'And he's the best fuck that ever walked. He's beautiful - rich, in money and everything else; he's a rockstar to boot, trapped in the body of a fighter. And how he fought; at a state of turmoil with himself - somewhere inside his soul that only she...
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♱
'He was no more than a baby then Well he seemed broken-hearted Something within him But the moment that I first laid Eyes on him, all alone On the edge of seventeen
The clouds never expect it when it rains But the sea changes colours But the sea does not change So with the slow, graceful flow of age I went forth with an age old desire to please On the edge of seventeen'
Hera kind of loves this time of year. Everywhere she went, amethyst blooms were shadowed under shafts of faltering light, hindered by a soft-spun cloud of mist. The lingering sun bounded for warmer shores, doing little for the frozen grass and berries, which were darkened red, replacing fallen petals that curl delicately into the sable earth.
Hera had forgotten to give Sirius the Firewhisky, and immediately sent it over so she wouldn't be tempted.
Valentine's Day had been a short but sweet affair — it wasn't like she had a partner, so she told herself she was celebrating for Katie and Lee and Alicia and Odette. Hera had also become strangely possessive over Alicia in recent weeks — perhaps it stemmed from their romantic-esque relationship as children, where they suppressed things about themselves that would take years to come up again. How were they to know at twelve they shouldn't be kissing each other on the lips?
The media's depiction of Hera hadn't gotten better, but none had been as extreme as the first, so she tried not to let it bother her so much. Rita had pulled out all the stops, calling her an obnoxious, rabble-rousing, image-obsessed opportunist who revelled in ruining people's relationships (that had come from what Rita overheard the night of the Yule Ball).
As per usual, the party went from the 19th to the early hours of the 20th — Lee's birthday first and Hera's second. It had been... interesting, to say the least.
Hera had been talking to Ange and Fred a bit more, accepting that if George didn't have a problem with them, she couldn't hide behind that excuse any longer. She had put aside her stubbornness for the night and laughed with everyone else when Fred cut up an inflatable sex doll and wore it as a costume. How he even had it wasn't something anybody wanted answering...
