"Ryan," we both jumped at the same time. I hit my shoulder against the wall. Oliver spared me one glance before darting towards the loo. I shook my head and followed him. Ryan was sitting on the floor, crying. Cosmetics, brushes and broken perfume bottles were strewed around him. Oliver went on his knees and cuddled him up against his chest. I followed his example and stroked his hair as he cried.
"Are you hurt?" I asked softly, looking around me for any signs of blood. He shook his head and dabbed at his eyes. They were red. "Do you feel strong enough to take a bathe then? Oliver will fetch you Corey's rubber duck."
Ryan blinked and pushed Oliver away. "What's a rubber duck?"
"It's this little ducky that can keep you company while you take a bath," I leaned in so my nose almost touched his. With one finger, I tickled his belly and he giggled. Grinning, I leaned back up and saw that Oliver too was smiling. My cheeks went from zero to four-hundred degrees. "Um, so bath time?"
Oliver left and brought back Corey's rubber duck collection. He had about three ducklings and one mamma duck. He had explained to me that as a child he used to love playing with them and couldn't be parted from them, even if he didn't take bubble baths anymore. Once the water had reached the proper temperature, I dumped some Bubble Flo on it and the ducklings. Ryan jumped into the tub, spreading rainbow colored bubbles the size of bludgers around the room. I watched him as he entertained himself with them and began cleaning the mess. How he had managed to wreck every single one of my perfume bottles was beyond me.
The temperature in the room was increasing. I peeled my jumper off to keep myself from sweating, staying in only a white shirt. Ryan was having so much fun I had to interrupt my cleaning and wrestle him to get some shampoo on his hair.
I had just finished vanishingall the broken pieces of glass I could find when someone knocked on the door. "Everything alright?" I asked Oliver who was standing by the hallway. He had changed clothes and taken a quick shower by the looks of him. He was scratching the back of his head and avoiding my eyes.
"I made some hot chocolate and sandwiches for when your two are done," his eyes travelled down from my face and a smirk appeared on his mouth. "And by the way, your shirt is transparent," he said before walking out.
Embarrassed, I looked down. Indeed, in my attempts at getting Ryan's locks cleaned up, I had splashed enough water to render the white fabric transparent. The fact that I was wearing a lace magenta bra that popped like a bunny amongst death eaters wasn't much help. I sighed, torn between feelings I'd rather not explore and some sense of content knowing that Oliver's mood was back up.
I dwelled in that line of thought while I urged Ryan to hurry up. Something had changed in the way Oliver acted. When I moved in in the late summer, he had been morose and quiet. He was bickering with me again and was making use of his old charming brand of sarcasm. He was also leaving the house for things other than training, matches and publicity events.
He was dating someone.
My boss.
A gloom settled on me after that crashing realisation. Could seeing Kathryn had made all the difference, turned him from a sullen state back to the Oliver Wood I had grown up with? I helped Ryan dry himself up and get back into his magically-dried clothes. He rushed out of the loo and towards the kitchen when I told him Oliver had made hot chocolate. I stayed back cleaning, attacking each remaining bubble with a vengeance, feeling more desperate with every burst of soap.
When I left the loo, Oliver and Ryan were eating their sandwiches. The telly was on again. I stood by in the hallway, just watching them. Oliver was laughing and pointing at the silly muggle cartoon; there was mayonnaise on his jaw. His shoulders were down and relaxed, not tensed as if he were to be attacked at any moment. The lines that formed around his eyes when he smiled were back, as were the dimples on his cheeks.
He noticed me staring and looked up. His chocolate brown eyes rooted me to the spot, momentarily robbing me of breath. Ryan said something to him, but he didn't reply. My heartbeat accelerated to the point I was certain he'd be able to hear it. I tore my gaze from his eyes, feeling prickles running up and down my spine, and walked towards to my room. I could feel the burn of Oliver's eyes on my back before I snuck inside.
I rested against the door, listening to nothing but my sprinting heart. My legs felt wobbly and there was a large congregation of ants running from my throat to my toes. What is with me? I banged my head silently against the wall, but there was no immediate sensation change, expect an added dizziness. I walked towards my bed and simply stood there, looking at it, my hands at the edge of my shirt as if I were to take it off and throw it against a wall.
Oliver and I were friends. Friends don't make each other feel like they have a sugar rush. Or like the only thing keeping their insides from jumping everywhere at once was their skin. Friends didn't almost kiss at the entrance of the hall. When friend's hands brushed against the other, it didn't send shivers to every part of their bodies. Friends didn't feel jealousy when their friends dated other people. Friends felt happy, joyous not murderous.
Maybe Oliver and I aren't friends.
There was a faint noise of something knowing on wood. Maybe Ryan spilled his drink over. I felt dizzy and disoriented; my eyesight blurred. There was another faint sound somewhere in the distance, as if it were happening in a different lifetime.
I closed my eyes.
