Gwendolyn Morgan is a serial snogger. (harpy) wrote in enemies_rpg, @ 2013-01-26 00:38:00 |
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NEWTs weren't the most pressing thing in Gwen's mind just now, rather, her Charms essay was, although it had also slipped in importance in comparison to the list she'd just started writing up on a torn off piece of parchment. She was ensconced at her familiar table in the middle, back of the library, books spread around, along with an assortment of crumpled notes, quills, and a half full ink pot. It was one of her favourite places, and any of her friends who wished to find her in between class periods would usually find her here if she wasn't in Gryffindor Tower or on the pitch. She scribbled messily, her quill shedding haphazard blots as she made her way down the parchment. Her blond head bent over her work as she wrote, tapping her fingers here and there in thought. Rosie, Lizzy, Mairead, Barty, My new best friends F and A, Caradoc, Bilius, Inigo, She was fairly certain that was everyone. A trip to the library was hardly ever exciting, but it was quite necessary, wasn’t it? Inigo had really only come to check out a book for an essay, but when he spotted Gwen sitting in the library, he decided that it couldn’t hurt to say hello. Stopping at the seat just opposite of her, he placed his hand on the back of it. “Is this seat taken?” He asked in a whisper, a small grin appearing. Gwen looked up from her paper, her expression clearing when she saw Inigo, and an answering smile lit up her face as she pushed her hair behind her ears and shook her head. "Well I was holding it for Walburga Black but somehow she had other plans." She whispered back conspiratorially. She gave a heartfelt and obviously false sigh of regret, then stretched her leg under the table to push the chair out from under by the rungs. "But --- I suppose I wouldn't mind if you sat here instead." Without bothering to be neat she shoved some of her books and notes to one side, so he could set his book down. He dropped into the seat -- a bit too loudly, likely -- and set his book down with a great deal more care. There was no need to have the librarian -- or Irma Pince, if she happened to be around -- breathing down his neck for causing a disturbance. “I’m relieved to hear that she couldn’t make it, as I’d hate to have nowhere to sit.” He supposed, at least, if she felt the need to insult someone, it was at least someone with obvious disdain for -- well, just about everyone. “What’re you studying, then?” "Charms." Gwen opened and shut the flap of her book in a show of pretended productivity. "Ostensibly." The list was near and she picked it up and shoved it in the front of the book, the top bit hanging out just enough so as it wouldn't be lost. "But I keep getting distracted." She shifted in her chair and flicked her hair over one shoulder as she looked at him. "I bet you never have that problem." Her voice wasn't nearly as quiet as it should be, but it never was, and honestly, she had a lot less fear of detention or being punished as the average student. And she only had five months left. A life free of detention. She couldn't wait. “Me? I’ve that problem all the time. Well, mostly when I’ve friends nearby. It’s difficult to stay on task when I could be teasing them instead.” He shrugged, still grinning a bit. It was particularly difficult to study in the company of Arkie, as they never seemed to be able to stay on task. Unless he was catching Arkie up in Divination, as he was never quite convinced that Arkie paid a lick of attention in class. “But I can’t imagine that my presence will provide much assistance in keeping you focused, as much as I’d like to help.” "Are you saying you're distracting?" Gwen reached for her essay and ran her quill down the edge of the margin. Since their little talk the other evening, she had been relatively quiet regarding Inigo. She thought he was a nice bloke, and Merlin he was a good snogger, but the oddity of the conversation made her put her barriers back up, nice and fresh and whole. "I only have five more inches, and I bet I can finish it, even with you sitting there." Inigo laughed, quietly, at her words. “You think so?” He asked, raising his eyebrows slightly. “What will I get when I win this bet, then?” Not that he was absolutely certain that he could win, but he certainly thought that there was a very good chance that he could. It didn’t take much to distract a girl that you knew was attracted to you, given that you knew the right way to go about it. Gwen folded her hands neatly across her parchment and looked at him with up-raised eyebrows. If there was anyone who would respond to any dare or challenge ever and do everything she could to beat it, it was her. "You mean what do I get when you lose?" She gave him a mischievous little half smile and tilted her head to one side, considering. "What do you want?" Meeting her gaze with a smirk, he leaned back in his chair slightly. “What do you think I want?” It wasn’t really a question, not with the suggestive tone that had snuck into his voice as he asked. He couldn’t say a peep aloud about it, not with them being in public. “Because I doubt,” he began, getting out of his seat and moving around to the one next to her, “that it’s very difficult to guess.” He leaned forward, picking up her quill as if to assist her with something, tilting his head towards her with a grin. “Is it?” When he moved around, Gwen hid a smile, then gave him a wide eyed, innocent look back. