✖ ailyn!
✖: A hickey on your neck.
Anthea pouted a little as she flounced into the room, an empty classroom that she and Ailyn often used as a meeting place after Quidditch. This was the room where they celebrated or commiserated after a match, and at this particular time, Ailyn was the one celebrating after Ravenclaw had beaten Slytherin. The bottle was offered as soon as she stepped inside and Anthea took it, more than ready to forget about the game - and the dressing-down the team had received.
She waited a few minutes, letting Ailyn bask in the victory, letting the drink take the sting of disappointment out of her voice, before she finally spoke. “You did fly well tonight, Ailyn. I could hardly keep my eyes off you.” It was true, and Anthea was just grateful that it hadn’t been her distraction that had cost them the game. After another drink, she moved to sit on Ailyn’s lap, studying the other girl for a minute before she leaned in to brush her lips against the girl’s neck gently. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about doing this,” she added, the words just a whisper against the soft skin as she finally did what she’d been thinking about since the game, and marked that enticing neck.