My breathing had become shallow. Friends didn't imagine friends' hand brushing against the back of their neck. A single finger trailing down my spine; warmth breath giving me shivers; a bottomless pit inside the stomach where thousands of butterfly wings were fluttering. A hand grasping my hip, fingers drawing circles upwards as it slowly removes my shirt. Goosebumps on my skin as cold air and warm fingers battle across my belly.
Another hand nestling in my hair, pulling my head back. Butterfly kisses on my neck. As small moan escaping my lips. Giggling in my ear.
And trailing upwards, playing with the edge of the bra. Shirt comes off. Heartbeats increase, threaten to burst out of the ribcage. Hand rests on breast, massaging it.
Another moan.
"If I had known you wanted me like this, I would've told St. Mungo's off," my eyes sprung open. My body went rigid; my heartbeat didn't slow. Breathing hard with an open mouth, I turned my head to look over my shoulder.
Hazel eyes.
Short dark hair; hand intertwined in my hair; the other one slowly pulling my bra off to expose a nipple.
I jumped away from his touch, my head screaming Ethan Ethan Ethan. He stared at me with a confused look and a small lopsided grin. "Did I scare you?"
"I no – yes- I um, sorry, I'm distracted."
He laughed and cut off the space between us, placing a soft kiss on my blushed cheek. "I'm told I have that effect on woman."
I tried to laugh, but it sounded fake and raw. Ethan didn't seem to notice. His lips were attached to my throat, leaving long trailing kisses along the sides. His hand had gripped my hips, rocking them forward. I looked down at the back of his head, feeling a wave of nausea. "Ethan."
He took that for encouragement and unclipped my bra. I gasped when his mouth began moving downwards, frozen. My limbs didn't know how to respond to the erratic commands of my mind. "Ethan – stop." Each part of me he touched became immobile, numb. Some Slytherin self-preservation kicked in, and I tried to keep him away. "Ryan is outside and-"
There was a knock on my door. I jumped, an outbreak of self-hatred and shame washing over me. Ethan had straightened; he looked like Christmas had come soon. "What is it?" I yelled, putting my hands on his shoulder and walking away, trying to clasp my bra back on.
The door opened then closed again. I bit my lip. "Willow's here," Oliver's voice sounded constricted, and I knew that he had glimpsed me half undressed.
"Tell her I'll be right out," there was no answer.
"You're right; maybe we should continue this later, hm?" Ethan said, placing a kiss on my shoulder that made me shiver and not in a good way. "I'll let you get dressed," he walked out of my room with a renewed vigor in his step.
I fell down on my bed, shaking. I wanted to scream and yell and maybe throw something against the wall. But I couldn't when I had to go out and face Willow, Flint, Ethan and Oliver. I hunched over, forcing my mouth shut. Blood swamped to my head. I had to face Ethan after I had let him make me feel powerless – and I had to face Oliver, with whatever that entailed.
How could I be so stupid?
There was a soft knock on my door. I didn't dare answer for fear a scream would come out. It opened. "Merlin, Lisa, what happened?" Willow closed the door shut behind her and walked over towards me, kneeling before me. She clasped my hands and peeled my fingers out of the tight fist they had gotten into. I looked up and a small sob escaped my lips. "Did he do something? Should I murder him?"
I shook my head. "I don't think it's going to work out between us."
She stood up and sat down beside me, caressing the top of my head. "He does seem like a git if you ask me. Want me to dump him for you?"
I chuckled. "No, but thanks for the offer."
"What did he do?"
I racked my brain. Yes, Ethan had taken a liberty without announcing himself – or maybe he did and I was too caught up thinking it was Oliver's hands rummaging through my body, not his. Or maybe I was just startled. It had been enjoyable-for a while. Maybe I just wasn't ready to take things that far. "I guess I just need time."
Willow stared at me in a way that I supposed most concerned mothers would, but she didn't say anything. Like most good mothers, she'd let me figure things out by myself. "Marcus and I brought some food over, get dressed and come out." I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself. Willow threw me one last look before exiting.
I searched my wardrobe for the least suggestive outfit I could manage. I settled for an old pair of dark trousers and Adrian's even older Slytherin Quidditch jumper. His name sewn on the back was fraying and it hung loose and limp around my body. I took a deep breath before exiting.
Willow, Flint, and Ryan were sitting around the sofa, chatting. Flint kept sending snarky comments towards Oliver, but he didn't seem to be responding. He was lounging on the lone armchair, staring at the wall. Ethan was waiting by my door. He blinked at my outfit.
"I think I'm getting a cold," I lied and snuggled closer into Adrian's clothes, faking a cough. I walked past him to sit next to Flint. Ethan perched himself on the sofa's arm.
It was by far, the most awkward half hour of my life. Oliver left after the first five minutes, saying something about sleep. I avoided looking at him, least my urge to fling myself at him resurface. Willow was trying to keep appearances up, but even Flint seemed to catch up that something wasn't right. They left, both throwing me uneasy glances. Willow whispered in my ear to owl her if anything happened.
"So did you enjoy your day as a foster mother?" Ethan asked, slipping to a space next to me on the sofa. He alone seemed to think everything was going perfect. I tried not to remember what happened in my room.
"It was very tiring," I faked a yawn, covering my mouth with my hand before dabbing at my eyes. Maybe if I pretended I was exhausted he would leave and then-
I shook my head. Thoughts involving Oliver and his bedroom were too tricky to go into.
Ethan chuckled. "I can see, since you haven't bothered to shower or dress decently."
"What's wrong with my outfit?" I crossed my hands across my chest.
Ethan was playing with a dirty strand of my hair, twirling it in his finger. "You are wearing Pucey's jumper. I have to say, I'm surprised you have any of his clothing."
"He gave it to me," I said feeling defensive. Was he going to accuse me of stealing Adrian's old things? I wanted to let him know that I also had one of his Puddlemere shirts from he was still just a reserve but he interrupted me.
"He gave it to you?" he had stopped playing with my hair. His tone sounded venomous. I nodded. "And you accepted it?"
"Clearly."
"Elizabeth, I'm going to ask you this once and I want an honest answer," he straightened up and faced me. "Is there anything I should be concerned about in regards to Adrian Pucey?"
It took me a couple of blinks to understand what he was saying. Adrian and I? I wanted to laugh and die laughing. He had it all wrong, didn't he? "Well?"
"You really are a jealous git."
I watched as his face heated up. "Is that a yes?"
"No."
"Then?"
"Adrian and I have never as much as snogged," I said and stood up. I didn't have to fake a yawn this time. "I need some sleep." Ethan's eyes perked up. "Alone. Ryan's tired me up – kid has too much energy for his own good." Ethan stood up and cupped my cheek. He tried placing a kiss on my lips, but I moved my head away. "I think I may be getting a cold too."
"I'm a healer, I can manage," he tried to kiss me again but I pushed him away. His eyes flashed with anger for a moment, before they abated. "Alright then. I'll see you on Friday?"
"What's happening on Friday?"
Ethan sighed and run a hand through his hair. "You agreed to go on a double date with your boss, remember? You were really upset about it, but you said you couldn't get out of it so-"
Damn. I had forgotten that after Kathryn had cornered me on Thursday, asking me if Oliver ever spoke about her (for she had figured out we lived in the same apartment) I had agreed to go out together so I could observe Oliver and tell her whether he knew they were soul mates.
"Of course, I'll see you on Friday."
When Friday arrived, I wanted to Avada Kedavra myself.
"Why are you even asking me?" Adrian was laying on my bed, toying with my alarm clock and looking as bored as I was angry. I shoved the two dresses, both black, in his face. He took them from me and laid them aside. "I thought you said you were doing to dump the healer. Why do you care?"
I threw him an angry glare and went back to my closet. Katrhyn had left me leave early, saying that I needed the time to prepare for tonight. Apparently, black under eye bags weren't acceptable attire at Witch Weekly. I groaned in frustration. The floor was littered with dresses, blouses and trousers and I had yet to find something suitable.
What kind of outfit states 'I'd rather be dissected than be here'?
"Let me see if I get this straight," Adrian had gotten up and was beginning to sort through the pile of clothes on the floor. "Bloke tries to get to second base after like three months of dating, and you freak out?"
"Has that ever happened to you?"
He seemed to consider the thought. "No, but I get your point. I would freak out too if a bloke tried to get to second base – first base actually." I threw him a trouser. "Alright, alright. I suppose yes, I've snogged plenty of birds I wish I hadn't."
"But I felt paralyzed, and like there were cockroaches roaming through my body," I shuddered.
Adrian crooked an eyebrow. "And the fact that you almost snogged Wood had nothing to do with the sudden distaste for you boyfriend?"
"I shouldn't have told you that."
"What are good friends for?" he plopped on the floor and sat cross-legged. I followed his hint and abandoned my search for tonight's outfit.
"D' you think Kathryn will see right through me if I tell her I got mauled by goblins on my way to Gringotts?"
He snorted. "Why, you don't want to hurt her feelings?"
"Don't be thick. I don't give a donkey's tail about her feelings. This is about keeping my job!" it was also the reason why I hadn't finished things with Ethan yet. Or so I told myself. But if I showed up to a double date boyfriend-less…. Well, it might defeat the purpose.
"And also investigating whether Oliver may be serious about her?" I threw him another pair of trousers and sat back so I could sulk. It was going to be hard enough to pretend everything between Ethan and I was going perfectly when I had ruthlessly avoided him all week and was planning the best way to end things. Let alone have to pretend like I wasn't bothered that my go-getter shinning blond boss was caressing Oliver's thigh beneath the table. "I'll take that as a yes."
"I hate you."
"No you don't. You'd be even more clouded if it wasn't for me," Adrian stood up and offered me his hand. I gave it a disdainful look before accepting it. Once I was vertical, Adrian held to my upper arms. "Whatever happens, just remember that Kathryn's a cow, Ethan is just another fly you need to squat, and Oliver is madly in love with you, he's just too dense to see it."
I smiled. "And most importantly," he pushed some hair behind my ear. "You are a ruddy Slytherin and in the end, that's all that counts."