Michaela Boot should be much too smart for this. (perfectionist) wrote in backway,
"True," she conceded, dropping his hand onto her lap in under to pick up her quill again and add the bit about short skirts. "I think we should make consequences, too. Like.. If we get married and we don't have a duck farm, then I should lose something that I really, reallyo love, like... your voice."
Snatching his hand back from her lap, Quinn clapped it to his throat. "My voice? But that isn't fair."
"What do you love about me? We can add that, too."
Blinking, Quinn reached out and moved a piece of her hair behind her ear, letting his fingers twist into it. "Everything."
"My hair? Does that work?" Cho asked, blushing.
"I don't want you to lose your hair," he told her.
"The consequences have to be bad," she said. "Would you rather I lost my legs or your presents?"
Eyes widening, he shook his head violently. "Well, you'd still be beautiful. Even bald."
"My hair and your voice can fly off into the sunset together," Cho said, blushing as she began writing again. "Anyway, I won't be bald because we'll be married."
"And live happily ever after," he finished, watching her for a beat before returning to his essay.
"With our two children," she said.
"Two children?" he asked, looking up in order to raise an eyebrow. "At least you aren't asking for a Quidditch team."
"I only plan on having--" She glanced around the library to make sure no one was listening or watching. "--sex with you twice."
"Sure you are," he laughed, pressing quill to parchment. "But you know what they say about the best laid plans."
Cho smiled. "So I should count on a quidditch team?"
"Or you should get some really excellent birth control potions," he suggested without looking up. "I suggest the latter."
"How's that homework coming?" Cho asked, raising an eyebrow.