A/N: Hey all! Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story so far. I have a lot of ideas for this one and can't wait to continue this journey.
So this is a bit of a filler chapter that was created with the intention of giving a little bit more insight into Rose's relationship with Scorpius, and as a way to smoothly transition to the next part of the story.
So I apologize in advance for the lack of interaction between Rose and Scorpius in this chapter, but I PROMISE you that you will not be disappointed. The next chapter will have a crap load of ScoRose interaction, so stay tuned!
*Also, for anybody sensitive to smut, you may want to skip out on reading the last part of this chapter, as the text goes into fairly explicit detail about a character's wet dream.
Anyways, as always please read, favorite, and review!! I absolutely love reviews!
— September 1st, 2017 - Hogwarts Express —
"Don't listen to James. I know that we will both be sorted into Gryffindor!" an eleven year old Rose Weasley reassured a sulking Albus Potter as they both walked down the aisle of the Hogwarts Express, luggage in tow.
"But what if I am sorted into Slytherin? I will never live it down!! James will make my life miserable!" lamented Albus, his emerald green eyes flashing with obvious anxiety.
Rose rolled her large blue eyes and gave her bulky brown suitcase an unnecessary tug out of annoyance. "James is a tosser. Don't let him pick on you. Even if you are sorted into Slytherin, we'll still be best friends. But you'll be with me in Gryffindor. I promise."
The curly-haired eleven year old frowned as she peered into compartment after compartment, only to find them all full. A small surge or irritation flowed through her small body. Her arm was getting tired from dragging her luggage, and all she wanted to do was find an empty compartment for herself and Albus so that they could talk about their plan to try out for the Gryffindor Quidditch team as soon as possible.
After all, if Albus's dad could make the team during his first year, then they sure as hell could! Rose was sure of it.
"It looks like everywhere is full. I guess we can try to find James," Rose suggested with a frown, a crease forming between her eyebrows.
"Have you heard nothing of what I said?" Albus deadpanned. "I don't want to talk to James until after we get sorted."
"Well, unless you want to share a compartment with a complete stranger, which I know you don't—" Rose began haughtily.
"How about in there? They seem alright."
Rose looked to the compartment that Albus was referring to. Inside sat a dark haired boy gesticulating enthusiastically about something to the seemingly cool and collected pasty blonde boy she had seen earlier on the platform.
Her eyes narrowed in on the blonde boy. Her father's words floated across her brain like an intrusive insect.
"So that's little Scorpius. Make sure you beat him in every test, Rosie. Thank God you inherited your mother's brain."
Rose sneered and turned her nose up. "No. That kid is a Malfoy. My dad says you can never trust a Malfoy."
"And are you going to listen to everything your dad says?" Albus drawled with a prominent eye roll before making his way toward the compartment. "C'mon, Rose. Don't be a judgmental twit."
Rose sneered at her cousin, but still trailed after him cautiously. She wanted to prove to her cousin that she was, in fact, not a judgmental twit.
Albus slid the door open slyly and poked his head through. "Hey, mind if my cousin and I join you? Everywhere else is full."
The dark haired boy grinned at Albus brightly and gestured for him to enter.
The blonde boy remained stoic and seemingly uncaring, as if he was above bothering Albus with a response.
Rose already didn't like him. At all.
Nevertheless, she slid into the compartment after Albus and after heaving her luggage onto the racks above them, she sat herself awkwardly in the furthest corner of the compartment closest to the door in case she decided that an escape was necessary.
"Hello," the dark haired boy greeted both she and Albus with a large, irritating smile that made Rose want to smack him across the face. "I'm Damon Zabini. And this over here is Scorpius Malfoy. Don't mind him. He doesn't talk much."
Scorpius narrowed his grey eyes at his friend in response, but otherwise remained silent.
"I'm Albus Potter, and this over here is Rose Weasley," Albus responded with a bright smile of his own. Rose gave a little disgruntled "hmmph" in response, not really interested in starting any sort of conversation with this lot.
"Potter? Weasley?" Damon exclaimed in wonder. "Wow, your parents are famous! They saved the entire wizarding world. Our families are sorta famous too… though, not for very good reasons."
Scorpius scoffed darkly at his friend's comment. While both Damon and Albus ignored him, Rose just couldn't.
