FUCKING MOTHER FUCKER FUCK ASS BITCHMONKIES. I HAVE TRIED 254254 TIMES TO UPLOAD THIS SHIT THE LAST TWO FUCKING DAYS AND JUST NOW I SAVED IT AS A .TXT FILE AND IT DECIDES TO WORK. WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH MY WORDPERFECT AND MICROSOFT WORD? GODDAMN I'M SO FUCKING MAD.
Maybe I should change the rating to M now because of that. Now I have to go through and fix all the italics and shit. Jeeze, what I do for you guys, haha.
Exciting Stage in Katie's Career
Liam Broughton
NEW YORK CITY, shouts Katie Bell's T-shirt in big, bold letters, declaring her to be a woman of the world - but then her socks sport images of muggle cartoon character Scooby Doo. And don't ask the youthful-looking 18-year-old to smile for a photo; she likes the mean and moody look.
Thoughtful and witty, the quirky young quidditch star approaches interviews with a detached bafflement, giving the impression she has yet to figure out why anyone would want to write about her, although she's aware that they do.
In the Three Broomsticks, over a butterbeer and sandwich lunch, she starts off revealing that she hasn't been on a broom in nearly two years, and she is happy to admit to being nervous as she muses on the fact that soon will be her world premiere during Puddlemere's next game against the Chudley Cannons in late June.
"It's a bit of a shock, really," she confesses. "I actually grew up in a normal muggle household, pondering possible careers of normal people, like becoming a doctor or an artist - I'm really into art - but then I went a few years playing quidditch at Hogwarts and thought, 'Yeah! This is for me! This is what I want to do.' And then I quit playing, and when I graduated, it all kind of went downhill."
A two-year broom sabbatical may indeed seem extreme for any serious player intent on forging a career in the business, but then Bell has been busy. Sort of. If her face looks vaguely familiar, the chances are you've seen one of the many tabloid pictures of her out-and-about with the one and only quidditch hunk Oliver Wood.
In fact, any young lass under the age of 18 is unlikely to have to think twice before telling you that Bell is the roommate of Oliver Wood, who was just 18 years old himself when he was signed onto Puddlemere United nearly two years ago. Wood has broken many records over the last few months, including...
I quickly scanned the rest of the article and dropped the Daily Prophet onto my bed. I had gotten too excited when I had seen a picture of Oliver and I smiling and waving on the front page. Not even halfway through and they were already obsessing about Oliver, without a mention of my name throughout the rest of the piece.
"And then they wonder why I'm so confused about wanting to be interviewed," I muttered to myself, taking a sip of my hot chocolate.
My owl, Peggy, hooted to get my attention, and I handed her a treat for bringing me the Sunday paper. She let me pat her head before disappearing through my opened window.
I snuggled under my covers, unable to push myself up out of the bed. The signing party had been the night before, and I had been up all hours of the night shaking hands and mingling with many of the famous quidditch players who had shown up, including people on other teams. I had had one too many fire whiskey's, and my head was pounding, telling me never to drink alcohol again.
I heard the door to Oliver's room open, and I could hear his bare feet pad along the hardwood floors of the hall as he made his way to the kitchen. He clambered through drawers and cabinets filled with silverware and pots and pans before finally finding what he was looking for.
Oliver and I had pretty much avoided each other the rest of the week – or ever since 'the incident,' as I like to call it. We'd both gone out separately every day, and sometimes I'd come home at night to hear him in his room with Claudette, doing whatever it was he did that made her call out his name so loudly. I'd tip-toe to my room and try to block out the moaning and groaning and go to sleep.
The shrill ring of the telephone nearly gave me a heart attack, and I placed my mug down on the night stand beside my bed and stood up. I leaned against the wall as a strange dizzy sensation came over me, and left the safety of my room to find the phone.
By the time I had made it to the kitchen, which was the only room in our flat with a telephone, Oliver had already answered it, holding it up to his ear with his shoulder while he stirred something in a pot over the stove.
"Yeah, hold on, I'll get her," he said, and held the phone away from his face. "Katie!"
"I'm here," I said, grabbing onto the counter's edge. The smell of whatever he was cooking made me want to vomit, and I felt a tingling in my cheeks that I hadn't noticed before. Suddenly, it was burning hot.
"Are you feeling okay?" Oliver asked, as he handed me the phone. I wasn't, but I waved my hand at him, telling him to leave me alone, and placed the receiver up to my ear.
"Hello?"
"Hey! Katie!" said a cheery and familiar voice.
"Hey Ange."
"I was just calling to let you know that Fred and I were back in town."
"That's nice. How did your trip go?"
"Oh, it was amazing. I've never been to America before, and it was definitely something else! Everything's very new and modern over there, and where we went in New York, most of the muggles and magic people knew of each other! Isn't that crazy?"
"That is strange. I went to New York with my father a few years back. I loved it."
"So how was the singing party? It was last night, wasn't it? I'm sorry I couldn't be there for it. I nagged Fred the whole time about being back for the ceremony and he took his precious time."
"It was nice. I couldn't believe the stuff they did just for me."
"Yes, it was quite strange when Oliver and I were signed, also. Hey, how 'bout you, Alicia and I go out today. You know, just us girls. We could go shopping and out to eat and we could talk bad about the boys all day long."
"I'm gonna have to take a rain check. I'm not feeling too well today."
As soon as the words left my mouth, Oliver looked over his shoulder at me.
"I'm sorry to hear that. Maybe tomorrow then, Kat?"
"Sure, tomorrow."
"Alright then. I'll talk to you later!"
"Bye."
