Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Harry Potter Characters.
A/N: I had to work late today. I updated Endless Moon earlier today and was going to update this story right after but I got really into an RP board and couldn't write two things at once. I have had ideas and the actual wording of this chapter floating around in my head since before I went to work now I just need to put it down on virtual paper. And my damn file for the Village still won't play. Sorry I was really excited about seeing Adrien Brody and Joaquin Phoenix. Any way here goes.
Chapter 2 – 'Firewhiskey goes to my head."
I looked down at Remus who was still sleeping, and let out a loud sigh that hurt my head when I noticed that he had his robes on still. I was also still in my orange ink stained robes. I tried to rub the tension out of my head, but it was no use. I tried to jump out of the bed a little too quickly and my leg caught in the blankets causing me to fall to the floor and hit my head on the dresser that was located about five feet from my bed. The collision caused my head to throb now and I cursed aloud. At my pained curses Remus awoke and let out a soft groan as he turned to burry his face into the pillow. I knew immediately that Remus also was not great at holding his liquor.
I gripped my head as I fought with the blanket that was still wrapped around my leg. Remus lifted his head off of the pillow obviously unable to ignore my struggle with the blanket from hell and his apparent headache. "What happened last night," I asked finally releasing my leg from the treacherous grip of the blanket that had tried to kill me.
He looked around for a moment with a confused expression gracing his face. "I think we had too much to drink, but I do remember that after we had finished an entire bottle of firewhiskey off I wanted to lie down and you told me to come up here. I think you stayed downstairs talking to a young wizard whose name I did not catch," I marveled at his ability to sound almost sophisticated even with a hangover.
"I should have warned you," I said finally standing upright, "Firewhiskey goes straight to my head." He moved to the edge of the bed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He let out a groan and closed his eyes tightly as if he was also trying to leave the tension that resided in his head also. "What happens now?" I asked, suddenly uncomfortable standing next to the only man who I had ever had make me blush.
"I'm not exactly sure, but I do believe it will entail a potion to get rid of this horrible headache," he said now looking down at me from our considerable difference in height; he was at least a foot taller than my own five foot two stature. I noticed that his face had suddenly twisted into concerned surprise. "What did you do?"
"What do you mean," I asked in a nervous voice as I felt my own face turn to surprise.
"You are bleeding," he said taking a handkerchief out of his robe pocket and pressed it against my head. I winced in pain as it stung. I knew immediately what it was from. It was where I had just fallen and hit my head against my dresser.
"I'm fine. I'm sure it isn't as bad as it seems," I said letting him continue to hold the handkerchief against my head. "I really wouldn't worry about it." I turned away from him and took the handkerchief. I looked in the mirror and saw that the blood had seemed to stain a portion of my light blonde hair. "I'll be right back," I said as I grabbed a light blue robe out of my wardrobe and immediately made my way to the bathroom to clean myself up and tend to my wounds. I healed the gash that was hidden by my thick hair and took a quick shower, making sure to wash the blood out of my hair. When I put on my robes I noticed I had grabbed the wrong one. I had meant to grab the light blue robe that had a collar that was trimmed with gold and made a soft 'u' shape, but instead I grabbed the one that was lined in silver trim and had a low 'v' cut collar. It was probably the most provocative thing I owned. I was never one to flash my body off and as I looked in the mirror I wondered to myself why I even owned this robe.
I made my way out of the bathroom after settling with myself because I wasn't about to change into the same robes I had slept in. They smelt of firewhiskey which at this point just the smell of firewhiskey was enough to make me want to vomit. As I walked back into my room I stopped in the doorway, a look of horror spreading over my face. "What are you doing?!" my voice was somewhat shrill and I regretted my tone as soon as I heard it.
"I'm sorry," he said as he collected the parchments he was scanning through, "I was just curious. I didn't mean to look at a work in progress." He had changed out of the robes he had worn last night and was now wearing the robes I saw draped over his arm when I bumped into him at the robe Shoppe.
"No it's ok," I said as I sat down on the bed next to him, "I overreacted a bit. I never have had someone read one of my books before it was finished. What do you think so far?" I asked turning trying to study his face. His lips were pursed together tightly and his eyes were unapologetic. I knew before he spoke that no matter what he was going to say he really hated it. "You hate it don't you? I understand. I know it isn't very good."
He let out a soft sigh and it seemed he was trying to find words that he thought wouldn't offend me. "Well, it just isn't for me," he said with what seemed to be a timid smile. "I think it is a bit graphic and detailed."
"It's trashy. Its ok you can say it. I don't care. I know what I write, and I write trashy romance novels," I smiled slightly at his nervous nature.
