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Seamus Finnigan (openbottle) wrote in finnigans_rpg,

'Don't look back,' Graeme's voice chanted in Seamus's head as his momentary pause revealed Dean gaining on him fast. He did his best to flatten himself to his broom, but Dean was close enough that Seamus could hear him muttering. "Like hell you will," he called back, stretching his arms out until his hands were clasped so close to the edge of his broom that he actually felt unbalanced by it. He held his muscles tight as they both flew hard, neither able to pull away nor willing to lose ground. Seamus could see the field, his way to the finishing point clear, and for an instant he was ahead once more!

Then Dean dove, flashing past Seamus like polished lightning. Seamus felt his stomach do a somersault as he pushed his own broom downwards in hot pursuit. He wasn't ready. His position made him top-heavy and his broom wobbled. Cursing, he pulled his hands back without loosening his grip, earning him a splinter in the meat of his palm.

His knuckles were white as he tried to pull up and he threw his weight back as the tip of his broom just skimmed the grass before he landed with a painful thump and rolled to one side. Adrenaline coursed through him and he was up again like a spring, holding one hand up in triumph while he sucked hard on the other, trying to pull the splinter out with teeth and suction. Dean had won - he was already on the ground, and Seamus's leaf was shredded against his broom. He had lost - but he hadn't broken anything and that was reason enough for celebration.