Not when he was sitting there, being a complete tosser, scoffing and grunting like some angry troll.
Unable to help herself, she narrowed her eyes at the young blonde boy and spat with as much vehemence as possible, "Do you have something to say, Malfoy?"
The blonde boy's stormy grey eyes flashed dangerously as he looked at Rose, a subtle sneer forming on his lips. "Not to you, I don't."
Rose glowered at Scorpius. Her father had already warned her that the Malfoys were a bunch of ferrety prats, but something about Scorpius Malfoy really, really bothered her to no end.
He was extra ferrety.
Rose felt a sharp nudge against her ribcage. She looked over to see Albus glower at her with an expression that said, "Play nice or else!!"
With another small disgruntled "hmmph," Rose sank back in her seat and stared out the window sulkily. She figured that she would humor her cousin's attempt at making other friends.
For now.
Rose spent the next few moments stiff and tight lipped as Albus and Damon chummed it out, their interaction too natural and too genuine for her liking.
After another few moments, Scorpius defrosted ever so slightly and joined in on their conversation when the topic switched from classes at Hogwarts to dragons in Romania.
The three boys were bonding. Without her.
Rose could see the beginnings of a solid friendship form between them and she hated it. She hated that Albus, who was supposed to be her best friend, was warming up to these two good-for-nothing dunderheads.
And one of them was a Malfoy.
How could Albus abandon her for a sodding Malfoy??
With how things were looking, Rose was starting to think that maybe Albus did belong in Slytherin.
Things took a turn for the worst once the boys moved on to the topic of Quidditch.
If there was anything Rose could talk, argue, or scream bloody murder about with literally anyone, it was Quidditch.
Apparently, the same could be said for Scorpius Malfoy.
"Puddlemere United has the best chance of winning the cup this year. End of discussion," Scorpius said with such pompous finality, that it roused Rose from her tight-lipped, frigid silence.
"You're a bloody idiot," she spat at Malfoy, her eyes narrowing in on his stupid pale face. Merlin, he looked like such a scrawny, sickly ferret.
Disgusting.
Scorpius glared at Rose venomously. "Oh? And what would you know about Quidditch, Weasel?"
"More than you, obviously," Rose sneered. "Anybody with a brain knows that even the Tornadoes have a better chance at the Cup than Puddlemere this year."
"I don't know where you are getting this rubbish information to form your rubbish opinions, but you really don't know what you're talking about. How embarrassing," Scorpius replied coolly, his face displaying blatant distaste as he crossed his arms petulantly.
Rose could feel that familiar heat prickling against the nape of her neck.
She vaguely remembered her mum telling her to take a deep breath and count backwards from ten whenever she felt the beginnings of an emotional explosion.
Both Damon and Albus were suddenly silent as they beheld the disaster steadily unfurling before them. They exchanged an apprehensive look, both wondering if they should say or do something to prevent the potential hell-storm from occurring.
"The Holyhead Harpies have a seventy two percent chance of winning the cup this year based on this season's trends," Rose snapped through gritted teeth. "I did my research, unlike a certain spineless, mop-headed ferret."
"Your research is false and dated," Scorpius replied with an icy evenness that made Rose even angrier. "You're just another Harpies fangirl who'll eat up anything they say. I know your type."
Rose's chest constricted dangerously. She gripped the edges of her seat as if her sanity depended on it, and leaned forward so that she could properly get in that stupidly blonde, pale shithead's face.
"Oh?" she hissed venomously. "And what exactly is that?"
"Rose…"
"C'mon Scorpius, mate…"
But both Albus's and Damon's feeble attempts at de-escalating the situation were futile.
The corner of Scorpius's lips twitched up in a cruel smirk. Even at eleven years old he knew perfectly well when he was successfully getting under someone's skin.
He leaned forward as well, mimicking Rose's posture, dark grey eyes meeting sharp blue. "A common, talentless know-at-all who really knows nothing at all."
At that exact second, several things happened at once.
Both Damon and Albus started yelling incoherently as Rose's clenched fist flew forward and made contact with Scorpius's face with a sickening crunch, while a blinding flash of white light escaped Scorpius's wand and hit Rose square in the chest.
Rose was blindsided for a moment, the wind completely knocked out of her from whatever hex the idiot had decided to use. A part of her was actually fairly impressed that he had the ability to cast a spell of such strength when he hadn't even started classes yet.
