One More Night
Oliver slumped against the bar counter, throwing back a shot of firewhiskey angrily. Puddlemere had lost the last game they had played and it was killing him. His girlfriend left him for someone who "cared more about her than Quidditch" and his house felt empty with just himself in there.
As he set his shot glass down on the granite with a 'clink', a scantily-dressed woman sat on the bar stool next to him. She wore a black lace mask that only served to emphasize the deep green of her eyes. Her tousled blonde hair fell down to her shoulders, begging for Oliver to reach out and lace his fingers through it.
The woman was unbelievably sexy in his eyes. "Can I buy you a drink?" Oliver asked with a half-smirk. Might as well enjoy being single.
She smirked back, barely glancing at him as she shook her hair to cascade down her back. "Rum and coke, if you have it." She told the bartender, ignoring his offer completely.
Oliver grinned. She was hard to get, definitely. "What brings someone as sexy as you here?" He couldn't tell if it were the alcohol talking, or if he had gained some of that confidence that Benjy was always talking about.
"Cute, but I'm afraid you're going to have to try harder if you want me." She rolled her eyes with a smile, taking the drink and sipping it down slowly.
"Who says I want you?" Oliver shot back, motioning to the bartender for another shot.
The woman laughed briefly as she set the glass down gently. "Is that the best you have, Wood? I expected better from a famous Quidditch player."
Oliver grinned, offering the shot glass to her to toast. "Cheers, love. How about this," He leant in to murmur in her ear, "Meet me outside in five minutes if you're interested." With that, he drank the amber liquid and set the glass down before walking out of the pub.
She was pressed up against the wall, her legs wrapped around Oliver's waist as their tongues battled for dominance. His hands snaked down her arms to her hips, forcing their bodies closer together. Her breath was hot against his face when they pulled away to catch their breath.
"No turning back." Oliver murmured, pressing hurried kisses against her neck. She threw her head back, groaning as he touched her.
"No turning back." She repeated, unbuttoning the first button of his shirt.
And that was all it took for Oliver. He fumbled for the doorknob to his bedroom, slamming his lips against hers again. The smell of her skin was intoxicating; her touch ignited his nerves and sent shivers down his spine. When he finally managed to open the door, he threw her onto the king-sized bed and clambered on after her.
Oliver pulled his shirt off, briefly amazed by how quickly she had managed to unbutton it. "I want you." He said huskily before kissing down her skin to her dress. Oliver let his hands explore the small of her back, unzipping it hurriedly.
The thought suddenly struck him, she was beautiful. Of course, he thought she was incredibly sexy but it never crossed his mind that she was beautiful. She was somewhat of a glorified hooker, but it didn't bother him. "You sure you want to do this?" He asked quietly, placing his body over hers.
She nodded, taking a deep breath before reaching up and kissing him roughly. "I'm ready."
Oliver groaned quietly, shifting in his bed. The sunlight from the open window danced merrily on his face, as if mocking him. It took a second for him to realize that there was someone in bed with him. He reached over and untied the satin ribbon that held the mask on.
As it fell off, a rush of feelings came over him. The girl that lay curled up in his bed was the one girl that had haunted his dreams.
"Katie." Oliver sat up, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in his head. If you had told him six years ago that he'd wake up with her in his bed (and naked at that), he would've laughed. It was amazing that he had even manned up enough to talk to her in her first year. Back then, Katie Bell had been a goddess. Just one of the beauties that roamed the halls of Hogwarts.
Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at the wall for a second before she sat up abruptly. "My mask." She reached for it, her cheeks flushing a pale red. Katie got off the bed, grabbing all her clothes that lay discarded on the floor.
"Katie, please. Stay." Oliver grabbed her arm, pulling her into his embrace.
In his seventh year, he had her for one amazing, blissful hour. But she had left before he could wake up and he wasn't going to let her go again.
Whenever Oliver returned home from work, he always found her cooking for him. It was perfect. She was perfect. But he craved her more and more and it scared him. Oliver Wood was in love with her. Someone so perfect and amazing… That could leave him at any time she wanted.
So he came back one day, another woman attached to his lips. Katie watched the pair from the kitchen quietly, switching the stove off with a flick of her fingers. She was only deluding herself, she thought. He never wanted her, not in his last year and certainly not now.
She gathered her things from around the apartment, chucking the notes he had written to her into the trash before leaving.
Oliver lay in bed with the brunette, his lips trailing down her body with excruciating slowness. He searched for Katie's scent amidst the perfume, but it was gone from the bedsheets. When he moved up to the woman's body, it didn't click for a split second when he saw a pair of brown eyes looking back at him.
As she ghosted her fingers over his skin, he found himself wishing that it were Katie's fingers touching him, her lips on his. But she was an angel, and he couldn't destroy her perfection again.
He didn't deserve her, and she didn't want him.
But it never stopped him from waking up the next morning and wishing with all his might that it would be Katie lying in his arms.