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— do any of u go by pronouns that aren't she/her? bc otherwise i'm gonna safely assume we're all ladies
long chapter! —
As the game progresses, we eventually lose a few players.
Blaise, who tends to get knocked out and tired easily, turned in first, nearly walking into a wall on his way out the dorm and back to our own. Miles left after a while too, though he left with Kailani Fern to find a closet or something to do it in. Verona and Elvina Ashe wanted to go to sleep, so they kicked us out, leaving us in the hallway of the girls' dorms, leaning against walls and doors trying not to be too loud (and definitely failing).
So now it's me, Pansy, Adrian, Graham, and Draco sitting at the end of the hallway opposite the door, each of us holding Firewhiskey in our hands. Pansy at one point disappeared into our dorm to return with some Alihosty (met by cheers which were in turn met by angry and cranky shouting from Verona to shut up), and so now between my fingers I hold a joint, feeling blessed to be young and high.
As for our clothing status, we're surprisingly not naked. I shed my coat (lick dip off of someone's armpit. What the hell, Adrian?) and shoes (fake an orgasm. I'm bold, but not that bold).
"Whose turn is it?" Graham asks from beside me, leaning in much closer than necessary to take the blunt from my joint, seemingly not noticing the look I give him as he does so. "Draco's?"
"Mm," Adrian says, mouth muffled by the Firewhiskey. He then claps Draco, who sits beside him, on the shoulder hard enough that it makes the blond jolt. "Malfoy here hasn't had a turn in a bit."
"Truth or dare, Draco?" Pansy asks, leaning back against the wall all on her own, her legs outstretched between the rest of us.
Draco groans slightly as he stretches his back, my eyes dropping to his torso. I stare at him unabashedly, the alcohol and Alihosty in my system taking away what little shame I normally have as I ogle him freely. He lost his thin red sweater a while back, which I almost miss, because though I wouldn't tell him, red might be his color. But I don't really miss it, because now I get a perfect view of his perfect chest and stomach and abs, strong and muscular but lean from his Seeker position and whatever workouts he might be doing.
When I look back up at his eyes, he's looking directly at me. He smirks, a smug look in his eyes, but I couldn't care less, so I smirk right back and discreetly lift my bottle at him like a toast.
"Truth," he says without taking his eyes off of me. I don't look away from his gaze, but I can see his finger lazily tracing the lines of his abs, and I'm hit with a sudden urge to do that myself.
Graham "slyly" wraps his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. Somehow, his overly masculine cologne and scent of mild sweat is more overpowering than even the Alihosty. I cringe slightly, my shoulders tense, my eyes still frozen on Draco's.
