The Lives They Live
Drabble One:
Forgotten: Marcus Flint
There was a pause. It was so short no one noticed. No one but himself, of course. He halted for a mere second, hovering in midair on only a piece of wood.
Fear pounded through his veins as he continued on, pushing himself forward. Marcus Finch wasn't even a big fan of flying, in fact he hated it. Soaring through air basically unsupported terrified the life out of him. But his father had seemed to have forgotten that when he wrote to him a few months ago demanding he join the Quidditch team.
And Marcus only wanted to make his father happy – not matter how fruitless the mission was.
He continued on, heading into the night, angling his body so he went down, almost swooping towards the ground and not flailing for once.
This was the first time he had not fallen off his broom mid-flight. The first time his feet had touched solid ground and he only wanted to go back onto the broom and do it again.
Maybe he could do it. Maybe he would join the Quidditch team after all.
ISHOULDN'TBEDOINGTHISISHOULDN'TBEDOINGTHIS ( I really shouldn't be)
This is for the 'Character Diversity Bootcamp' on the HPFC forum, I have to write fifty drabbles/one-shots/whatevers on fifty different characters based on the given prompts.
I'm screwed bby