I placed the receiver back onto the cradle and sat down on a stool at the counter. I hadn't wanted to be rude, but the more Ange said, the more my headache worsened, and I just wanted to yell at her to 'shut up.' I put my head down, placing my cheek against the cool marble counter top, and closed my eyes.
"You look like shit, Katie."
"Thanks, Oliver. That's the first thing a girl likes to hear when she gets up in the morning."
He scoffed at my sarcasm and came around behind me. He put his hands on my shoulders, and as he started to massage, I felt every muscle in my body constrict.
"You're incredibly tense," he said, his hands moving their way down my back.
"It's because you're touching me," I said matter-of-factly.
"What? Why was there emphasis on the 'you'?"
"You know why, Oliver. Don't act like you don't. All of this kissing business you've been doing, it makes me nervous."
"Nervous? Why can't two best friends of the opposite sex give each other a kiss every once in a while and still remain platonic? I don't see anything wrong with it."
There was so much I wanted to say to him, but I didn't feel like arguing. He acted as though he had given me a little peck on the mouth, when in fact, his tongue had been very active with mine and his hands had been down on my ass and up on my chest.
And didn't the fact that two people had kissed mean that they didn't have a platonic relationship anymore?
Oliver's hands moved to my cheeks, and then to my forehead. "Merlin, Katie, you're burning up!"
Really? I didn't know, I thought sarcastically.
He opened a drawer and found an old muggle thermometer. He rinsed it off and put it in my mouth. We waited for few minutes, and then he pulled it out. It read 102.2. He rinsed it off again and put it back where he had found it, then rummaged around inside a cabinet where we kept all of our potions and herbs and pulled out a flask full of a purple liquid and poured it in a glass with some water.
"Drink this," he ordered. "It'll help you cool off a bit."
He tended to the mush he was making at the stove while I choked down the horrible tasting liquid. It felt as though it were burning my esophagus as it went down and settled like a brick into my stomach.
"Mmm, good, eh?" he asked. I nearly chucked the glass at his face as he smirked at me. I wasn't in the mood to be smirked at.
I went into the livingroom and sank down on the couch. Little Jake jumped up onto it and curled up in my lap. I scratched behind his ears and turned on the tv. I watched the muggle news for a while and fell asleep.
When I woke up, it was dark outside and the tv was still on, casting a blue glow onto everything in the dark livingroom. I cursed at myself for sleeping the day away and sat up on my elbows. Jake was lying in a little ball at my feet, and he lifted his head up and yawned when I shifted positions.
There was movement on the floor beside the couch and I looked down to see Oliver. He was lying on his back asleep, in nothing but a pair of shorts. His arm was behind his head, giving me full view of his hairy armpit. I giggled softly, not wanting to wake him up, and scooted to the edge of the couch where I could lay looking down at him for a while.
His mouth was slightly parted with one side curved up a little in what looked to be a smile. I grinned. He looked so peaceful and angelic. It's amazing how being asleep softens the features of any person. I'm sure even Voldemort would seem cute and vulnerable with his eyes closed and his mind caught in a dream.
Oliver's chest rose and fell with each deep breath he took, and I caught myself unable to take my eyes away from it. His body was perfect - not too muscular, but not scrawny, either. He was lithe. My eyes traveled down to his stomach, and then followed the thin trail of hair that started under his belly button and disappeared below the waistline of his pants...
I slapped my forehead. "Get yourself together!"
I turned my attention back to his face and reached a hand out to smooth the hair back from his forehead. But my hand lingered over his cheek for a minute, and for some reason I felt my face heating up. I didn't even notice his eyes open.
"Hey," he said, looking up at me and smiling.
Merlin! He caught me with my hand on his cheek! And still, I couldn't let go!
"Do you feel any better?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.
"Yeah, thanks for letting me sleep."
"No problem."
I pulled my hand away and pushed myself as far back on the couch as I could so that he couldn't see me blushing. Not that he would have been able to anyway, since the only light in the room was coming from the tv, but still, I felt better being out of his sight. He sat up and rested his arms on the couch in front of me.
"Look, Katie... I'm sorry about how I've been acting. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable around me, so I'll stop with the... with the... you know..." He paused to gesture between the two of us. "Sometimes I just find you irresistibly attractive and I get caught up in the moment and... well, I'm sorry."
My mind was stuck on "irresistibly attractive" and it took me a moment to realize he was waiting for me to respond.
"Only sometimes?" I asked, pouting.
"Oh, all right. All the time." He smiled and pulled me into a hug. Jake, not wanting to be left out, wedged his way between us and barked.
IF THERE'S ANY LIKE... WEIRD SYMBOLS AND CRAP, BLAME IT ON FUCKING FANFICTION... DOT NET,STUPID ASS BITCHTES... WHAT THE FUCK MAN. Oh, and you can blame any spelling mistakes on them too, while you're atit. Haha... alright... I think I'm okay now. Anyways...
Sorry for the long wait, guys! I know I hate it when it takes forever for my favorite stories to be updated, but a lot of stuff has been going on for me. I went up to Washington D.C. because my grandpa lives up there and I watched a guy climb over the fence in front of the White House and pee on the lawn. I gave him a dollar when he came back. No police or secret servicemen saw him! It was great!
Also, there are a couple new pictures for this chapter, but nothing really important, like Oliver's body or them hugging or anything, HAHA! Just silly things that I felt like drawing. And the newspaper article was actually an article written about Sean Biggerstaff that I changed to fit. I know it's plagarism and all, but when I was reading it, I was like OMG this could work for MY story, so I stoled it. Stolendeded it. Bad Delilah!
