The unnaturally vibrant neon colours and the sharp, mesmerizing music invade my senses as I dance in the crowd, slender arms wrapped around my waist, soft hands trailing a slick, sweaty path from my neck, between my tits, pinching a hard nipple through the thin fabric of my shimmering crop top, then lower, under the waistband of my tight jeans, the touch electric and enhanced, the Goldrush making my body tingle all over when finally, the teasing stops and I feel the rush of euphoria when Yael's fingers rub against my clit, her mouth sucking on my neck as I gasp out, closing my eyes and arching my body, rubbing myself against her hand. I can feel her grin as her finger thrusts into me, her thumb still playing with my clit, maddeningly slow then fast, her other hand teasing my tits, rolling a nipple between fingers, and she bites down on my neck while she goes faster and deeper and I shudder as I come undone.
I turn around, feeling dizzy and disoriented, looking at Yael in wonder. The air around her is glowing bright gold and purple, her smile radiant, pupils dilated, tight white dress wrapped around her curves, neckline dipping low, leaving her irresistibly on display, her auburn hair standing out against the darkness of the industrial warehouse where we've been for hours, the party seemingly never-ending and I don't even know whose party it is. Yael licks her fingers suggestively and I feel the emptiness inside me taking hold once again, the euphoria volatile and unpredictable, disappearing from my grasp just as swiftly as it came, and nothing compares to the high I had felt with the only person who made me come alive.
Wrapping my arms around her neck, fingers tangling in her hair, I pull Yael close, kissing her, tasting myself on her soft, full lips, her tongue playful and teasing, her touches light and sensual. And yet, I crave something more. Someone else. Fuck.
"You okay?" she shouts over the music, steadying me when I didn't even realise I was shaky. I nod once, plastering a smile on my face that doesn't mean anything, doesn't reach my eyes and I feel my chest tighten at the thought of the deep hollow feeling enveloping me.
I rummage around my bag, looking for the couple of vials Rhys gave me after I crashed at his a couple of nights ago, searching for something that I knew he couldn't give me. But he was fit and good in bed, didn't ask too many questions, and when I closed my eyes I could almost imagine he was someone else, could see someone else's face, and that was almost enough. Almost.
Yael offers me a Wildfire shot with a wink and I take it, downing the drink, my fingers finally wrapping around the small glass vials, bottled delirium of Rhys' own creation promising an instant relief from my fucked up mind. I give one to Yael, who kisses me before uncorking the vial and drinking the deep black potion, flecks of gold shining in the inky blackness. I welcome the slightly bitter taste of the potion, the rush of energy to my body and the way I stop thinking and there is just the feel of Yael's skin on mine, the bright colours glowing all around us, the music like an electric current, incendiary, and when Yael takes my hand, her red lips drawn out in a wide smile, we're suddenly dancing in the flames.
Time stops having any meaning and I don't know how much of it passes before we stumble outside, Yael holding me up, both of us laughing at nothing, but I'm so thirsty, I feel like I will pass out. She shoves a bottle of water into my hand and we sit down on the concrete, people milling around, the blood-red moon hanging low in the night sky.
I drink the entire bottle in one go, damp hair sticking to the back of my neck, the wind making me shiver as I realise how cold it is. But none of it seems to matter when Yael puts two small vials of Moonfrost on the floor before us, the shiny crystals reflecting starlight and the redness of the moon.
She puts an arm around my neck, leaning close. "We do these, go to my flat and fuck each other's brains out," she whispers in my ear before kissing my collarbone, licking the sensitive skin, her other hand on my thigh, inching higher with each kiss.
And I don't want to come down, don't want to embrace the inevitable just yet. So I turn my head slightly, smirk at her and grab one of the vials, open it, don't bother with lines, just inhale from the vial, closing my eyes for a moment, waiting for that high of the beautiful, sparkling nothingness.
When I open my eyes, Yael's face is in front of me, her pupils immense, reflecting my own, and I grab her head, crashing my lips on hers, desperate for the electrifying touch of the drug. She leans away, smiling when she takes my hand and I feel the pull of Apparition. Moments later, we're in her bedroom and I pull down her dress, fingers fumbling slightly, legs unsteady, but soon she's naked and I'm pushing her on the bed, licking her hard nipples, my hand going down, and she's already wet when I touch her, her back arching when I trail kisses down her abdomen to her clit, licking, hand travelling higher to grab her tits, and Yael writhes underneath me, loud moans reverberating around the room as she buries her hands in my hair.
And when she comes, cursing loudly, I still don't feel anything except the need for my own release.
Yael sighs as she perches herself on her forearms, looking down at me. "You're not naked," she says in a breathless voice, and in seconds we're kissing again, her hands tearing off my clothes, touching all the right places and my body surrenders to this mercurial descent into darkness.
I wake up to a massive headache, damp sheets tangled around me. It takes me a while of lying there, staring at the ceiling, to remember where I am, chaotic flashes of last night replaying what happened. I groan and turn on my side, looking at Yael next to me. Her naked body reveals how rough we got last night and I don't even have to spare a glance at myself to know I've got it worse.
And even though it's been two months after I left Wood in Berlin, I'm still trying to fill the hole he left. The hole I created. Doing whatever the fuck I can to forget how he smiles like a devil and how he tastes like something I didn't know I loved until we kissed for the first time.
I close my burning eyes, the wetness sliding down my cheeks and I don't know if I'm crying because my head and my entire body hurt or because of my heart.
