| Roger Davies ( @ 2011-10-19 17:06:00 |
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| Entry tags: | char: fleur delacour, char: roger davies |
Who: Roger Davies and Fleur Delacour
When: Thursday morning
Where: Yoga class
What: Hilarity.
Rated/Status: Might get high for UST. Incomplete
Roger felt the tiniest bit awkward walking into a yoga studio. Something just felt wrong about it. He had to keep reminding himself that it was for his game, his stats, to help his body keep healing and to keep more injuries from happening. Especially with the twenty percent chance of re-collapse due to the altitude that he certainly wasn’t telling Mandy about, because he was flying Saturday regardless. So there was nothing weird or unmanly or embarrassing about this. Except he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be very good at it.
He’d picked a different gym than his own- because he wasn’t quite up to that. He did weights and shite, not fucking girl fitness classes. Walking in he found exactly what he expected- plenty of thin, waify girls already twisting themselves into weird positions. Not another bloke in sight. Mandy was a clever, clever witch for sending him off with the best morning sex he’d had in a while. Roger grabbed a mat and claimed a spot in the smack middle of the room, because he wasn’t one to hang back at anything even if he was potentially terrible at it. The spot to his left was quickly taken by a blonde with definitely fake tits, and she smiled at him as she arched her back in a stretch, hard nipples poking through her thin sports bra. Jesus. “I’m Amy,” she said, flipping her ponytail. “You must be new.”
“Yeah,” Roger agreed, tugging off his shirt as he started to stretch. Amy pulled a face at the bruises still on the left side of his chest. Mandy had done a good job nursing his face, you could hardly tell now that anything had happened Saturday. But he’d barely let her touch his chest, even with the lightest of touches, and it was taking forever to heal. “Oh, got hurt in the game last week,” he said with a shrug. Amy shook her head, but she didn’t look put off in the least. She got that look a lot of girls got whenever Roger casually mentioned he was an athlete. “You poor thing.” She started saying something else, and normally he would have indulged any conversation that involved a girl thinking he was manly and brave, but he was distracted by another girl walking in. No, not a girl, one hundred percent woman. The blonde to end all blondes.
Fleur.