It made her jealous.
She hated him even more.
If that was even possible.
When she finally came to, she caught sight of Scorpius, who now had a fountain of blood pouring from his broken nose, his dark grey eyes forming into slits as he stared at her with loathing.
Rose opened her mouth to laugh out loud at his newfound misery, but her stomach lurched violently, and then before she could form another coherent thought, she was vomiting an array of fat, slimy slugs all over herself.
Scorpius spat out a mouthful of blood and leered gloatingly at her.
"Eat slugs, bitch."
—— July 2032 (Present Day) ——
"I'm going to quit."
"And do what? Bus tables at the Leaky Cauldron for the rest of your life? Stop being so dramatic."
"I don't give a flying fuck. Hell, I'll even get myself fired. Shouldn't be too hard given who my darling boss is."
"You and I both know that you have far too much pride to let Scorpius Malfoy sack you."
Rose purses her lips.
Lily has a very valid point. They both know that Rose would rather fuck a manticore than allow herself to be sacked by the likes of Scorpius sodding Malfoy.
Plus, this job really is the best and only option for Rose given the current state of her public image; unless, as Lily so eloquently put it, she would prefer a job bussing tables at the Leaky Cauldron, or working the register at Florean Fortescue's for the rest of her life.
"Besides," Lily starts as she swishes her wand over the whistling tea kettle sitting atop their enchanted muggle stove, causing the high pitched sound to immediately cease. "You admitted to me just the other day that the job itself isn't horrible. Malfoy is the real trigger here."
"Yeah, well, he's my boss, so I guess I'll just deal with being consistently triggered every fucking day," Rose grumbles snidely as she rakes her fingers through her unruly mop of tangled red hair.
It has been one entire week since Rose started working at the ministry, and to be honest, certain aspects of the job have proven to be tolerable— sometimes even enjoyable. Rose doesn't mind the administrative work that she does for the department. She can deal with peer reviewing and proofreading documents from each of the different divisions. She can deal with performing the necessary research needed to verify the contents of departmental documents and effectively communicate with the supervisors of each division to clear up any discrepancies. All of that is nothing short of schoolwork for Rose, and Rose consistently achieved higher scores than most of her classmates.
It isn't the administrative assistant aspect that Rose has a problem with. No… it's the personal assistant to the Head of the Department aspect that leaves her with an uncanny desire to drop kick five babies in succession.
Rose nearly flipped her desk over when Olivia informed her that once the training period was over, she would also be in charge of "scheduling all of Mr. Malfoy's professional and personal appointments for him."
She actually flipped her desk over when Olivia informed her that she would also have to personally bring Malfoy his stupid fucking cup of coffee everyday by 8:15 AM sharp, that she will have to attend any and all business meetings that he may have in order to take notes and make transcripts, that she is contracted to accompany him to all overnight business trips in order to cater to his every fucking need, that she is expected to go out of her way to bring him his bloody lunch every Friday because Fridays are his "busiest days"…
Humiliating.
That's the best word to describe this whole shit-storm of a job.
She already feels as if someone bludgeoned her ego with a beater's bat, and her personal assistant duties haven't even begun yet.
"To be honest…" Lily flourishes her wand once more and the tea kettle lifts itself off the stove and pours its contents into two stone mugs. "I don't understand why you hate him so much. Sure, he can be a bit cold and moody, but he's actually quite polite."
Rose snarls at her cousin like a hyena, her eyes narrowing into slits. "Polite?!?! I don't know what version of reality you live in, but Malfoy is the opposite of polite."
"Yeah. Maybe to you," Lily says with a smirk, using her wand once again to place the now filled tea mugs in front of both herself and Rose. "And that's because for all seven years you two were in class together, you literally tried to smack the bloody shit out of him every time he so much as breathed in your direction. You can't entirely blame him."
"I-wh…but…" Rose spluttered, feeling her face heat up in embarrassed rage. This is outrageous. How can her darling cousin and loyal flatmate defend Scorpius Malfoy? "He instigated shit too, and you KNOW it."
Lily pushes her slightly-too-large glasses back up the ridge of her nose before gracefully taking a seat at the kitchen table across from Rose, her lithe hands wrapping around her warm tea mug. She still has that knowing smirk on her lips.
