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Post by `narcissa virga black on Jul 23, 2011 16:59:59 GMT -5
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beautiful & dirty rich , It was almost amusing, Narcissa Black supposed, that the only grass that was still fluffy, green, and inviting was on the quiddich pitch. She was bundled up for the weather had turned rather chilly with the turn of the month, but she still wanted to be outside. The castle was so stuffy and the feeling of excitement had died down. Everyone had been thrilled to examine the new transfers in September and then no one had shut up about the masquerade in November. Now, however, everything had settled down. The Holidays were still far too far away to really be excited for, though everything had already begun to count down the days. But the weather was fresh smelling and was about to become a rare pleasure for the youngest Black sister. She would be trapped within the castle and then within her parents’ home soon enough. She dreaded the stuffy, dry-hot feeling that would come from the constant fires and closed windows.
Narcissa had slipped out passed the doors after dinner. She looked around, buttoning up her jacket over her sweater but leaving her cloak open. She wanted to still stay in the sun, so all of her usual spots leaning against a tree were out of the running. She also wanted to stay away from the lake for fear someone would do something that would cause the cool, murky water to splash up on her. But there, there was the general problem that all the grass was dying or covered by crunch brown leaves. She pressed onward, the ground almost already solid enough for her healed-boots to be walked in comfortably.
She slipped onto the quidditch pitch, looking around for any trace of another person. There was no practice today, but there was always the occasional player that retreated to the pitch for a private practice session to look for. She saw none at the moment, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t eventually be interrupted. There was also the common activity of bringing your current paramour down under the pitch’s stands for a snog- or more. Narcissa had never been one of those girls, never had she wanted to be. She found that sort of activity disgusting, even if she was becoming more and more excited by the kisses she received.
She swallowed, a pang of guilt running through her body and causing her cheeks to flush. Never in her life would she have imagined her behavior last year. She was her own potions teacher’s soiled dove; her throat going dry when she spotted him, her legs turning to jelly when he touched her, and her heart threatening to explode when he kissed her. Her was well practiced, but in a mature sort of way. And he had this way of making her feel cherished; as if each of her smiles was worth a thousand galleons to him. There was an ease of being with him that she’d never experienced before, and she supposed it had quite a lot to do with how comfortable he appeared with her.
But that man wasn’t Lucius. That man wasn’t the boy and then young gentlemen she’d pined for her whole life. She’d grown up as his play mate and managed to reform him to fit her needs when he went astray. He’d been ever so good on her probation and she was ever so happy to on his arm. His kisses were different and his touches were more reserved and tender. They were beyond wonderful in their own way, as were his gentle touches and presses. It was as if he felt she’d run or break if she felt his menhood pressed against her. That was so touching and beautiful in itself; he cared about her enough to want to protect her from himself.
But both of them were tall with that stunning tormented, stormy sea-grey colored eyes. They also had white-blond hair that was soft to the touch and a pleasure to run her fingers through. Perhaps Phineas has a bit of a bigger build, but he also has years on him. Lucius, she was sure, would look better without his shirt on. When that thought crossed her path, her eyes went wide and her cheeks turned a dark crimson. She was embarrassed she’d even let her mind wander that far into the topic. She looked around, as if she wanted to check to see if there was a mind-reader or diviner standing behind her.
When she saw no one around, Narcissa pulled her cloak off and placed it on the ground. She relaxed onto it, fixing her skirt, scarf, and jacket back into the proper place. She withdrew a catalog from her bag; followed by a textbook she really had little interest in opening.
WORDS: 794
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Post by Lucius Phineas Malfoy on Aug 1, 2011 20:53:28 GMT -5
Lucius had wanted nothing more than to make his father proud of him. This morning, he had received a letter about his “conduct”. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been chastised for his behavior before, but his father had heard about the rather loud disagreements that he had been having with Professor Cadmus. Lucius had certainly been disrespectful, and Abraxas didn’t want Lucius starting any sort of a ruckus with the man. Some of the accusations that he had flung at the Professor carried a heavy weight with them and some could consider them slander. Needless to say, it was something that his father just did not want to have to smooth over. It irked Lucius to no end, that he was being told to calm down by his father, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to help himself if the Professor kept on treating Narcissa so poorly.
