ᴜɴᴅᴏɴᴇ | ᴅ.ᴍ

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄

IT'S New Year's Eve.

The common room is roaring with people screaming along with the song playing, as they are dancing against each other. Alcohol in the air as in each and every corner of the room something new is happening and considering it's the Slytherins, it never came as a surprise.

Amelia and Bonnie decided that we would agree on letting ourselves loose tonight and just enjoy it because we deserved it. Bonnie also decided to place the trophy from the competition in the Slytherin common room because it was something we all deserved to look at and call our own.

I struggled as I tried to tie up the strands of my dress in the back as my hands struggled to tie a knot properly, I hated corseted dresses because it would be a whole puzzle to solve before you could bind it properly, and I couldn't find anyone to help me out as I walked through the common room, bumping into people—trying to find Blaise since his mom owns a corset shop in Brazil.

I walked through the crowds, staying away from any type of alcohol, my eyes trying to search the group of people as the lights kept flickering everywhere—a surreal night as we're all just enjoying it like there's no tomorrow.

"Watch it," I said rudely, already annoyed at my dress as I looked up, pieces of my hair falling on my face as a hand stayed behind my back, holding up the two strands of the strings. "Little witch."

"I'd prefer if you didn't call me that," I rolled my eyes, turning around as he pulled me back with the two strands of my dress strings, almost making me gasp because of the sudden tightening around my waist. "Have I ever told you how much I hate you?"

"So I've heard," he sneered, wrapping the strings around his fingers, pulling me slowly back. "I could help you with that, you know," he offered.

"And why would you do that?"

"Can't accept anything without asking questions, can you?" He was wearing a black button-up shirt, the first two unbuttoned, revealing his chest, the curves of his muscles—the rings on his hand as my eyes tried to get a clear image of everything.

He was the same way, his eyes always looking at any chance they got—traveling down to my thighs as they went up to the silk dress around my body, up to my waist, as they slowly peered up to the way the dress was like thin skin on me, pressed against my body. The curls of my hair fell onto my shoulders, a few strands shaping my face as it was nighttime, but I could feel his glare.

"Fine, go ahead." I turned around — as my hands pressed onto the couch, he picked up the two strands, pulling on one of them as my body jerked up, as he pulled the other. His head was next to mine. I could feel how close he was behind me, the ghost of his face lingering around my neck.

His hands knotted up the strings as I could feel the dress sticking against my body more and more. He slipped his hands onto my waist purposely as I didn't speak a word against it, yet.