Yael stirs, stretching out like a cat before she opens her eyes, her makeup ruined, much like my own. She sees me looking at her and grimaces, hands massaging her temples. "Fuck me, this is worse than that time we tried the Muggle stuff," Yael says. "Shouldn't have mixed it," she murmurs between groans. "Good thing we've got no photoshoots scheduled this month, I don't know how the fuck I'd survive."
Mentally I agree, though I can't find the strength to verbalise my thoughts, so I just close my eyes and try to ignore the pain. I feel Yael getting up, but thankfully she doesn't open the curtains.
Something small settles on top of me and I crack an eye open to see it's another vial, though the colour is a familiar hue of a hangover potion. Yael grins as she stands before me, still naked but in a decidedly better mood. She must've taken it already. My hands shake as I uncork the vial and drink the potion greedily, eyes roving all over Yael's body, but I'm so tired that I don't even manage to make a passing comment before falling back on the soft mattress and closing my eyes again.
An owl hooting wakes me up again, though this time at least my headache is gone but I still feel shaky and weak. I sit up in bed, looking out the now visible window, only to realise it must be late afternoon by the way the sun shines in the west. Yael is sitting in an armchair, reading a letter, while her owl eats treats on the coffee table. Yael looks up from the letter when she realises I'm awake, quirking an amused eyebrow at me.
"Finally. I thought you'd died at some point," she says, laughing, "That'd be a shame, you're probably the best I've had lately."
"At least something I'm good at," I murmur, feeling uncharacteristically self-deprecating.
"That's just the comedown talking. I've got something that'll cheer you up," Yael says teasingly, waving the letter with a wicked smile. "I've got a friend from Hogwarts who's a big shot with the Couture Nocturne, and they're having an event tonight at The Nymph so he invited me. Told me to bring friends."
I groan, not really sure I'm able to get out of bed, let alone attend an event. "And what are we supposed to do at this… Event?" I ask, looking at my nails, thinking they need an update. I've gotten bored of the forest green nail polish.
"Walk around in a dress that doesn't cover much, say nothing meaningful and, most importantly, look fucking gorgeous and let rich people fuck us with their eyes. It's for charity, and you know how guys get a lot more generous when there's someone to impress, especially Veelas," Yael smirks. She's not wrong. "There's going to be free booze. And other stuff, if I know Roger…"
"Fine, but I'll need something to keep me up, I don't think I can stand."
Yael waves her wand, summoning a wooden box from somewhere in the flat. She opens it, takes out a small bag filled with white powder, and grins at me. "I think I've got you covered."
She helps me get into the shower, and I let the water wash over me in scalding hot waves, easing the pain in my muscles slightly and by the time it turns cold, I feel slightly less like an undead person. I borrow Yael's bathrobe and wrap my hair in a towel, walking out into the living room barefoot. She's drinking coffee and reading the Daily Prophet. "Can you lend me a dress? I don't think I've got anything clean at my flat and I don't really want to make the trip only to get dressed."
"Yeah, grab whatever you want from the closet."
Her closet is filled with clothes from shows we've done, and I rummage around until I find a dark red dress that I like.
"Good choice," Yael says, watching me as she leans against the doorframe. "You'll look smoking in that."
It doesn't take us long to get ready, being a model has its perks when it comes to beauty spells, and Yael's secret stash does the job of making us both seem functional, newfound energy making this morning seem like a distant memory.
I finish putting on my crimson red lipstick, a hue that goes well with the dress and my new nails, courtesy of Yael, and as I look at myself in the mirror, I almost don't notice that my eyes are still blank. I blink a couple of times and draw my eyes away from the reflection, ignoring everything it means. I put on a smile and take Yael's hand, and before I can say anything, we're in the lobby of The Nymph.
There's plenty of people already there, all of them dressed fancy, and we follow an older couple in the direction of the event space. I glance at the floating banner to see it's a charity event for orphaned kids during the war.
Yael shows the invitation to the witch at the door and she waves her wand, two golden stripes appearing on both our wrists. A waiter immediately walks over, gawking at us while we take the glasses filled with champagne from his tray. I sip on the drink, when a tall handsome guy with slicked-back brown hair comes over.
"Cohen!" he exclaims and Yael turns towards him with a wide smile. "You came and…," the guy looks at me, cheeks flushed red, "You brought a friend."
Yael kisses him on both cheeks. "Of course I did. Roger, this is my friend Freya Johansen, she works for Daphne."
Roger offers to shake my hand and I admire the fact that he hasn't gone completely mute. "Roger Davies," he introduces himself and I flash him a smile.
"Thanks for inviting us," I say, drinking more champagne.
Roger waves his hand like it's nothing, "Oh please, you're doing me a favour. Yael, you won't believe who's here, I was just talking to him, wait right here…" he trails off, disappearing in the crowd.
"He seems nice," I say, raising an eyebrow at Yael and she smirks.
"He is. Most of the time. He's useful, though, plenty of connections."
I nod, my glass now half empty and Roger's voice comes from behind us. "Ah, Yael's here, see, she was in Ravenclaw with me, I'm not sure you'd remember her, a year below me, and this is her friend…"
Yael and I turn around and time stops, everything stops, my breath catching in my throat and I feel like a thousand knives slash at my heart. Oliver Wood is standing there with a smirk on his face, his arm wrapped around the waist of a gorgeous brunette. Nobody seems to notice the way we look at each other, nobody seems to notice that I'm not breathing, that my pulse is racing, heart beating so fast that it feels like it's going to come out of my chest.
Roger, oblivious to the tension like everyone else, grins at us all. "Yael, Freya, let me introduce you to Oliver Wood and his fiancée, Octavia Blackthorn."