"Yes, he definitely did. But a majority of the time, it was you, Rose," Lily implores, her voice taking on that "I know more than you do" tone that makes Rose want to throttle her. "Yes, Malfoy could be very sadistic, and yes, he was quite awful to you. But you were the one to always antagonize him first. You were constantly trying to pick a fight with him, even when the poor sod wanted nothing more than to sit there and read a bloody book. Don't try to deny it, Rose. Ask anyone who went to school with us and they'll tell you exactly what I just told you."
"Why the fuck does everyone have to side with him?" Rose spits furiously, her chest constricting at the very familiar prospect of her own flesh and blood defending Scorpius Malfoy.
Lily rolls her warm hazel eyes in exasperation. "C'mon, Rosie. Nobody is taking sides here. We aren't hormonal schoolyard children anymore, so why can't you just… I dunno… let it go?"
"I beg your fucking pardon?" Rose snarls through gritted teeth, doing everything in her power to abstain from chucking her very full, very hot tea mug right at her cousin's pretty heart-shaped face.
"Don't lose your temper with me," Lily warns her cousin with a dangerous glint in her eye. "All I'm saying is that we are adults now, and any petty grudges we may have had back at Hogwarts don't matter anymore. So you shouldn't let some teenage rivalry ruin your chance at salvaging your reputation and career. You should at least try to be civil with Malfoy. He's your boss now."
In the logical part of Rose's volcanically swirling brain, she knows that Lily is absolutely right.
Nevertheless, her little vendetta with Malfoy goes far beyond the realms of mere teenage rivalry.
Rose scoffs angrily and shakes her head. "It's not that simple."
"What isn't simple about it?" Lily presses incredulously, now obviously annoyed at her cousin's petulant stubbornness on the matter. "You haven't even interacted with the man in eight bloody years and you still act as if he is the absolute bane of your entire existence. Am I missing something here? Did something else happen between you two that I'm not aware of?"
Rose grabs her tea mug and takes a large gulp, the hot liquid scalding her tongue and throat mercilessly as it travels down her esophagus. She winces at the sensation as she slams her mug back down on the table with a resounding thud.
"I don't want to talk about Saint Fuckface Malfoy anymore," she grumbles darkly, her eyes now tracing repetitive patterns over the small cracks that coat the surface of the kitchen table.
Lily cocks an eyebrow and casts Rose a curious look, a plethora of questions dancing on the tip of her tongue.
CRACK.
The two cousins jump in their seats and yell out a number of expletives at the unpleasant, earsplitting sound of somebody apparating into their kitchen.
"Sorry, sorry!! I know I should've just flooed. I'm just tired of getting soot all over my goddamn robes!!"
A frazzled Evangeline Chang suddenly makes her appearance, and it is obvious that the poor woman is overworked and a bit on edge, judging by the dark circles under her eyes and the slightly deranged glint in her forced smile.
Rose is honestly glad that she lacks the patience, compassion, and understanding to be a healer.
Lily's eyes light up considerably at the sight of her girlfriend, and she jumps up with a squeal of delight before wrapping the girl in an embrace that nearly sends them both toppling to the ground. .
"Angel! Oh, how I've missed you," Lily exclaims in between her enthusiastic onslaught of kisses.
Evangeline laughs affectionately as she kisses her back, the stress visibly melting from her body as she embraces the shorter, lithe redhead with a genuine warmth that makes even Rose's heart skip a beat.
Rose usually loathes being in the presence of any form of PDA, but for some reason, she doesn't mind it so much from Lily and Evangeline.
It might also have to do with the fact that they are the only two people that Rose can live with without wanting to commit some type of grisly homicide.
Nevertheless, the vexed Weasley is still ticked off at Lily for defending Scorpius Malfoy, and she doesn't necessarily feel like watching her two flatmates snog each other.
Rose promptly jumps to her feet, hoping that the two other girls would be too enamored with each other's presence to notice her make an escape. Unfortunately, Evangeline is too polite to not say hello, even in the midst of snogging her girlfriend.
"Hey Rose!" chirps the pretty raven-haired girl brightly as she detaches herself from a pouting Lily. "How's the new job going?"
Rose internally groans, but stalls in her pursuit of the door. "It sucks dick, and not the good kind." She can't help but smirk at her own immature wit. "But as your girlfriend so helpfully pointed out, it's all I've got going for me right now, so I have no choice but to take it whole and deepthroat that shit."
