AN: My new, short HR piece. Like it? Hate it? Want to murder me for starting another story? Let me know!
Disc: Not mine. If you want to believe it is though, knock yourself out.
Love, Kiss
Golden
Chapter One:
Uh, Morning
Damn the sun. Who gave it permission to shine so brightly?
I hate mornings. Especially after I had a bit too much to drink the night before.
This morning, though, I had a consolation prize. This prize was in the form of a strong male body beside me.
Yeah, Harry Potter is gay. So what?
Anyway, I guess that is what happens when you and your best mate go out for a night at the gay bars of London.
I wonder if Ron found a hot guy to bring home.
My eyes are still closed as I revel in the wonderful feeling of being wrapped around a naked body, one that is obviously fit, and the lovely lingering scent of sex, and something familiar...
I smirk. I don't know if you've ever had a naked guy lying next to you, but it's a good feeling.
I pondered the musky smell underlying that of last night's obvious activities. It was so strange. Where did I recognize it from? It was like... a rainy Quidditch match.
Wait.Wait. No. Waaaait. It can't be.
I knew only one guy who smelled like that, but there is no way.
I mean, no.
I squeeze my eyes shut, afraid to look. It can not be him. I refuse to believe it.
Other people could have that smell, right? Right?!
I feel him stir and my eyes spring open.
'Please don't let it be him, please, please, please,' that's all I could think.
I felt him lift himself up onto his elbow and held my breath. His arm comes into my sight range, and I let out a breath that sounds like a sob.
He jumps and I curl into myself, trying to hide beneath the hotel bed's cover. Oh no. Not good. It has to be him.
His long fingers grab my arm and I roll over, giving up, looking him right in the eyes.
His blue eyes widen until they resemble plates. I look away.
"Oh fuck!" Shouts Ron.
I put my face in my hands and nod. Oh fuck is right.
After a short, uncomfortable, disbelieving silence, I glance at him through my fingers.
"Ummm, morning?" I say questioningly.
He just stares.
And a part of me thinks he looks sexy.
Fuck. This is not good.