Bewitched
"Oh my God, you look just like that guy." I think that might be the lamest thing that's ever come out of my mouth, but since the only thing that's been in my mouth tonight has been vodka, it's really no surprise.
"That guy?" he echoes. Two tiny horizontal lines form above the bridge of his nose, and they're so charming I can't help but reach out and touch them.
"You know, the guy from Harry Potter. The dead one."
"Voldemort?"
I start to laugh but it comes out more of a grunt. Damn vodka. "No, silly. The guy I'm thinking about has a nose." I run my finger down his bridge, and somehow it ends up right next to his mouth. Slowly, he drags in a breath.
"Potter, Weasley, Longbottom..." He reels off a list of characters and I find myself entranced. This guy is seriously cute. It's not only the pretty face and dark, thick hair, but the fact he's a Potter geek that bewitches me. What I thought was going to be a dull office party has turned out to be anything but.
Vodka tends to have that effect on me.
"No," I say, taking a step toward him. "The good-looking one who wins the cup." We're standing so close it shocks me and I start to wobble. The guy wraps an arm around my waist, catching me before I can tumble.
"Cedric Diggory." He leans his face down to mine, close enough for me to feel, as well as hear, his words. It sends a shiver down my spine.
"That's him." I reach out and grab his shoulder, then stand on my tiptoes, whispering in his ear. "I cried when he died."
"So did I." He presses his lips right below my ear, and every cell in my body takes note.
It only takes the slightest of movements for him to slide his lips until they reach the corner of my mouth. He lingers there, and my breath catches in my throat. I really, really want to make out with this guy, but we're in the middle of a stupid office party. Even through my vodka-muddied thoughts, I can tell this isn't a good idea.
"You want to get a drink somewhere?" he murmurs. Not only is he insanely good looking, he can also read my mind. The guy is perfection in a business suit.
"Where did you have in mind?"
"There's this great little bar in the village. The fire's always lit, the butterbeer's always flowing..."
I get the giggles, and he holds me closer, enough to feel the tightness of his muscles beneath his suit jacket.
"You want to call a cab, or are you going to let me ride your broomstick?"
A throaty chuckle escapes from his mouth. "Christ, you're adorable. Shall we go?"
He wraps his hand around mine and leads me through the partying crowds. We duck beneath waving hands and dodge dancing feet, but not once does his hold waver, and I think I've fallen under his spell.
Written by: Chocaholic123 (Judge)
Prompt: (313) I told him I'd ride his broomstick if he let me call him Harry Potter and draw a lightning bolt on his forehead.
