The Tragedy of 1856

Red Dancing Shoes

The feeling of the hot water engulfing him in the wooden tub is relaxing and Harold breathes deep in and out. The steam makes his muscles loosen up and sink into the surface. He decided to take a long, hot bath while the Professor would be sleeping, just to prepare for the next day. Hallewell planned to explore the region, trying to find this castle.

He had been feeling stressed lately. With the hectic search for any evidence of vampirism here, a weird group of residents and a girl that makes his ears burn, it wasn't the most pleasant trip he's had. This place is strange and it did occur to Harry that the reason of this all must be the one he's thinking. The topic that everyone seems to avoid.

YN made it all bearable. If it hadn't been for her — her kindness, her loving attitude, her beaming personality and her cute smile—, he would've been in London by now. Or at least whining the Professor's ear off. So he would consider himself lucky to have her at his side. To have her talk about her day and make it seem like he's just a normal person.

A low sigh tumbles from his mouth into the steamy room and a hand comes up to brush the wet strands of hair out of his face. The water splashes as his palms scratch along his thigh up to his stomach. He stills, pursing his lips and the short swivel of his fingertip around his navel makes him think. Should he? It had been a long time. Time without any longing touches of soft hands. Let it be someone else's or his own, he craves it now.

The last time he felt an earth-shattering orgasm by hands that wasn't his, he was in Italy. Harry still remembers the sound of pleasure that had been stiffled by the large hand of the stable lad as the other one worked Harry's length. They hid away in the last box of the alley. It was exciting.

Harry feels his cock twitch. The door squeaks.

"I apologize!"

"Oh..." Harry's head whips around to the sound of her, palms quickly cupping his growing crotch. YN looks like a caught deer which is kind of ironic. "I uh— Good evening."

She steps in, letting the door fall shut behind her, and walks towards him with the end of the nightgown flowing around her ankles. "Hello Harry." Her voice almost drips with sweetness while a timid smile tugs at her lips and her eyes flicker to the ground for a second in embarrassment.

She watches him with big eyes. "Am I interrupting you?" Her lips part as he scratches his neck and his arm flexes.

"Oh, uhm, I'm not sure. As far as interrupting can go while sitting in a bathtub, I guess." He smirks at her.

Of course. Stupid question.

Harry clears his throat, forehead creasing as he focuses on her face that still looks like she doesn't even know what she's doing here herself. "What do you want anyways?"

Her mouth opens and closes like she's not sure what she wants to say is right or not. "Nothing, really..."

After a few seconds of just watching each other Harry snorts. "Okay then." His arms come up to grip the edge of the wooden tub. "Turn around or not. I'm coming out."

Her mind is reeling, overwhelmed by all the hot feelings rushing back to her that she tried so desperately to keep at bay. She quickly turns around. Eyes staring at the crack in the wall.

YN hears the water splashing as he heaves himself out of the tub. What she'd do right now to see him in all his wet and naked glory.

"Do you want me to..." She drifts off as she turns around again. Her eyes run shamelessly up and down his body that's only covered by his underwear and a see-through shirt. Her limbs tingle. "Do you want me to go?"

Harry finds it cute. He finds it cute how her gaze can't seem to stay on him. He finds it cute how she fiddles with the fabric of her sleep attire, how her toes curl into the ground. And his cock twitches some more. Great, he thinks, he's getting a boner right in front of her.