Looking Through His eyes:
I saw her sitting there. All alone. Her nose stuck between the pages of a borrowed quidditch book. And such a lovely nose it was too. Well shaped; peppered with small brown freckles against her caramel skin. It was a very kissable nose. And for me to think that, was dangerous. She already had someone. Someone she was very happy with, if the rumours where true.
But a boy can dream, can't he?
Setting down my vibrant, parrot-feather quill, I sighed heavily. Dreams wouldn't get me anywhere in life, especially not down to the quidditch pitch where I had to be. How was a team to practice without their captain being there? However, it wasn't like I wanted to be there in the first place. I'd rather be here, kissing the heck out of her; easing her down atop any one of these random tables and showing her what passion REALLY felt like-
Ah shit, there I go again.
She was like a drug to me. No matter what I did, I couldn't get enough of her. She was sexy, smart, funny, did I mention sexy? You didn't know the meaning of sexy, 'til you've checked out Leah Evans. We're talking a two- five-three here. Perfect ten. And there I go again forgetting my gentlemenly skills. Damn the gentle sex. Damn them to hell. Damn them to hell, naked, handcuffed to a bed-
I really need to get out of this library.
And that's exactly what I did.
Packing up my evening's homework, I worked quickly and silently. The last thing I wanted was to draw her attention to me. One look at those chocolate brown eyes, and I'd be a puddle on the floor. With her of course. And God knows my team would kill me if I didn't show up to practice. Quidditch was a very demanding thing. I knew that from day one of being on the team. Now, almost six years later, I'm leading the team. Leading them right into failure.
Yeah, I know. I'm not a positive thinker. Than again, who is?
The hallways were empty and dark when I finally left the room. Left behind my angel, my sweet, sexy angel. Dinner had come and gone, and as usual, I missed it. My doctor was going to have a field day with my diabetis by the time I got in to see him again.
Cranky, bald old man. What the hell does he know anyways?
Apparently more than me.
Filch was wandering the hallways around me. I could hear his raspy, old man breathing. Would he hurry up and die already? I mean honestly. It takes him twenty minutes just to get out of chair and back on his feet. How the heck is he supposed to maintain a giant castle like this?
I shrugged.
Why the hell was I thinking about that in the first place?
Because I could.
Stepping up before the protrait of dancing flowers, I muttered the Hufflepuff password under my breath. Not that there was anyone around to hear it, it's just force of habit. Much like the concept of small children picking their noses, is a force of habit. Actually, that's more a fact of life than anything. And come to think of it, that's just disgusting.
Great way to turn myself off there.
I would have to remember that for later use. That, or thinking about wrinkly, old grandparents, going at it like mad-
I suddenly had to hurl. Thankfully, the image was easy to dismiss.
Wish life was the same.
The common room was empty, spotless, and silent. It bugged me. I couldn't tell you why though if you asked me. Guess it's all part of the Didgery mentallity.
Shit did that ever sound like an unpleasent desease.
Taking to the stairs, I tackled them two steps at a time. Time had run out for me. My white-gold watch had just beeped top of the hour at me. I should have been on the pitch a good twenty minutes ago. Micheal's not going to be happy with me.
"Hell," I cursed loudly, winging open the door into my shared dorm, "you owe me anyways Mike."
There was nothing but the silence of the room around me to answer.
Dropping my books and other school related things on the top of my desk in a scattered mess, I quickly scanned the room. My practice robes were layed out on my bed neatly, with my firebolt beside them. Mike wasn't my roomate. He was my nanny.
Ignoring the details of his washing and ironing job, I quickly changed into them, then picked up my broom. The pitch was waiting.
But so was my angel...
If you've ever read 'Foreign Affair', then you already know about Michael Spinnet, and Cedric Didgery. If you haven't read it, than perhaps you should. It'll give you a better understanding of those two characters, plus any other original chars I happen to throw in this one. I'll try to keep the two story consistant, but they are two different stories. Oh, and before I forget, the character Leah Evans is not mine. She belongs to a very dear friend of mine, whom I'm borrowing her from. Thanks darlin'. .
Disclaimer: Any original names directly from the books or movies, I don't own. They are property of J.K. Rowling, and W.B.
