❝You don't find me handsome?❞ Regulus' breath tickles the nape of Laura's neck, sending a wave of happiness down her spine.
She leans backward to fake a scowl up at him. ❝I find you utterly repulsive.❞
His lips quirk as he ducks his head down to k...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
LAURA'S FURY HAS had the chance to stew over the weekend, and it seems to have buried itself in everything she touches.
Marlene peers over Laura's shoulder as her slender fingers make an absolute mess of her sheet music. Professor Flitwick wanted her to create a score for the upcoming fall feast, but since her argument with Black, she's been finding it incredibly hard to come up with music— let alone an entire set for a feast.
"I think you should take a break," Marlene comments, sitting down next to Laura. "You've been overworking yourself, and you still won't tell me or Lily what's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong." A muscle in Laura's jaw ticks as she mutters this, and she has to keep her cherry-colored lips from tugging downwards as she incinerates yet another sheet of music.
Marlene lets out an unconvinced snort. "You've been scribbling for an hour straight." She pulls the quill from Laura's hand gently. "I think you should take a walk and grab some fresh air."
Laura peers out the window overlooking the Black Lake and is perturbed to find a familiar set of Slytherins basking next to it. She shoots Marlene an aggravated look. "No, I think I'd much rather stay inside."
"Merlin, you're so dramatic," Marlene says, letting out a huff. "What on earth could have happened that was so bad that now you won't even leave the commons?"
"If you knew, you'd hate me forever," Laura responds crossly. Her fingers flex at the feeling of having nothing to busy themselves with, and she wishes that Marlene wouldn't have taken her quill. Besides, what was the harm of staying inside? Laura saw it as an opportunity to let her sunburn heal, not as the horrible, reclusive ordeal that Marlene was making it out to be.
Mary looks up from her textbook and eyes Laura from across the coffee table in between them. "Marles is right. You're looking quite pale, and you could use some time outside. It might also help you clear your head from whatever's blocking your writing," She adds.
Laura rolls her eyes and gathers her things. "I don't see any problem with me staying in for once. I've got too much work to be messing around outside." With that, she leaves the commons and contends to try the library instead. Her boots make harsh sounds against the tile floor as she fumes to herself.
Last Friday, she never even got to order a new uniform from Gladrags, and she had to fix the tear herself. It also didn't help that she'd pricked her finger in the process and then tripped and bruised her knee on the way to Madame Pomphrey's to find bandages.
By the time Laura reaches the library, she's worked her anger up so much that a scowl resides on her lips and her eyes are narrowed at nothing in particular.
Fuck you, Regulus Black, for putting me in such a foul mood, Laura thinks irritatedly as she sets her parchment and quills onto one of the empty tables and flops down into her seat miserably.
