Azalea Murray Head of Slytherin
Posts : 664 Birthday : 1993-08-13 Join date : 2018-01-11 Location : Hogwarts or Surrey mostly Job/hobbies : Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts
| Subject: Would You Mind If I Hurt You (One Shot) Fri Jul 03, 2020 8:56 pm | |
| Kissing him felt like a breath of fresh air. Beautiful, exhilarating oxygen entering lungs that have been deprived of it for too long.
*** “Bye Miss Harington, have a good summer.”
“You too Nikolai, keep up the good work and you won’t have to worry about your OWLs at all.”
“What about me, Miss Harrington, do I have something to worry about?”
“You do, but we only have a few minutes Charles. Come to me when you can spare an hour or four.”
The small group of boys burst out laughing with Ji Hyun’s not so subtle “Getting Dittany for that burn mate” ringing in the background. Boys will be boys, it was probably the one truth universally acknowledged. And despite the fact that they were not the students Azalea wanted to see off from the castle, the witch was still glad she had come down to the entrance hall. Mimosa had left a day prior, almost without fanfare, at least by the young model’s standards and Jake had left even before that. Whatever clause he had worked into his contract did not require him to stay for the final days to supervise students going home for the holidays.
He hadn’t tried to reach her beyond a text informing Azalea that Clara had arrived and assumed charge of the Newbury Household. She hadn’t replied, hoping the blue tick next to his text said it all.
“Miss Azalea, good summer,” Karan was the next one out, probably hoping to catch up to a certain Ravenclaw he seemed inseparable from these days.
“You too Karan, don’t work so hard. Exams are over; it’s okay to take a break.”
There was no point in staying awake at night trying to work out why he hadn’t reached out. It was a mistake, plain and simple. What they had done was wrong. And she was more in the wrong than he was. He wasn’t in a relationship-
“Processor Harrington, are you sure you gave us enough homework for the summer?”
“Quite sure, Seema, run along now. And I expect only three feet of parchment, not seven like last time.”
In a happy relationship, the brunette corrected herself. She was in a happy and fulfilling relationship with a man who was absurdly fond of her and a child who needed her. There was absolutely no excuse for what she had done and if the world was fair, she would have been caught out and punished by now. But she hadn’t. The world had kept on turning as usual with Josh’s prompt text arriving exactly when expected, letting her know when to expect him and Ethan the next day.
The normalcy mocked her with it’s normal-ness, until it felt as if Azalea would spontaneously shout her secret out to the world because someone needed to know hat she had done.
Someone needed to know she had betrayed the most perfect relationship she had ever had.
And that she had enjoyed doing it.
“Miss Harington, looking forwards to the summer?”
“Not as much as I’d like, Mariah. Not as much as I’d like.”
***
It had filled her with a sensation she could only compare to life coming back to a comatose body, flashes of impulses, jolts of electricity running through her veins, short circuiting her mental faculties but reminding her what it felt like to finally feel something. How long had it been since she had truly felt? Too long, the sensation reminded her.
*** “You know A-Azalea, it isn’t just Ethan who’s missed you.” His tone was careful, casual, he was still engrossed in the evening paper as he had been when the nannies had taken Ethan to prepare the toddler for his bath. And yet Azalea felt somehow admonished.
“I’m sorry,” the brunette replied, looking appropriately apologetic. Josh would never know how sorry she was but this seemed like a good start.
The blond raised an eyebrow at her before neatly folding his paper closed. Setting the parchment aside, he rose from his seat and closed the small gap between them, joining her by the large bay window through which evening stars were already twinkling in the sky.
“I don’t think that form of apology is acceptable,” he countered, his lips curved ever so slightly upwards in the smile he only reserved for her and Ethan. “If you are truly remorseful, I’m sure we can think of better ways to make amends.” To demonstrate, the Murray heir reached out a hand to slightly brush a lock of her shimmering brown hair from her face, making her shiver in the process.
***
It was a moment of pure heat, lust, a carnal craving that had no place in society. Both their deepest, most desperate desires had coiled into each other and become one until it was hard to understand where her body ended and his begin. But it wasn’t just the physical sensation. It was a barrage of memories systematically assaulting her senses, telling a story too fast to understand but giving her enough feeling to convey what they had once meant to her.
What they might still mean to her.
*** “I used to dance when I was younger, didn’t I?”
Josh looks up from his book, his eyes ready to answer but then something stops him. Or is it her imagination? Was he about to agree with her? But how would he know? It was a strange question to ask and even stranger to expect an answer. Instead of a reply, Josh merely quirks a questioning eyebrow her way.
“I just meant… Do we have a dance studio in here? I’d like to try and get back into shape.”
“And to what do we owe this revelation?”
“Well, if I get fat, you might not find me as appealing,” she laughed, or tried to anyway. Before the first few peals of laughter were spilling from her lips, Josh was by her side, pressing her against the loveseat with a kind of warmth she was used to by now. Used to but questioning every day. His lips pressed hard against hers, not enough to hurt but definitely enough to leave a reminder of their presence long after they had left.
“There is no version of you I would ever not want,” he whispers, making her slender frame shudder once again.
The next minute, he is gone, back in his seat with his book opened to the same page he had left it on. For a moment, Azalea wonders if she has dreamt the small sequence. But the rawness of her lips say otherwise. Taking a deep breath, the witch steadies herself, trying to remember what the conversation had been earlier.
“So… Do we have a studio?”
“We do,’ the Welsh wizard replies neutrally. “It hasn’t seen much use in a while though, but I’ll have the servants clean it out for you.”
***
That’s what that kiss was. It made her feel, it made her remember. It made her hurt and it made her soar. It made her want to cry and it made her want to die but it also made her want to live.
It made her want to dance again. ________________________________________________ | |
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The Administrator
Posts : 1364 Join date : 2015-12-20
| Subject: Re: Would You Mind If I Hurt You (One Shot) Sun Jul 05, 2020 9:59 am | |
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