneered, although his cheeks were tinged a deep red. "Just stay silent, will you?"

"Do we have an effect on you, Rosier?" she mocked, watching his red tint grow. At James's raised eyebrow and pointed look, she laughed. "Or is it just me?"

"You wish, Avison," he snapped. "Are you even here to scout? Or are you just here to drool over Urquehart?"

"Fantastic question," she said dryly. "Run along, now; it's your turn, isn't it?"