ᴅᴀᴛᴇ ғᴏʀ ғᴀᴋᴇ → ᴊᴀᴍᴇs ᴘᴏᴛᴛᴇʀ

↳ 19: FANTASIZE

THE AWKWARD ENCOUNTER THAT OCCURRED between James and Freya was easily forgotten as the day progressed. After lunch, Euphemia had said she had to go out for food shopping since stores would be close for the holidays starting at December 23rd — which was the following day. Fleamont was trying to manually fix the heater and Sirius, surprisingly, was good with tinkering and was helping him with it — and also because he just didn't want to be a third wheel with James and Freya. And the said pair were lounging in the reading room. Both were lying on the carpeted floors and were staring at the high ceiling.

         "Let's play twenty questions." Freya said suddenly.

         James rolled his eyes. "What are you, five?"

         "It's boring, hun."

         "Yeah, no shit." James muttered. "And stop calling me that, no one is even around."

          Freya rolled her eyes. "Fine, snappy pants."

          There was a short pause before James spoke. "No why's and no demanding of explanations of our answers, alright?"

          Freya smirked, knowing James was in the game. She hummed and said, "Alright. Go first."

          James thought for a moment before asking, "What's your favourite color?"

          Freya grinned. "Gold." James nodded and Freya asked, "What's the color of your toothbrush?"

          James chuckled at the question but answered nonetheless. "Blue. I know, platonic." Freya giggled. "What's your pet peeve?"

          "People touching their bellybuttons, like, just, no." Freya shivered and James couldn't help but laugh. He wanted to ask why but remembered he made the rule of no asking second questions. So, he listened as Freya asked her question, "Why do you hate when people call you by your second name, Fleamont? I mean, it is your fathers name."

          James rolled his eyes. "It's delirious! Sounds like a name of a warlock or something. Plus, it isn't something pleasuring to scream during an orgasm."

          Freya couldn't even hold her laughter on James' answer and James chuckled along with her. "Alright, my turn. What's your secret sexual fetish?"

          Freya gasped and looked bewilderedly at a very amused James, "That's inappropriate!"

          "Hey, you proposed the game."

          "Why would you even ask that?"

          "Whoops, no asking why's, Frey." James said, looking at her and grinning.

           Freya rolled her eyes but answered anyways. "When a person touches my thighs or my bum."

          James smirked. "Interesting."

         "Well, my turn, then. What's your sexual fetish?"

         James scoffed and answered, "If you think it'll make me uncomfortable the way it did with you, then you're mistaken."

         "Just answer it." Freya protested childishly.

         James rolled his eyes. "When someone runs their hands through my hair."

         "No way! Someone has actually touched your hair before?" asked Freya incredulously.

         "Well, yeah, I'm not Sirius." James said, matter of fact, and chuckled at how Freya found his answer unbelievable.

          "Who was it?" Freya asked.

          James smirked. "It's my turn to ask, Frey."

          Freya huffed and rolled her eyes. James turned to her and saw the frown on her face and he found it amusing. Hr chuckled and — completely catching Freya off guard — he grasped her hand, intertwining their hands, and then pulling her close to him.

          Freya looked bewilderedly at him. Yet, before she could ask his motifs, he spoke, "It was Dorcas Meadows of Ravenclaw. And no, you can not tell Remus."

          Freya grinned, feeling triumph that James gave in and answered her question. And the answer to it amused her very much as well. "Wasn't gonna."

          And so they laid there, eyes to the ceiling, and conversing about nothing and everything the entire afternoon.