Stupid Lovely Cliché's!
When we recall Christmas past, we usually find that the simplest things-not the great occasions-give off the greatest glow of happiness.
-- Bob Hope
Her shoes tapped an angry beat against the stone floors, her pleated uniform skirt flitting about her knees. She groaned in frustration and ran a hand through her deep red tendrils, before quickly putting her hand by her side, cursing herself for doing something so typically…him.
She looked around making sure no one was lingering in the deserted corridor before skirting over to one side, looking up and quickly skirting back to the other side. She did this about four and a half times before stomping her foot and wrinkling her nose, giving out an immature shriek of annoyance.
"All right there Evans?" She spun quickly, making her slightly dizzy; she had to pause before looking at the person speaking. Her mouth went dry and her skin seemed to tingle…with disgust she was sure.
'So bloody proud' she thought to herself as she glanced at him. His hair stuck up in a windswept fashion, it looked soft and silky. His lithe body was casually leaning against the stone wall, a look of amusement pulling at his lips. His hazel eyes sparkled behind his round glasses perched at the end of his long straight nose.
"How long have you been leaning there Potter?" she squeaked out, embarrassment coloring her cheeks bright red.
"Long enough to see you flit around like a bloody idiot," he laughed, a deep chuckle that sent her back chilling, from hate no doubt.
"Ugh, I hate you so much Potter!" She turned on her heel, marching away from him, she could feel his gaze on her back but she continued on towards the common room.
"Why are you running around in deserted corridors anyway, lovely Lily Evans?" She could feel his smirk down to her toes.
"Isn't that obvious Potter, or are you really that bind?!" her small hand swatted at the offending object that continued to float above her head.
"Need assistance with that?" he asked cheekily.
They had reached the portrait hole, and after seeing the two who were approaching the fat lady had promptly put her fingers in her ears.
"Not from you Potter…and don't get near me or you'll get stuck too," she warned backing away from his approaching form.
"Now wouldn't that be cozy?" he said grinning at her, and she lost her breath with disgust.
"Potter I will hex your balls off, now get away!" She spat, panic widening her emerald colored eyes as her back hit a wall.
He was too close now, and she could feel the enchanted mistletoe above her release its magic, securing Potter in front of her. His body was so close to hers and she couldn't breathe or think, due to…hate, she was sure of it.
"Only trying to help," he muttered, his face was so close, his breath puffing against her lips.
His hand slid along her cheek to cup the back of her head, his fingers tangling into her silky curls. His other arm curled around her waist pulling her small curvy body to his tall form. He slanted his lips against hers in a light kiss, which sent chills racing to every part of her body.
Her limp arms flew to his shoulders, in order to hold herself up, her knees had mysteriously turned to jelly. He was placing feather light kisses on her lips, which slowly turned into longer lingering kisses. His tongue touched her lip in permission and she opened her mouth in invitation. The messy haired man growled and pushed her against the wall, his brain no longer lucid, kissing her harshly and with all passion, nipping and sucking.
They didn't notice the mistletoe float away to bother someone else, and they only pulled away when their lungs were burning for air. He rested his forehead on hers, and breathed against her lips, they were both heaving for air.
A smirk curled at his lips, "did that help with your little problem?" He said with arrogance.
"Potter you are such a prat," she slipped from his grip and disappeared into the common room. He was left in the hallway, pleased and confused.
'One day I will have Lily Evans,' he vowed.
He didn't know it would only be six months later.