"It isn't trashy it's just very graphic. Do women really like reading this stuff?" he asked and I could have sworn his cheeks went slightly pink.
"More than you think. Married women especially love it. You see while hubby is out making money and working his tale off married women sit at home and read these and dream about Raffaello Terris and Vincent Morris taking them away from their domestic prisons and doing to them all the things they do to Della Camille," I found myself quite proud that I helped all those women find an out for their fantasies.
"Everything?" he asked with an embarrassed look on his face. I found it funny that a full grown man was so embarrassed by what was written in a trashy romance novel. "I mean some of this is very ..."
"Very what? Very sexual?" I said teasing him at that point.
"Well, yes," he said as his face turned crimson. I let out a soft giggle and quickly clasped my hand over my mouth. You don't flirt, and you certainly don't giggle, I told myself. He turned to me and the colour began draining out of his face. "You are an exceptionally odd person."
"Thank you," I said automatically taking it as a compliment. "My headache has seemed to have gone," I said after what seemed like an eternity of silence. I felt the tension between us, and to use an old cliché, it was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. He stared at me not speaking forever. I began to feel as if his gaze was burning holes in me. I suddenly shuddered; my arms became covered in goose bumps. I had never felt this way about any other person in my life. I couldn't help but think there was something about him that made him different.
"I should go shouldn't I," he said finally speaking but still not removing his gaze from me.
"If you feel you must," I said while my heart screamed at me to tell him to stay.
"I really should," he said standing up. "I will see you again sometime, right?" his eyes were hopeful and I fought to keep my breathing steady.
"Yeah, of coarse. I am almost always here," I blurted out as my heart raced. It pounded at my rib cage and I fought to keep my emotions in check. "Just stop by sometime and we'll maybe go out for ice cream or something."
"That sounds wonderful," he said as he made his way to the door.
I followed him to the door and held it open after he had stepped through it. "So I'll see you when I see you," I rolled my eyes at my own foolish usage of Muggle sayings.
"Yes, I will see you then," he said pausing just outside of the doorway. He looked at me the way my past boyfriends did when they really wanted to kiss me. Half of me hoped he would lean down and place a kiss against my burning lips, yet half of me stayed cold and reasonable. Don't kiss me. Don't kiss me. Don't kiss me, the voice repeated. "Goodbye," he said and I watched him walk down the hall.
When I had seen him disappear around the corner I closed the door and fell back on my bed letting out a deep sigh. My heart pounded in my chest so fast I thought it would break through. He made me feel a way I had never experienced in my life before. I knew I had a crush on him. It was at least a crush. I closed my eyes and his face lingered in my memory causing my heard to pound again.
I sat on my bed for the rest of the day pondering what the sadness in his eyes could have been. I know it was the whole day because before I knew it Tom knocked on my door and presented me with a tray of my favourite thing for dinner when I was busy writing, tomato soup and a plain ham and cheese sandwich. I took the tray from Tom and was overcome by how hungry I actually was. I quickly finished the sandwich and soup and found myself still hungry. I forced the thoughts of hunger back into the depths of my brain and decided to make my bed. I picked the blanket that I had fought with that morning up off the floor where it had stayed and began making the bed finding Remus' robes from the night before tangled in the sheet.
I marveled at how the robe though smelling predominantly of firewhiskey still smelled a bit like him. I closed my eyes drinking in his scent when I was hit by a wave of inspiration. I pulled a quill out of my bag as well as a packet of parchment and tore it open scribbling words onto it with my favourite blue ink. I always use blue ink when I wrote my romance novels. I'm not sure why I use blue ink; it just seems to add to the effect.
The words flowed out of me like never before. Somehow I now understood the desire of my characters and connected for the first time. In my head I replaced the noble Vincent Morris with Remus and I became Della Camille. The rough and rugged Raffaello Terris tried to steal me away and seduce me. He was angered at my conviction for the noble man whom I had fallen in love with. Well certainly I wasn't in love with Remus, but I was defiantly in lust with him.
I began to think about leaning against the doorframe and half hoping that he would kiss me and extinguish the fire burning in my body for him. I wondered if he would have pulled away if he had felt the heat from my flaming lips or would he have kissed me more deeply trying to cool my passion. I had never had thoughts like this about anyone in my life. I never lusted, nor did I ever want to kiss someone so badly. I imagined his kiss would taste sweet and be the most perfect kiss I had ever received.
My thoughts poured out on the parchment and I filled up two packets before I looked out my window to see the sun rising. Even if Remus wasn't really a wonderful kisser my lust for him certainly made him a wonderful muse.
A/N: So what do you think? Tell me please. More to come soon.
