Oliver Wood is stubborn, confident, and brave... or at least that's the façade he wishes to show. Lying is easy for Oliver, but living is harder when a white-haired girl crashes into him by chance. It's too bad she's the younger sister of his quiddi...
tw: some smut. word count: 7465 additional comments: holy fuck, i'm back.
GOOD GIRL
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OLIVER'S POV
Lara and I joined the rest of the group soon after the twins did, much to my dismay as the ginger fucks kept shooting knowing looks, teasing smirks and, worst of all, winks. Sitting in between Kieran and Lara, I faced the twins while Kieran was opposite Ella. Louis, who hadn't managed to escape this gathering yet, sat at the end of the table. As did Yasmin on the opposite side.
"Oh! And before I forget" Freddie grinned, the smile reaching his eyes as he approached Lara.
In a firm grip, a crumpled letter creased in his palm. He held it in front of himself, pushing it Lara's way as he skipped around the table. I watched her bite her lip, eyes lighting up as she gratefully accepted the letter, her calloused hands gently holding it. She perked up, flittering joy pocketing her features, and subsequently making me melt; for she got so excited by even the tiniest of things.
"What's this?" Ogling the paper, she drew her fingertips over her inked name across the front. Delicate.
I smiled at her, admiring the pinkish tint that painted her cheeks and the white strands that embroiled her head, framing her features. I repositioned in my seat, the light that hit her cheekbones sending me into a jolt of want- want for her. I gulped, a harsh swallow that rippled my throat as I try not to get too excited over her at the dinner table. So, pushing down the euphoric memories from earlier, or the way her smile lit up the room, I turned to Fred who retreated back to the other side of the table. He slumped into his seat with an excited hmph!
As he did, he came up with another letter and, with no warning, threw it at my head. Hard.
"What was that for?!" I revise, bringing my finger up to soothe the part of my forehead that the sharp, and surprisingly heavy, letter hit.
Ella giggled at my hurt look, enjoying the look of pain on my face. Fred only mewled a "cry baby", before turning back to Lara. Clearly, she's the favourite.
"It's an invitation! I gave everyone else one when we got here, but you guys were busy upstairs-- "
"Busy" George repeated the word with a mocking air, thin smile edging to his lips as he gave us a knowing look. "Busy, my arse"
I thinned my eyes which seemed to stop his cheeky habits, for now.
"What's the invitation for?" Lara tilted her head in question, but was answered as she read the letter.
It was pretty cursive writing that contrasted the old, fraying parchment that yellowed at its burnt-out edges. Her eyes manifesting on the word that stuck out to her like a burning building; for, as she read it, her excitement bubbled up, rolling over her in tidal waves that washed through me. Weirdly enough, now that I think about it, Lara's emotions do often reflect onto me – a perk of knowing each other so well, perhaps.
