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BLOODDOESN'T ALWAYS MEANFAMILY
DECEMBER 13TH 1994
„I NEVER NOTICED THE SCARS ON your back." the voice Athena came to be familiar with, to the point where she could easily pick it out in a crowd of people, spoke out lowly, sitting next to her quietly as he watched her sketching in concentration and focus.
Athena made a tch sound, her voice flat as she kept her eyes on the odd ones she was drawing, „Boy, you sure know how to flatter a girl, Potter."
He was silent for a while and Athena felt a certain awkwardness radiating at her like he wasn't sure how to respond, or rather, how far to go before she would snap him in half.
„You want me to flatter you?" Potter put on a teasing smile, leaning forward and resting his chin on his fist. Athena knew he was going to say something stupid before he even opened his mouth. He spoke in his most dramatic voice, „Your owly red eyes make my heart race faster than a broomstick could—"
Athena put the sketch of Apollo down and pushed Potter into the lake.
She heard a choking noise, turning her attention back to the small book as she let out a tiny smirk on her lips. There was a flailing sound behind her and Athena briefly wondered if he learned to swim, but then the flailing stopped for a good moment and it was blissfully silent.
It was her mistake to have been too focus on her sketch, she hadn't realised where he was until he put his icily cold, wet hands on her bare arms from where he was standing behind her.
Coldness was never a problem for her since she turned into a werewolf, especially after the amount of time she spent in the underworld where the walls were chilly and the constant death around her.
The thing that made her startle at that moment was the sudden shock, and the feeling of his hands on her arms.
„Potter," she shrieked, moving around to face his wide grin directed at her.
He laughed, although Athena noticed he started to shiver badly. His clothes were dripping with water and his hair surprisingly flat now that it's wet hanging to his forehead.
„You were the one who shoved me into the water," Potter replied unapologetically, shaking himself like a wet dog. „In december, mind you."
She scoffed, wiping her arms dry, „It's not my fault you don't know when to keep your mouth shut, Cockroach."
His teeth made a rattling noise and he looked like he couldn't open his mouth to speak anymore, wrapping his arms around him with a face that told her he was trying to think of a heating spell.
