Captains Along Rest in Nest

You probably wonder why. Or maybe even not. No matter your statements it's just the way it is, right?
This attitude is obvious. Sure you don't like him, you probably never thought about it.
Yet isn't it strange? Or is it expectable since Gryffindors and Slytherins are supposed to dislike each other and have all more than cold relationships?
You hate him, no doubt, but you rather don't mind him - just pretend he, as another of your problems, doesn't exist and everything will be ok. He is not visible to you. Doesn't exist. Doesn't stand in your way. Right now.
You have to admitt that you are more pissed at his looks than of by all injuries he ever caused you. Allergy would be the right word.
Tha'd mean you hate his appearance and possibly even existence. (Ooh fucking his mother, what has thou done??) Still his acting was always a little bit weird. Why is it you?! No, he does have to pick up right on you!
You can remember on pitch, how he would foul you all the time.
And on the ground, teasing you.
Then fighting.
So many offences that they are long time out and frequently repeating.
You know, you hate him, too, but does he have cause handicap for even both of you as for serious Quidditch players?! So childish.
You can't hate him more.
*
"Hey, Wood, still can't catch up?" Flint said with stupidist look ever, perhaps he won't now. Wood suddenly felt his anger spread all over his body. "Go dig yourself!!" he shouted as Flint quickly flew away after Angelina who held Quaffle right then. It isn't even true. Well, once scored, what's the big deal?! Generally, Flint would be the one to catch up. Flint was taking liberties with Wood. He could not accept this! He got his chance to not let him go easily with it because George got near goals. For a second, he noticed Wood signposting his mind. The message of his pantomima was clear. Wood watched the game for a while since no one seemed to make his way with Quaffloe within rage. But that would be on both sides. Wood sighed. After a few minutes, Flint reached for Quaffle that was in held of Gryffindor when unexpectingly Budgler which never caused him much of trouble almost hit his arm. Few more minutes of nothing interesting. Sometimes, he just thought it could be better if he could only somehow reach his team-mates. He could at least lead them if nothing else! Argh. That little spacing out at this weird game - thinking that none before was so - so, slow and neutral like this one. Almost no action. Yeah, he had to take care of the Quaffle few times but it was nothing hard to do. He hoped that he'd see Flint down, maybe even literarily but this day Bludger seem to have brain. - allowed him to think deeper about his anger and the more time it took the less he concentrated at Quidditch. Thank god madame Hooch aborted the game because of the school. Fans were were frustrated and players even more. Mood that day was terrible in all cases. Only Wood didn't think about these. He was rather thinking of how he won't avoid Flint today and punch him good instead.
*
If you would ask I would tell you. It's a pity you are not intersted. Because everything is not always what it seems.
*
On the potion's lesson, he sat near him. Oh, no! Wood reacted immediately in his mind Tell me he's not going to offend me! Tell me it was not his intention to sit within reach of kick! Wood sighed and rolled with hazelnut eyes.
*
If you would ask him, he would clearly teach you of how is it: he simply hates you so much he enjoys himself tyrannizeing you.
If you would ask me, I would tell you.
He just needs to reach for you daily somehow.
He can't stop imagineing your coppery brown hair in sunlight.
He has to convice himself he isn't insane.
He needs to haul your care. You focusing on him - for any lenght of time!
He must explain that he knows your every steps, that he even knows something more about you in some way.
He mustn't get under suspection when he seeks you!
H is desperate, doesn't even understand himself.
He is that way from the very first time he smelled you years ago when you both were kids.
But you don't ask questions.
*
...Maybe you just CAN hate him more every day he told to himself as Flint whispered some sentences to Woods ear, as horrible, annoying and irritating, as he could expect from that nag, exactly at the moment Snape was wandering around.  Great.

He Is Different - originally written by Miraella, translation from czech by The Writer of So Slash:

Offences. Hostile glances. Flout.

Lonesome classroom. Quiet. No one around. You are alone. The two of you. Only You and Him. He, you. It's dark. Your bare bodies are poorly lighted by gleams of burning candles. Dabs. Osculations. Silent words. He whispers to your hair. Letch. Desire. Two bare bodies. Of you two. And then...

Offences again. Malicious gossip, stilly words of hatred.

Prefects' bath. It's again you two. Sobby flooring with trails after your feet. He in shower. Embrace - clasp. Kissing. Imprecations with remissions. Now it's only you, none other. Passion, sogginess... Cold walls. He in you -

You'll meet. Couple of grudging eyes. You are sorry. Why is this him?

Black night. You are after him, following him to the lake. ,,Still you?" he interposes as amused as he is. You lowly let him benumb you by his first word. You enjoy it, so long as you know that he is only yours. It is going to be the other way when a day arrives. You are hardly trying to not to think about it. You. Him. Soft ground. You lie, you kiss the other. Morning occurs.

Quidditch pitch. Hostile glances.

,,I booked the pitch for Gryffindor, Flint!"

,,Easy, Wood. I've got a note." he answers with familiar sneering face.

He is not like he was the evening before. He is different.

Perhaps, that day will remain in our minds as grand opening of Captains Along! (nevermind, I always wanted to try those weird talks)

(note: you, don't even ask me about the name "Captains Along Rest in Nest" - it does not make any sense even to me and I thought it out! XD Yeah, out of nothing. But it sounds nice. ;DD ...Well.. Kind of. XD)