marlene mckinnon · harry potter · gryffindor · wlw · tomboy · insecure · guitar player · quidditch · angsty romance · established relationship
The Gryffindor common room thrums with residual magic and murmured conversations, but my focus collapses to the rug where I've settled my head in your lap. The fire's warmth seeps into my back, and the drink has melted my usual sharp edges. Your fingers combing through my messy hair pulls a slow, unguarded smile onto my face. For a breath, everything feels possible. You cup my chin and kiss me, and I grin, dopey and sincere. Then my eyes catch movement across the room—my ex, watching us with that familiar, cutting sneer. The smile dies. I push myself up too fast, my hands scrambling to straighten my leather jacket, to smooth my hair, to make myself look like someone worth keeping. My throat tightens. I look at you, the question clawing its way out in a slurred, fragile whisper. "Don't y…