𝙉𝙤𝙩 𝙎𝙤 𝙂𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 ―𝐣𝐬𝐩

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐲-𝐓𝐰𝐨 - 𝐏𝐓𝐒 𝐇𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧

James

I'm standing shirtless in the prefects' bathroom, leaning against the marble sink, watching Martha Aurum draw fake tattoos on my chest with the tip of her wand. Her ocean blue eyes are focused, and her lips are slightly pursed in concentration as she tries to replicate the devilish ink I'd suggested for the night. But honestly? All I can focus on are her tits—those perfectly big, round tits that are practically in my face in that skimpy white lingerie. Luella had small tits so this is incredibly new to me, and no, I'm not body shaming Lu. She was and is gorgeous that is not defined by her chest- er...size? Nor by what happened between us. Anyways point is this is new to me.

I'm supposed to be getting ready for this Halloween party, but it's fucking impossible to keep my head straight. She's in white lace that leaves nothing to the imagination, and I'm about ten seconds away from completely losing it. Her golden blonde hair is still curling itself, her curling wand floating beside her (yes, this girl is so smart she can do wandless magic at 16), but all I see is that ridiculous lingerie with the sheer cups. I'm in love with her tits, and I need to stop thinking about them. And I need to stop saying the word tits.

But Merlin, this girl is making it hard. Literally.

"Oi, careful, Aurum," I mumble as she accidentally jabs me with the tip of her wand. "That's my actual skin, not parchment."

She smirks, not looking up. "Maybe if you'd stop fidgeting, I wouldn't keep jabbing you."

Right. Like it's my fault she decided to wear... that.

"You're seriously going to wear this tonight?" I ask, my voice rougher than I intended. I can already picture the looks she's going to get at the party, especially from the blokes. And hell, Nate's going to lose his shit. More than he already has I mean. But I'm not her dad, and I'm definitely not going to tell her what to wear. That's not my place—unless it's my little sister Lily, of course. Then it's a different story.

"I told you I'd wear whatever I wanted," she replies, her tone dripping with challenge, glancing up at me with those blue eyes. "You're not about to try and stop me, are you, baby?" She throws in that last word with a little smirk, knowing it'll get under my skin. The way she says that fucking word sends a jolt straight to my dick, I really need to rub my cross pendant more often to get rid of these thoughts.

I let out a frustrated laugh, running a hand through my hair, which she's already managed to mess up while doing my fake tattoos. "Nope, not my problem if you want every bloke in the castle drooling over you tonight."

Her hand pauses for a moment, hovering over my chest, and she glances up at me. "What's that supposed to mean?"

I shrug, trying to play it cool. "Just saying, you might as well wear a sign that says 'look but don't touch.'"

She rolls her eyes, flicking her wand to add a devilish-looking tattoo to my collarbone. "Like you care. We're not even really dating, remember?"

That hits harder than I want to admit, and I try to shrug it off. "Yeah, but we've got a role to play, don't we?" I lean in a little, my chest brushing against her hand. "Don't want anyone getting the wrong idea about what's mine."

Her cheeks flush just a bit, and I know I've gotten to her. There's something satisfying about that—making her blush like this. She acts so confident half the time, but I know how to push her buttons just right.

"Yours?" she scoffs, raising an eyebrow, but she doesn't pull away. Instead, she finishes off the tattoo and leans back, admiring her work. "You don't own me, Potter. We're just pretending, remember? You made that very clear."