A/N: I had to work late today. I updated Endless Moon earlier today and was going to update this story right after but I got really into an RP board and couldn't write two things at once. I have had ideas and the actual wording of this chapter floating around in my head since before I went to work now I just need to put it down on virtual paper. And my damn file for the Village still won't play. Sorry I was really excited about seeing Adrien Brody and Joaquin Phoenix. Any way here goes.
Chapter 2 – 'Firewhiskey goes to my head."
I looked down at Remus who was still sleeping, and let out a loud sigh that hurt my head when I noticed that he had his robes on still. I was also still in my orange ink stained robes. I tried to rub the tension out of my head, but it was no use. I tried to jump out of the bed a little too quickly and my leg caught in the blankets causing me to fall to the floor and hit my head on the dresser that was located about five feet from my bed. The collision caused my head to throb now and I cursed aloud. At my pained curses Remus awoke and let out a soft groan as he turned to burry his face into the pillow. I knew immediately that Remus also was not great at holding his liquor.
I gripped my head as I fought with the blanket that was still wrapped around my leg. Remus lifted his head off of the pillow obviously unable to ignore my struggle with the blanket from hell and his apparent headache. "What happened last night," I asked finally releasing my leg from the treacherous grip of the blanket that had tried to kill me.
He looked around for a moment with a confused expression gracing his face. "I think we had too much to drink, but I do remember that after we had finished an entire bottle of firewhiskey off I wanted to lie down and you told me to come up here. I think you stayed downstairs talking to a young wizard whose name I did not catch," I marveled at his ability to sound almost sophisticated even with a hangover.
"I should have warned you," I said finally standing upright, "Firewhiskey goes straight to my head." He moved to the edge of the bed and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He let out a groan and closed his eyes tightly as if he was also trying to leave the tension that resided in his head also. "What happens now?" I asked, suddenly uncomfortable standing next to the only man who I had ever had make me blush.
"I'm not exactly sure, but I do believe it will entail a potion to get rid of this horrible headache," he said now looking down at me from our considerable difference in height; he was at least a foot taller than my own five foot two stature. I noticed that his face had suddenly twisted into concerned surprise. "What did you do?"
"What do you mean," I asked in a nervous voice as I felt my own face turn to surprise.
"You are bleeding," he said taking a handkerchief out of his robe pocket and pressed it against my head. I winced in pain as it stung. I knew immediately what it was from. It was where I had just fallen and hit my head against my dresser.
"I'm fine. I'm sure it isn't as bad as it seems," I said letting him continue to hold the handkerchief against my head. "I really wouldn't worry about it." I turned away from him and took the handkerchief. I looked in the mirror and saw that the blood had seemed to stain a portion of my light blonde hair. "I'll be right back," I said as I grabbed a light blue robe out of my wardrobe and immediately made my way to the bathroom to clean myself up and tend to my wounds. I healed the gash that was hidden by my thick hair and took a quick shower, making sure to wash the blood out of my hair. When I put on my robes I noticed I had grabbed the wrong one. I had meant to grab the light blue robe that had a collar that was trimmed with gold and made a soft 'u' shape, but instead I grabbed the one that was lined in silver trim and had a low 'v' cut collar. It was probably the most provocative thing I owned. I was never one to flash my body off and as I looked in the mirror I wondered to myself why I even owned this robe.
I made my way out of the bathroom after settling with myself because I wasn't about to change into the same robes I had slept in. They smelt of firewhiskey which at this point just the smell of firewhiskey was enough to make me want to vomit. As I walked back into my room I stopped in the doorway, a look of horror spreading over my face. "What are you doing?!" my voice was somewhat shrill and I regretted my tone as soon as I heard it.
"I'm sorry," he said as he collected the parchments he was scanning through, "I was just curious. I didn't mean to look at a work in progress." He had changed out of the robes he had worn last night and was now wearing the robes I saw draped over his arm when I bumped into him at the robe Shoppe.
"No it's ok," I said as I sat down on the bed next to him, "I overreacted a bit. I never have had someone read one of my books before it was finished. What do you think so far?" I asked turning trying to study his face. His lips were pursed together tightly and his eyes were unapologetic. I knew before he spoke that no matter what he was going to say he really hated it. "You hate it don't you? I understand. I know it isn't very good."
He let out a soft sigh and it seemed he was trying to find words that he thought wouldn't offend me. "Well, it just isn't for me," he said with what seemed to be a timid smile. "I think it is a bit graphic and detailed."
"It's trashy. Its ok you can say it. I don't care. I know what I write, and I write trashy romance novels," I smiled slightly at his nervous nature.
