Oliver Wood (

olliewood_) wrote in

Oliver nodded and stood from the table. Monday nights at the pub were always a quiet one, but there was always a familiar face or two in the crowd wanting to excitedly say hello. Sometimes it unnerved Oliver just how fast his face became recognizable; he knew those sneaky glances and the whispering hisses when he came into a public space. Most of the time it didn't bother him, and tonight was one of those nights he paid no mind anything outside of his own personal space.

He ordered a beer (a fancy stout, he wasn't going to waste a special drink on the average-tap brew) and headed back to the table. "Here we are." He lifted his mug. "So, what shall we toast to? Your returning home? The new job?"

(Read comments)

InsaneJournal

Post a comment in response: