I Apparate away from Abby's rehearsal dinner the moment she gives me permission to leave. I feel guilty for leaving early, but I need to do it. I'm not sure where this sudden rush of single-minded energy came from, but now that I've got it, I'm not letting it go anywhere and I'm not letting myself second-guess it.

I'm, quite simply, done letting anyone else or anything else tell me how I'm meant to live my life. I'm not going to keep quiet and let things pass me by that could be good and right and real just because I'm scared of the reaction of a sexist industry. I've had enough of feeling like I'm at the mercy of the National League - because I'm not.

I'm my own goddamn person and they'll just have to fucking deal with it.

The doorman at Rajhi's apartment complex knows my face by heart, so he waves me over to the elevator without a second thought, programming it to take me to Rajhi's floor automatically.

I don't even think about what I'm going to say before I start banging on his door, and I briefly think to myself that a couple of my cousins would honestly be so proud of the levels of Gryffindor recklessness I'm exhibiting right now.

Meanwhile, I'm starting to entertain the myriad of reasons why acting on impulse might prove to be completely idiotic and come back to bite me in the ass.

Hell, for all I know, he's not even here, or he's brought a girl home from the bar, or -

The door opens, revealing a very confused-looking Rajhi wearing ratty flannel pajama pants and an old Wasps practice jersey. Which effectively strikes out the concern of him having company. This is him with his guard down, the less artfully designed version, absent the persona of his reputation.

"Dom?" I don't miss the way his eyes drop from my face to my body, no doubt noticing the fact that I'm currently in a dress and heels - the complete antithesis to his look right now.

"Hi," I say, a bit too loudly, and I instantly regret not having any sort of plan for this situation. I didn't even think about what I'd open with. "Is now a good time for you?"

His hand jumps to his hair. "Er, yeah, it's a good time for me. But don't you have… I don't know, a wedding thing you're supposed to be at tonight?"

"I left," I tell him.

He arches an eyebrow at that. "You left? I thought you were like, the maid of honour - I didn't think you were allowed to leave."

I shrug, making it seem like a lot less of a big deal than it actually was. "I was there long enough to do all the important things - now they're just eating dinner and drinking."

"Those sound like the most important things," he replies, but he steps back to let me into his flat anyways.

"I just - I had a revelation while I was there, and I needed to come see you."

"Is this about that trick play we were working on yesterday? Because I promise, I'll get it, I just need to work out the - "

"It's not about Quidditch," I say, cutting him off.

"Okay," he replies, drawing out the word.

"Are you over me?"

Merlin, I really should've planned this out better. That's really what I decided to go with? Of all the ways I could kick off this potentially-very-important conversation, and I go with that.

Rajhi is just as thrown off by my abrupt start as I am, and looks at me like he doesn't quite know what I've just said. "What?"

"A few months ago," I elaborate, because it's too fucking late to come up with a better starting note now so I might as well commit to this one, "you told me you liked me, I told you I didn't feel the same way, and you told me you'd find a way to get over me. Did you get over me?"

He completely turns away from me at that, and starts walking towards the kitchen. "I - fuck, Dom, why would you ask me that?"

I follow on his heels like an overeager puppy, feeling only slightly pathetic for doing so. "Just… answer me. Truthfully, please."

He makes a point of not looking back at me. Instead, he grabs a bottle of firewhisky, popping the top off with ease. "You want some?" he asks, his hand hovering over the set of crystal glasses.

"Sure." There's a non-zero chance I will need to get very drunk after this conversation, so I might as well get a head start now in case that potentiality comes to fruition.

I let him pour both glasses and hand one to me before I prod him again. "Giving me alcohol isn't going to make me forget what I asked you."

He sighs, then takes a long sip of whisky. "I told you I would. And I'm trying, but… Merlin, you're not exactly easy to get over, you know?"

A flood of relief launches itself through my veins, and I suddenly feel warm in a way that's not brought on by firewhisky alone.

"Good."

His gaze swings back over to me, and he echoes my words, somewhat disbelievingly. "Good?"

"Yes, good," I confirm. Then, realising that standing in the middle of his kitchen is an extremely awkward venue for this conversation, I ask, "Can we sit down?"

There's a long pause wherein I'm pretty sure Rajhi is questioning my sanity. I don't fully blame him - I'm kind of questioning it at this point as well. "Sure," he eventually answers, gesturing towards the living room.

I take a seat on the couch, and he sits in the adjacent leather chair.

"Remember Alec? The bloke I was dating back when I was at Hogwarts?"

I instantly want to smack myself the moment the words leave my mouth. I am somehow managing to go about every aspect of this conversation in the worst way possible - honestly, leading with my ex-boyfriend? Fucking brilliant move there, Dom.

There's a flash of something unreadable in Rajhi's eyes. "Er, yeah."

"He was at the rehearsal dinner tonight."

Rajhi takes a long sip of his drink before replying with yet another drawn-out, "Okay."

I don't know where he thinks I'm going with this, but it's definitely not where I'm trying to go with it. But hell, I don't even know if I'm going where I'm trying to go with this.

I take a long sip of firewhisky and decide to just say everything at once.