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about. Although I suppose I could guess." She pulled out her list and ripped the bottom off, then passed the slip of parchment over to him. "I think you ought to write it down." Her fingers brushed over the back of his hand, then gently pulled away. He set the parchment in front of him, his left hand hiding it from her view. “I suppose I could,” he agreed, using the quill he’d already taken from her to start writing. “But you’ll have to tell me what you’d like in return,” he added, grinning over at her. Satisfied with his words, he shifted the parchment to once more be in front of Gwen. Gwen looked down at the parchment, small, twin spots of colour staining her cheeks as she read, then looked over at him, covered his words with the fingers of her left hand, and reached for the quill with the right. Shielding it with her arm, she leaned over slightly to write, her mouth curving up at the corners. She looked back over at him and slid the paper towards him as she gave him a bright smile, then reached for her Charms essay. He raised his eyebrows as he read the words on the parchment. Glancing over at her, he couldn’t help the smirk that appeared. “I’ve no idea whether I want to win or lose, any more,” he admitted, in a whisper, shaking his head slightly. “It’s quite the conundrum.” Either option sounded rather fantastic, really. He couldn’t even formulate a response to her on the parchment just then, not without giving it a bit of thought. "Me neither." For a minute Gwen grinned at him and put her head on his shoulder affectionately, in lieu of anything else that would probably not be a good idea in the middle of the library, then straightened back up and returned to her essay. Her fingers traced over the feather of her quill for a moment before she began to write. It was hard to find the thread of where she'd been, but she hated awfully to lose, no matter what it actually was, so she would try her best to finish the final five inches if it killed her. If all else failed she could write larger than normal. It took a moment, but then she remembered where she was, and for a short while, the only sound was the scratching of her quill as she wrote and the occasional rustle of paper. Indecisive, Inigo didn’t bother to attempt to distract her in that moment. It was hard to convince himself to, as he couldn’t help but thinking that he’d be winning regardless of who “won” in this situation. His only move, really, was to lean back and shift his leg to be pressed right up against hers. Not an intense distraction technique, merely a reminder that he was there. Waiting. For her to win, perhaps, so that he might reap the reward. As much as he quite liked the idea of winning himself, but -- well. He certainly wasn’t losing, even if he lost. The feeling of Inigo's leg against hers made Gwen smile to herself, and she pressed back, ever so slightly, his trousers slightly rough against the bare skin of her knee beneath her school skirt. She took a couple of seconds to pause and consider her next word. Extrasensory Charms, she was writing about Extrasensory Charms, and formulated the next sentence or two, before she slipped her school shoe off her foot and let it rub against his ankle. Inigo idly snagged the book he’d grabbed and flipped it open, skimming the pages as he searched for the part that was actually relevant to his essay. “Almost done?” He asked, without taking his eyes off the book, a small grin on his lips. He had absolutely no problem pretending as though her foot wasn’t against his ankle, while still enjoying the perks of it happening. "Still writing." She snuggled closer to his side, or at least as close as their two chairs would permit, her elbow bumping his as she wrote. Her quill jerked slightly, but she managed a couple of sentences before she had to pause and think. In the interim, she reached across with her quill and scribbled on the parchment that held their wagers. It's too bad there's no place to snog in the library. The quill's tip went back to her essay as she struggled to keep her eyes on it and not on him. He laughed -- a little too loudly, for the library -- as he read the words on the parchment. Snagging a quill, he wrote a reply of his own. Finish your essay. Or don’t. And then we’ll snog. He dropped it on top of her essay, to be certain that she’d read it, and watched for her reaction. Gwen looked down at the parchment that fell from his fingers, then, with a ladylike gesture that would have made Amaltheia Burke proud, picked it up by the tips of her fingers and daintily set it aside. She gave him a saucy little sidelong glance, and her knee nudged his again, even as her foot slowly slid up the side of his leg. It was harder to write that way, but somehow she managed. "You should think about your wager," she whispered. "Maybe get a head start." He leaned in, then, to make his very quiet whisper carry to her ears. “If I start thinking of it now, I won’t be able to stand up without telling the whole library what I’ve been thinking of.” Which was, in fact, a legitimate concern of his. He didn’t particularly want to be stuck in the library, sitting in the same precise spot, due to an erection hidden under the table. It just wasn’t the way he wished to spend his day. Gwen laughed quietly under her breath and turned to look at him. Anyone watching them just then might have noticed she looked somewhat softer and happier than she did with most other people. "Point taken," she whispered back. She kissed him lightly on the cheek, then went back to her essay, which was almost nearly done. As she reached the final inch she looked down at it, then over at him. "So," she said slowly. "Do you want me to finish? We could always call it a draw." “I think,” he said slowly, nodding as he spoke, “that a draw might be the best way to end this. It does seem like it would be one regardless of who won, doesn’t it?” It didn’t hurt that if they called it a draw, both of them would have the pleasure of the other’s bet. For technicalities' sake. “You could always do the final inch another time.” "I suppose I could." Actually, the final inch of that particular essay wasn't ever finished, it lay in the bottom of her bag till she handed it in, and she was marked down a few points for being short. Because, truth be told, she really didn't care about the essay any more. "A draw then." She looked over at him and met his eyes, her knee pressing against his again under the table. After a moment she turned and piled her belongings together carelessly then swept them all into her school bag. Free of a quill now, her hand found his, fingers interlacing, and she stood up, tugging him along. |