Even sober Oliver would have found the joke funny, and he chuckled appreciatively.
"Don't worry, I'll make sure you're well satisfied." Fucking Merlin's ghostly bollocks did he need this. Just needed to feel desirable, like something was in his control that would absolutely go right. And tonight would absolutely go right. His fingers weaved through Marie's beautiful blonde hair, admiring the way it seemed to shine in the dim lighting.
They made their way out to Muggle London and through the crowded streets. Now and then Oliver would let his hand graze against the curve of Marie's breast, or play with the zipper on the front of her dress. Fuck he wanted her so badly.