Her two very gay flatmates make visible faces of distaste at Rose's dick-centric verbiage.
"All dick is bad dick," quips Evangeline, wrinkling her nose. "Found that out during my fifth year and never went back."
"At least you only had one straight shag to realize that it wasn't for you," says Lily with a devious, almost boastful smile on her plump lips. "It took me six shitty boyfriends and ten lackluster fucks in the room of requirement before I realized that I find men sexually deplorable."
"Oh, I remember," Evangeline responds almost coolly, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "You earned the title of 'the Hogwarts Slag' during sixth year after Amelia Thomas caught Robert LeGrande eating you out in the girl's washroom."
Lily scoffs, but Rose doesn't miss the playfully sensual glint in her cousin's eyes as she looks at Evangeline. "He slobbered on everything except for my clit, so I can assure you that it was hardly a memorable experience," she says with mirth before sauntering closer to her girlfriend until she can slyly snake her arms around the taller girl's waist. "In fact, Amelia Thomas walking in on us was probably the most arousing part of that whole experience. Why? You jealous or something?"
Evangeline's eyes darken with lust as she drinks in her girlfriend's smouldering expression.
"Do you want me to be?" she asks in a husky voice.
And… that is Rose's cue to leave.
She can always tell when Lily and Evangeline's casual back-and-forth conversation morphs into their weird form of sexual verbal foreplay, and given that Evangeline has spent the last two weeks damn near living at St Mungo's, Lily is probably desperate for some alone time with her girlfriend.
Rose swiftly makes her exit from the kitchen before she can bear witness to another minute of her cousin's sexual escapade, and makes her way to her room on the other side of the flat.
She enters her sanctuary, closes the door behind her, and glances out her large bedroom window to see the last bits of sunlight slowly disappear over the horizon. A part of her wants to grab her broom and go for a solo game of Quidditch to tire herself out before bed, but the idea of hopping on a broomstick knowing that she can never play professionally again still makes her feel nauseous.
Rose falls backwards on her bed, emitting a long, dejected sigh. Despite her exhaustion, she still feels an intense pit of annoyance at the fact that Lily would just defend Malfoy like that.
What right does she even have? Lily wasn't even in their year; she was two years below them at Hogwarts! She didn't get to see all of the other times that Malfoy went out of his way to antagonize her, to make her life absolutely miserable, to threaten her, to…confuse her.
Lily has no idea just how far things went with that cold-hearted, sinister bastard.
Nobody does.
Rose scowls and turns on her side so that she's staring straight at her bedroom door.
The universe has to be playing some sort of cruel trick on her. First she loses absolute control of her temper for the first time in years, resulting in her nearly murdering someone, before being kicked off the Quidditch team of her dreams. Then when she's offered a decent alternative career to get back on her feet, she finds out that she has to bring Scorpius Malfoy, her new boss, his bloody cup of coffee every fucking morning amongst other things.
Rose squeezes her eyes shut as another fresh surge of anger courses through her veins.
At least she still has a week of desk training to complete. She wouldn't have to deal with Scorpius Malfoy and his stupid, unnecessary requests until next Monday.
Just as she forces herself to count backwards from ten while taking deep, stalled breaths, Rose hears a tapping noise at her window. She lifts her head up from her pillow to see a handsome tawny owl perched on her windowsill hitting the glass with its outstretched claw, an envelope fastened to its digits.
"What the fuck…" Rose murmurs, wondering who the hell would try to owl her on a Sunday evening. She grabs her wand from her bedside table and points it at the window wordlessly, unlocking and opening it in a single swift motion.
The owl emits a screech and flies into her room, landing on the far edge of her bed frame at the foot of her bed.
Rose leans forward and unfastens the letter from the owl's claws, and her heart drops considerably when she notices the unmistakable Ministry of Magic stamp that keeps the envelope sealed shut.
"Bugger…" whispers Rose under her breath as she rips the envelope open, pulls out the piece of parchment inside, and unfolds it to read its contents.
Dear Rose Weasley,
Given your swift and stellar performance in carrying out administrative duties for the Department of Magical Games and Sports this past week, it has been decided that your training period Is over, and you are now officially hired on as a permanent Ministry of Magic employee.