It was an odd feeling, arguing with that man. He couldn’t ever seem to get the upper hand on the man. For a boy of his age, he was usually quite adept with words, even to the point of being able to outwit a portion of adults. Professor Cadmus seemed like he knew what Lucius was going to say before it came out of his own mouth and knew exactly what to say to frustrate and control the boy. It was like arguing with a much wiser version of him and that angered him greatly. His gloves slid over his hand easily, the leather caressing his skin like an old friend. The level of frustration within the boy was high, especially since his father had also included an assessment of his charms marks and his sudden lack of fire whiskey in the cabinet at home. Sighing, he picked up his broom and a quaffle, stepping out onto the empty pitch, sighing.
He could see his breath before him as he exhaled. It was getting much colder now, even during the day. The chilly breeze didn’t seem to bother Lucius much as he mounted his broom and flew upward toward the goal posts on the far end of the field. Slowing down, he pulled out his wand and charmed the quaffle too hover and aim for the goals. He set himself up, clenching his hands before flicking his wand and rolling over in front of one of the goals, kicking out with his feet and sending the quaffle flying high above his head and out of the pitch. It gave Lucius some sort of satisfaction, keeping. He knew he was decent and his captainship was a source of pride for him, really the only one that he hadn’t inherited from either of his parents. It was entirely his own, and even though he knew he wouldn’t be able to carry on with it once he left school, he was determined to be the best for this one, last year. When he had been younger, he had once held to the dream of getting to fly for his job, but that was one of many fantasies that Lucius had learned were best left behind. They only led to disappointment in the end.
Lucius sighed once again, his irritations just beginning to be satiated as he flew around the empty pitch once, before banking left to fly out of the pitch and retrieve the quaffle. Landing beside it, he noticed how brown the grass outside of the pitch had become. This was his least favorite time of year. It wasn’t that he hated the cold, no, he hated the interim periods between the winter and summer. It was like someone was teasing with the promise of what was to come, but making you wait for months before getting what you are waiting for. He picked it up in his hands, weighing the ball in his hand, feeling the familiar pressure. Tossing it in the air, he caught it with a grin, starting to mess around, kicking it up, and chasing after it. He reached high speeds, messing about without any of the previous cares. Flying always helped him forget about his responsibilities and problems. Though it was cold outside, he was getting rather hot, stripping down to his white undershirt as he flew, tying it around the handle of his broom. He started doing some exercises on his broom as he flew back in the pitch, ducking and weaving, loops and pull ups on his broom.
Lucius hadn’t quite noticed at first that he was not alone when he came back from retrieving the quaffle. It was only in the middle of an arcing loop that he caught sight of an extremely familiar head of blonde hair. His lips spread into a smile that could have been seen from the school as he descended to her on the green grass, landing in a run and stopping just by her, still slightly out of breath, exerted from his practicing. He kneeled down quickly in the grass beside her and kissed her gently before saying anything. He quickly laid his broom next to him in the grass. “Hello Cissa.” He was happier than he could have imagined an hour or two ago at the sight of her.
His hand absently played with the necklace that his mother had given him as a boy as he smiled at her, leaning back on his other arm. “How have you been?” His smiled never faltered as he looked at her. “It seems like an awfully chilly day to be out and studying.” His fingers ran through the grass after a little while of playing with the cold metal, letting the snake fall back to his chest. “Though I suppose we won’t see this.” He held out his hand, indicating to the spread of green all around them, “For quite some time when the frost finally sets in.” All of his previous stress was there, but hidden by his current distractions. It wouldn’t be until later tonight until they set back in and he would have to go wander about the castle to find some first year to take his frustration out on.
Word Count: 1,028
Wearing: This.
Notes: Seeing his Cissa makes baby lucius happeh. |
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