I saw her sitting there. All alone. Her nose stuck between the pages of a borrowed quidditch book. And such a lovely nose it was too. Well shaped; peppered with small brown freckles against her caramel skin. It was a very kissable nose. And for me to think that, was dangerous. She already had someone. Someone she was very happy with, if the rumours where true.
But a boy can dream, can't he?
Setting down my vibrant, parrot-feather quill, I sighed heavily. Dreams wouldn't get me anywhere in life, especially not down to the quidditch pitch where I had to be. How was a team to practice without their captain being there? However, it wasn't like I wanted to be there in the first place. I'd rather be here, kissing the heck out of her; easing her down atop any one of these random tables and showing her what passion REALLY felt like-
Ah shit, there I go again.
She was like a drug to me. No matter what I did, I couldn't get enough of her. She was sexy, smart, funny, did I mention sexy? You didn't know the meaning of sexy, 'til you've checked out Leah Evans. We're talking a two- five-three here. Perfect ten. And there I go again forgetting my gentlemenly skills. Damn the gentle sex. Damn them to hell. Damn them to hell, naked, handcuffed to a bed-
I really need to get out of this library.
And that's exactly what I did.
Packing up my evening's homework, I worked quickly and silently. The last thing I wanted was to draw her attention to me. One look at those chocolate brown eyes, and I'd be a puddle on the floor. With her of course. And God knows my team would kill me if I didn't show up to practice. Quidditch was a very demanding thing. I knew that from day one of being on the team. Now, almost six years later, I'm leading the team. Leading them right into failure.
Yeah, I know. I'm not a positive thinker. Than again, who is?
The hallways were empty and dark when I finally left the room. Left behind my angel, my sweet, sexy angel. Dinner had come and gone, and as usual, I missed it. My doctor was going to have a field day with my diabetis by the time I got in to see him again.
Cranky, bald old man. What the hell does he know anyways?
Apparently more than me.
Filch was wandering the hallways around me. I could hear his raspy, old man breathing. Would he hurry up and die already? I mean honestly. It takes him twenty minutes just to get out of chair and back on his feet. How the heck is he supposed to maintain a giant castle like this?
I shrugged.
Why the hell was I thinking about that in the first place?
Because I could.
Stepping up before the protrait of dancing flowers, I muttered the Hufflepuff password under my breath. Not that there was anyone around to hear it, it's just force of habit. Much like the concept of small children picking their noses, is a force of habit. Actually, that's more a fact of life than anything. And come to think of it, that's just disgusting.
Great way to turn myself off there.
I would have to remember that for later use. That, or thinking about wrinkly, old grandparents, going at it like mad-
I suddenly had to hurl. Thankfully, the image was easy to dismiss.
Wish life was the same.
The common room was empty, spotless, and silent. It bugged me. I couldn't tell you why though if you asked me. Guess it's all part of the Didgery mentallity.
Shit did that ever sound like an unpleasent desease.
Taking to the stairs, I tackled them two steps at a time. Time had run out for me. My white-gold watch had just beeped top of the hour at me. I should have been on the pitch a good twenty minutes ago. Micheal's not going to be happy with me.
"Hell," I cursed loudly, winging open the door into my shared dorm, "you owe me anyways Mike."
There was nothing but the silence of the room around me to answer.
Dropping my books and other school related things on the top of my desk in a scattered mess, I quickly scanned the room. My practice robes were layed out on my bed neatly, with my firebolt beside them. Mike wasn't my roomate. He was my nanny.
Ignoring the details of his washing and ironing job, I quickly changed into them, then picked up my broom. The pitch was waiting.
But so was my angel...
If you've ever read 'Foreign Affair', then you already know about Michael Spinnet, and Cedric Didgery. If you haven't read it, than perhaps you should. It'll give you a better understanding of those two characters, plus any other original chars I happen to throw in this one. I'll try to keep the two story consistant, but they are two different stories. Oh, and before I forget, the character Leah Evans is not mine. She belongs to a very dear friend of mine, whom I'm borrowing her from. Thanks darlin'. .
Disclaimer: Any original names directly from the books or movies, I don't own. They are property of J.K. Rowling, and W.B.