"He brought his girlfriend. And, I don't know, I always just thought that if I ever saw him again - much less with a girl on his arm, looking like the epitome of a perfect love story - I'd remember why I liked him so much, and I'd feel heartbroken over him all over again. And then… I just didn't. I saw how happy Alec looked with his girlfriend and I didn't think about him at all. All I could think about is how badly I wanted to be able to be that happy with you."

Rajhi is frozen in stone, completely expressionless.

I look down at my lap. "I came to the realisation a while ago, actually, that I was wrong when I said I didn't have any feelings for you. Or fuck, maybe I was right at the time, but I sure as hell would be wrong saying that now."

"Why are you telling me this now?"

When I look up at him, the only word I can think of to describe his expression is pained. I wish I could know why he's looking at me like that, what's going on in his head, but absent that, I've got no choice but to keep going and hope that by the time I've said everything I need to, I understand what he's thinking a little bit better.

"Because I knew I'd regret it if I didn't. And I'm aware how shitty it looks that the thing that finally made me realise I should stop holding onto this is my stupid ex-boyfriend, but that's just how it is apparently." I take a deep breath. "But this isn't about him, I promise. It's about me. Seeing him gave me that final little kick that I… I don't know, that I deserve to be happy? Or, at the very least, I owe it to myself to at least try for it, hence… me being here now."

"There's still the matter of the National Team," he replies, his voice stretched thin. For whatever he may believe of what I'm saying, it's clear he doesn't fully trust it. Not yet. "Even if all of that is true, you made it pretty clear that Quidditch takes priority."

"I have recently come to the decision that the National Team has no fucking place to tell me what to do with my personal life, and if they try to, they can get fucked."

I can tell he's doubting my change of heart, raising an eyebrow in skepticism.

"I mean, think about it," I continue, my body moving to a standing position of its own accord. "They need us just as fucking much as we need them. I don't know if you've noticed, but we're kind of the best in the League right now. I think we can probably get away with breaking some unspoken rules because of that - why should anyone give a fuck what we're up to off of the pitch if we're still fucking unbeatable on it?"

That, for the first time, breaks through his stoic expression, and I see the corner of his mouth turn up, the vaguest hint of a smirk on his face.

"It is…" he pauses, weighing his next words, "extremely hot when you talk like that."

So Quidditch talk turns him on. I shouldn't find that surprising in the slightest, but I decide to file that tidbit of information away in the back of my mind for now - from the way things seem to be moving, that may be useful knowledge at some point in the not-so-distant future.

I take a few steps forward, so that I'm standing directly in front of his chair. His eyes follow my every movement, tracing up my body and settling the moment his eyes lock with mine.

The desire, the want in his eyes is unmistakable, and it gives me the courage to do what I do next. I place one knee on either side of him, so that I'm all but on top of him - his hands jump to the outside of my thighs automatically, but his eyes never leave my own.

"Is this okay?" I ask, and I think I know the answer, but I want to hear it from him instead.

"More than okay," he replies, his hands tracing up my legs and resting on my hips. His eyes finally break away from my own, instead following the path his hands are tracing along the outside of my dress.

"What are you thinking about right now?"

"Would you like the polite answer or the honest one?"

I can't help but laugh at that. "When have I ever given a fuck about politeness?"

"Fair enough." He looks back up at my face. "In that case, I'm thinking about how much I want to fuck you."

Heat pools in my stomach with those words, as I sink farther and farther into his whiskey-coloured eyes that prove far more intoxicating than anything we've been drinking.

My hand finds his cheek, my thumb dragging slowly against the stubble along his jawline. "I may be able to do something about that."

The moment my lips meet his, his grip on my hips tightens, pulling me down fully on his lap and against his chest. My dress rides up higher on my thighs, but I'm not even the slightest bit bothered by it. Rather, I'm a bit too occupied by the way he's kissing me, which is somehow tender and insatiable all at once, resolutely balancing on the very edge of control.

I denied myself this, for so long, and for what?

There's so much lost time to make up for, so many things still left unspoken that I'm trying my hardest to communicate into this kiss, that it comes as a shock when he suddenly pulls away.

I try to kiss him again, but he stops me, bringing a finger up to my lips to maintain the space between us.

When he speaks, his voice is raw. "Tell me this is real. Tell me this isn't something you're going to wake up tomorrow and regret, because dear god, Dom, I can't do this again. If we do this tonight, I'm all in, and there's no fucking turning back and pretending it didn't happen this time."

He drops his finger from my lips just in time for me to speak. "No fucking turning back," I confirm.

Because even if my decision to come here was a split-second one, even if it was fuelled by an ex-boyfriend sighting and a sudden frustration at anyone who dares to set guidelines on how I live my life, I know in my heart that it's the right one.

Rajhi, the stupid boy who'd been on the receiving end of my right hook within a minute of meeting me, who'd somehow grown into my most-trusted teammate and one of closest confidantes, who'd gone from a self-important dick in the most infuriating of ways to a self-important dick in only the most endearing of ways… he was always the right decision.

"Speaking of tomorrow, though," I say airily, "I've got a wedding I'm supposed to be at. You're going to be there too, so… any chance I can interest you in being my date?"

His face splits into a grin, one of those bright smiles of his that rarely makes an appearance - most of his smiles are a bit more like a smirk - and I feel an impossible warmth radiating from that grin.

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

That feels like a sign that I should kiss him again. So I do.