"It isn't trashy it's just very graphic. Do women really like reading this stuff?" he asked and I could have sworn his cheeks went slightly pink.
"More than you think. Married women especially love it. You see while hubby is out making money and working his tale off married women sit at home and read these and dream about Raffaello Terris and Vincent Morris taking them away from their domestic prisons and doing to them all the things they do to Della Camille," I found myself quite proud that I helped all those women find an out for their fantasies.
"Everything?" he asked with an embarrassed look on his face. I found it funny that a full grown man was so embarrassed by what was written in a trashy romance novel. "I mean some of this is very ..."
"Very what? Very sexual?" I said teasing him at that point.
"Well, yes," he said as his face turned crimson. I let out a soft giggle and quickly clasped my hand over my mouth. You don't flirt, and you certainly don't giggle, I told myself. He turned to me and the colour began draining out of his face. "You are an exceptionally odd person."
"Thank you," I said automatically taking it as a compliment. "My headache has seemed to have gone," I said after what seemed like an eternity of silence. I felt the tension between us, and to use an old cliché, it was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. He stared at me not speaking forever. I began to feel as if his gaze was burning holes in me. I suddenly shuddered; my arms became covered in goose bumps. I had never felt this way about any other person in my life. I couldn't help but think there was something about him that made him different.
"I should go shouldn't I," he said finally speaking but still not removing his gaze from me.
"If you feel you must," I said while my heart screamed at me to tell him to stay.
"I really should," he said standing up. "I will see you again sometime, right?" his eyes were hopeful and I fought to keep my breathing steady.
"Yeah, of coarse. I am almost always here," I blurted out as my heart raced. It pounded at my rib cage and I fought to keep my emotions in check. "Just stop by sometime and we'll maybe go out for ice cream or something."
"That sounds wonderful," he said as he made his way to the door.
I followed him to the door and held it open after he had stepped through it. "So I'll see you when I see you," I rolled my eyes at my own foolish usage of Muggle sayings.
"Yes, I will see you then," he said pausing just outside of the doorway. He looked at me the way my past boyfriends did when they really wanted to kiss me. Half of me hoped he would lean down and place a kiss against my burning lips, yet half of me stayed cold and reasonable. Don't kiss me. Don't kiss me. Don't kiss me, the voice repeated. "Goodbye," he said and I watched him walk down the hall.
When I had seen him disappear around the corner I closed the door and fell back on my bed letting out a deep sigh. My heart pounded in my chest so fast I thought it would break through. He made me feel a way I had never experienced in my life before. I knew I had a crush on him. It was at least a crush. I closed my eyes and his face lingered in my memory causing my heard to pound again.
I sat on my bed for the rest of the day pondering what the sadness in his eyes could have been. I know it was the whole day because before I knew it Tom knocked on my door and presented me with a tray of my favourite thing for dinner when I was busy writing, tomato soup and a plain ham and cheese sandwich. I took the tray from Tom and was overcome by how hungry I actually was. I quickly finished the sandwich and soup and found myself still hungry. I forced the thoughts of hunger back into the depths of my brain and decided to make my bed. I picked the blanket that I had fought with that morning up off the floor where it had stayed and began making the bed finding Remus' robes from the night before tangled in the sheet.
I marveled at how the robe though smelling predominantly of firewhiskey still smelled a bit like him. I closed my eyes drinking in his scent when I was hit by a wave of inspiration. I pulled a quill out of my bag as well as a packet of parchment and tore it open scribbling words onto it with my favourite blue ink. I always use blue ink when I wrote my romance novels. I'm not sure why I use blue ink; it just seems to add to the effect.
The words flowed out of me like never before. Somehow I now understood the desire of my characters and connected for the first time. In my head I replaced the noble Vincent Morris with Remus and I became Della Camille. The rough and rugged Raffaello Terris tried to steal me away and seduce me. He was angered at my conviction for the noble man whom I had fallen in love with. Well certainly I wasn't in love with Remus, but I was defiantly in lust with him.
I began to think about leaning against the doorframe and half hoping that he would kiss me and extinguish the fire burning in my body for him. I wondered if he would have pulled away if he had felt the heat from my flaming lips or would he have kissed me more deeply trying to cool my passion. I had never had thoughts like this about anyone in my life. I never lusted, nor did I ever want to kiss someone so badly. I imagined his kiss would taste sweet and be the most perfect kiss I had ever received.
My thoughts poured out on the parchment and I filled up two packets before I looked out my window to see the sun rising. Even if Remus wasn't really a wonderful kisser my lust for him certainly made him a wonderful muse.
A/N: So what do you think? Tell me please. More to come soon.