This means that you will be expected to perform your personal duties to the Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports starting tomorrow morning as listed in your signed contract. This also means that you are to start your sessions with Healer Jones this week as opposed to next week. The department will cover all costs and expenses of your sessions as stated in your signed contract.
For your swift and stellar performance during desk training, the Head of the Department has agreed to give you a post-hire raise of one galleon per hour during office hours.
Attached is a list of weekly duties (separated by day, listed by time) to be consistently carried out by the personal assistant to the Head of the Department. Please study this list carefully and become familiar with its contents.
Wishing you a Pleasant Evening,
Olivia Orford ~
Head of the British and Irish Quidditch League Division, and Department Recruiter
Department of Magical Games and Sports
Rose closes her eyes and wills herself not to blast a hole through her bedroom door. Oh, how her hard work has paid off! Now she gets to start bringing Saint Pureblood Elitist Malfoy his stupid fucking coffee a week early.
For one more galleon an hour.
Bollocks.
————
Her hands are bound above her, her wrists pressed firmly against ancient cold stone. The air is thick and heavy with an aromatic mixture of sweat, endorphins, and the distinct scent of a certain deliciously sharp cologne.
The shapes and colors in her line of vision are fuzzy and indistinct, melding together to create a thick maelstrom of oddly distorted lines and squiggles that hold no meaning to her.
But she can feel it.
She can feel him.
A rich, tingling warmth slowly, but steadily builds in the crevice below her abdomen. The perfect rhythmic pressure of a tongue consistently lapping away at her exposed sweet spot causes her to writhe and gasp out loud.
An electric jolt of pain shoots down the length of her outstretched arms as she struggles against the ropes that bind her wrists together, but the blissful, wet pressure against her clit does not cease, and she can't help but emit a loud, breathy moan of pleasure.
There's something wickedly enticing and carnally gratifying about being in this vulnerable position— arms and wrists bound above her head so that she is forced to release any semblance of control, knickers and jumper discarded loosely around her ankles, as he hungrily laps away all the juices from her shamelessly dripping pussy.
He's playing her like an instrument. She's nothing but putty in his hands. She swears she can feel the bastard smirk against her flesh with each shudder, whimper, and moan that slips from her lips.
The beautiful slurping sounds of his mouth against her sensitive flesh, along with his wickedly skilled tongue causes her to damn near lose her mind. She can't help but squirm as that tingling pressure below her abdomen grows into an uncontrollable wave of endorphins that threatens to throw her straight over the edge. With firm hands, the man pleasuring her grabs the back of her bare thighs to hold her in place so that she can't escape her impending orgasm.
She looks down to the man whose face is buried between her legs, and through her blurred, misshapen vision, she can make out a pair of molten silver eyes staring straight at her with a strange mixture of icy determination and heated desire.
And just like that, she comes into complete oblivion.
Rose wakes up with a strangled gasp and quickly sits up in her bed, her blankets and sheets a tangled mess around her limbs.
She's sweaty, disoriented, and… horny?!
Did she seriously just have a wet dream?
She still feels that intense, tingling warmth just below her abdomen. She can also tell that her knickers are soaking wet.
Rose exhales and squeezes her eyes shut, running a hand through her coarse, tangled curls as her brain relentlessly repeats the vivid imagery of being bound and eaten out by a certain silver-eyed man that-shall-not-be-named.
She grits her teeth with a mixture of shame and revulsion as she desperately attempts to shake the sinful images from her brain.
This wouldn't be the first time that she's had an extremely vivid wet dream about him.
Rose groans out loud and looks over at the clock sitting on her bedside table. It's three AM, and she technically has three more hours before she has to wake up and get ready for work, but she knows that there is no way in hell she will be able to fall back asleep.
Heaving another sigh, she rolls out of bed, and grabs her wand, emitting a small "Lumos," so that she can see through the darkness of her room.
The sky is pitch black outside, with small accents of gray that mark the presence of a thick fog. Rose bends down to pull her Firebolt 760 from underneath her bed. She figures that a solo, early morning Quidditch game would do her wonders right now.
Rose needs something to grasp onto.
Anything.
Anything to distract her from her unwanted, sexual desire for her sworn enemy.
Anything to distract her from the fact that she literally orgasmed in her sleep all because of him.
Anything to distract her from the fact that the dream felt far too real.
——-