Looking Through His Eyes:
Michael Spinnet stood in the middle of the pitch, his shaggy black hair all messed up from the breeze. He had his hands on his hips. A sure sign that I was going to be hearing from him; quickly and loudly.
And damn was I ever right....
"CEDRIC NICHOLAS CALVIN DIDGERY, WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN?!?!?!?!"
The whole pitch, consisting solely of the Hufflepuff team stopped what they were doing, and turned their attention to Mike and I. Way to make me feel like a goldfish in a fishbowl. Wait... not flashy enough. Let's settle with an angelfish.
Great, there's that word again...
Squaring my well-set dancer's shoulders, I matched Mike's eyes with my own, my chin raised slightly higher than it should have been. I didn't want to come across as a snob, but I really couldn't help it. He'd not only yelled at me, but used my full name. I hate my full name, with a passion.
"Fantisizing in the library." I asnwered calmly and cooly, not even blinking an eye at my own words.
From where I stood, a few feet away from him, I could see his bottom jaw drop. The sight made me want to laugh. It was very amusing. Nothing like comedy at someone else's expense.
"Fantisizing?" He almost choked the word out. "Who this time?"
A snicker ran through the team.
So I was a bit of a playboy, what did it matter?
"Who do you think it was this time?" I asnswered in my usual calm, cool voice. "The same girl it's been since last year. The same girl it's been since she came to Hoggy from America."
I watched him nod.
"Ah. That girl."
Of course that girl you nutbar...what other girl would it be?
"Enjoyable?"
His question caught me off guard, and for a few moments I could do nothing but stand there with my mouth gapping open like a fish out of water. Michael, my best friend might as well be my brother, asking me if my personal fantasy was enjoyable. I couldn't help it. I shook my head in frazzlement.
"As always."
He grinned. "Good. Mind on quidditch now? We've got a game in less then two weeks, and I'm not allowing Oliver to kick our asses," he paused to roll his eyes at me, "again."
From the corner of my eye I saw my lead chasser ball her hands into little fists. It was a comforting sight.
"Two weeks?" I echoed, a little on the meek side. "That's it?"
Mike nodded. "Yeah. Think you can handle this Capt'n?"
A sexy smirk pulled at the corners of my mouth as I slipped the heavy black leather jacket off my shoulders. "Do dogs pee on brick walls?"
Leah Evans set down the book she was holding with a long, drawn-out sigh. She was restless again tonight. Third night in a row. It had to be an omen of some sort. Supressing a yawn, she scanned the library around her. The room seemed much more quite then it had just a few minutes ago.
She took that as a sign to be on her way.
Working at a relaxed pace, she began packing up the books she'd been reading, all the latest tricks and treats about quidditch. Her favorite past-time. There was nothing more enjoyable than flying over the world on a broom of complete control. Heck, if it wasn't for quidditch she never would have met him.
On second thought, that wasn't always such a good thing.
Footsteps behind her distracted her from packing as she strained her ears to listen. It did not take her long to reconize them, and the smile on her face showed they were welcome. Running her fingers through her shoulder length brown hair, she turned to look at her boyfriend with a soft grin.
"Good evening Oliver."
The Gryffindor quidditch captain returned the smile, giving her a slight incline of his head. "Good evening. You're up a little late, don't you think Leah?"
"Late?" She tipped her head to one side slightly. "Not late. Just over my usual time a little. Got caught up in my reading." She motioned to the stack of books behind her.
He nodded in understanding, stepping slightly closer to her. "Getting ready for the big game I see. First one this year."
"Yes," she softly answered, "a keeper always needs to be prepared. Especially with the team we're against. Hufflepuff, you know."
Oliver gave her a mock laugh. "Piece of cake." He stopped, and shook his head. "They're dumb and slow. If it wasn't for the fact that the whole team's easy on the eyes for everyone, I don't think they'd even be a team. None of them have any skill -"
"Stop it." Interupted Leah sternly. "It's not nice to talk about them like that. They have skill, they just choose not to show it. I've seen them play before, they're actually quite good."
He rolled his eyes at her. "Right, and I'm a wind-up monkey. Honestly Leah, listen to yourself. You talk as if you actually like them."
"So what if I do?" She challenged, her chocolate brown eyes narrowing. "Regardless of what house they're in, I know a good quidditch team when I see one."
Oliver rolled his eyes, "And you're saying Hufflepuff's are a good quidditch team?" He scoffed heavily. "Damn Leah, I thought you had a better knowledge of skill than that. Looks to me like I'm going to have to show you real talent."
"Real talent?" She whispered, her eyes narrowed, head tipped to one side in minor anger. "And I'm assuming you'd know all about real talent Mr. I want to get on with the Chudly Cannons, but don't understand there's no I in teamwork?"
Her words hung heavy in the air around them, pulling the tension tighter and tighter with every breath they each took. He had no words back to her, his mind was spinning away on him. How dare she throw that back on him? What gave her the right to dig deep into his life and drag that through the mud surrounding him? Unable to come back withanything, he balled his fingers into fists, and held his pose steady, his eyes matching hers in a firery passion.
"Something I said Oliver?" Questioned Leah, her voice in a husky whisper.
"No." He answered from between clenched teeth. "What makes you think it was something you said...?"
Leah could not help herself. She rolled her narrowed chocolate brown eyes at him. And that's what pushed him over the edge. Un-clenching his fists, his right palm made clear contact with her smooth tanned cheek in straight anger.
She went to cry out, but bit down on her tounge instead, holding back the sound. She was a strong girl, crying was a signal of weakness. Unable to look him in the eye, shoked from his action, she dropped her gaze down to the stone floor under her, feeling the tears start to swell behind long, curling lashes.
Oliver stood there a moment longer, his chest heaving up and down with short panting breaths, before turning on his heels and fleeing quickly from the room before someone walked in on them. Something like that could ruin his polished rep.
Please feel free to R&R, all input's welcome, no matter what it is. Also, if you haven't read "Foreign Affair", I suggest you take the time to do so. It'll help explain much about Cedric and Mike. Leah, as I said earlier, is not my character, therefore I can not take any credit for her. Thanks hun for letting me use her in my story, it makes writing it all that much more enjoyable. .