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Post by britkneeboo on Jan 3, 2008 21:11:18 GMT -5
Colors invading sight.
I think I've found my new addiction tonight.
Edward was really doing his best to make this as difficult as possible. Leave it up to them to not be able to spend thirty minutes at the school dance without a fight like this happening. The more she talked, the harder it became to think of things to say to him. Sure, he was annoying, selfish, and rude, but she could only carry that on so far before she ran out of ways to word it. She wished that she could find something to say that would trigger a reaction in him. Anything from him right at that moment would have been good. At least it would give her a break - her voice was starting to crack.
She watched as Edwards face alone seemed to react to her words. He looked less than happy with her at the moment, and she thought it was only a matter of time before things became full-blown. He really shouldn't let it build up like that. ...or maybe she shouldn't let it all out at once. Finally, right when she thought he was going to say something, he did something instead. Mafalda stopped mid-sentence when he pulled her angrily into a classroom. Just as quickly as she had exploded, she had become speechless. In all the arguments they had, he had never proceeded to touch her like he was now. He hadn't ever handled her in such a violent way, yet she wasn't really scared so much as...curious. What's he doing? she thought, wanting to resist. She wanted to pull her arm away. She wanted to kick and scream. She wanted to demand he let her go and stop following her. The problem was, no matter how hard she tried to muster up those feelings, she couldn't. She wanted to know what fate awaited her inside the dark classroom.
What really came unexpectedly was when he pushed her up against a desk. It wasn't the most comfortable feeling in the world, but it wasn't the worst feeling either. She glared at him, almost daring him to do something or say something. She was ready to know where this was going. She was excited at where this was going. She was angry at the same time. She once again found herself wondering what gave people the right to treat other people how they wanted. He seemed to talk a lot about it for not ever actually taking his own advice.
He paused. She stared.
His face become soft. Her face become uncertain.
She felt the blood rushing through her arm where he had released his tight grip on it. She also felt blood rushing to her face as he leaned closer to her. As his hand moved to the back of her neck she felt her eyes automatically close. Her body knew what was coming, but her brain still wasn't processing it.
He was gentle. She was shocked.
She was so shocked that she couldn't even respond. She didn't know how to respond. She didn't know how he would want her to respond. She didn't know how she would normally respond. She had never been caught in a position like the one she was in now. A million thoughts swam through her head, mixing with the dull sound of music that was sneaking its way from the Great Hall, down the corridors, and through the walls. She must have been so focused on what was happening around them that she didn't even give any thought to what he was doing when his lips met hers, because just as quickly as it had happened she felt cold air hit her lips - he was pulling away. Just as quickly as he was pulling away, she was pulling him back. The warmth spread over her body again as their lips locked for a second time, only this time it was much more. She was making it very obvious that she agreed with him, probably for the first time since they met.
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Post by edwardjameson on Jan 3, 2008 21:50:29 GMT -5
 Please don't say we'll never find a way,
And tell me all my love's in vain.
Almost as quickly as it all started, Edward began to draw his head back. His mind was working over time to think of something he could say to get himself out of this situation with death or expulsion. He barely had the opportunity to draw in breath before he felt her arms on him. Say what...?
Their lips met once more. This time they agreed on kissing, and his hand gently pushed her mouth into him harder. It felt good to have a mutual feeling between them, and the fact that it was that they wanted to kiss shamelessly in a dark classroom only made it better. Good lord, why didn't they try this earlier? After years of fighting, had this been what both of them really wanted all along? His second hand snaked up her arm and gently caressed her shoulder. He was feeling bolder, not afraid of the consequences anymore. There were no consequences. There was him, and there was Mafalda. There was the heat from them, guarding them from the cold that slid into the castle's windows. There was the feeling of her hair against his face, soft locks of gold that caressed him and made him feel like he was doing the right thing. But something was missing; he could feel its absence hanging over them.
Slowly, gently, Edward slipped one hand down to Mafalda's side, then inched it down her leg. His other hand followed suit, letting go of her neck and moving it southways. Taking a grip on her legs, he lifted her feet from the ground and put her back down on the desk, allowing himself to slide between them. Her skirt remained a hinderance, but Edward knew better than to do anything too stupid. He didn't want to be too forward, he wanted her to let him know that he wasn't going too far. Hands now free, one slid up her side to rest next to her breast, while the other moved to her knee. It was all up to her now.
God help the poor boy. |
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Post by britkneeboo on Jan 4, 2008 7:36:21 GMT -5
I thought it made more sense if I could only keep you guessing.
I was a fool to think that I should stop you from undressing.
At first, Mafalda was worried that her actions might have been too forward themselves. She hadn't even thought that he pulled away because he didn't really want to kiss her, but now that was seeming like a possibility. Her doubts were pushed aside though, when he pulled her mouth against his own, forcing the kiss. It was rough and cruel. In a way she felt like they were letting their anger out by kissing. They could both be just as harsh this way, maybe even more so, without using words. The consequences would definitely be greater afterward. Their feelings would make a better impact on the other person.
For as inexperienced as Mafalda always assumed Edward was, not that she thought about it or anything, he was doing rather well at what he was doing. It was probably the fact that she wasn't thinking straight, was thinking too much, and that the kissing they were doing wasn't your typical sweet little kiss. It was more of an 'I want you, I hate you' kiss. Right at that very moment Mafalda thought it might be the best kind.
As Edward moved his hands down her body Mafalda felt the urge to do more than kiss. She had got caught up in that urge twice before though, and wasn't as willing to make the same mistake three times. Instead, she fought it and decided to just see what he was up to. Maybe he wasn't even thinking the same things she was - Edward was far too innocent for that.
Up on the desk she went.
Or, maybe he was thinking the exact same thing that she was, and in that case he wasn't nearly as innocent as she thought. Her long dress appeared to block Edward from getting as close to her as he wanted to, and immediately she thought of her mother. It was pretty obvious that she might want to make her daughter a dress that would drive any boy wild, but not allow them to act on what they were thinking. It was actually really clever, but at the present time Mafalda was cursing her mothers protection. Still, Edward managed to do fine enough without full access to her, considering she was now getting goosebumps all over her body.
Goosebumps. Like the goosebumps Ludo had given her in the corridor one night not very long before this one. It had been a feeling she didn't recognize. She had been ashamed and even a little turned off by it, but now she found herself wishing Ludovic was the one giving her the goosebumps she was currently getting, even if Edward was doing such a good job of it. Mafalda pulled away. "I can't," she whispered, leaning in and kissing him again, wanting so badly to continue, but knowing it was for the wrong reasons. She had to fight to make herself pull back for a second time, closing her eyes to avoid looking at him. After only a second of silence she opened her eyes to see Edward looking at her, both of their bodies still so close. He seemed to be thinking something of his own, and hadn't started yelling at her right away like she had expected. Mafalda reached up and moved some stray bangs out of Edwards face. She loved when his hair was messy, and she had only just realized it earlier that night. What is so captivating about this boy? she thought, smiling. It probably wasn't the most appropriate time, but she couldn't help it. "I want to, I just can't," she said. "I mean I'd practically be taking advantage of you." Mafalda was now turning it into a joke, trying to cover up the real reason. He didn't have to know. "I'm a seductress, remember? I only want guys for one thing. I'd hate to corrupt you so soon," she said, the smile still on her face.
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Post by edwardjameson on Jan 4, 2008 23:46:34 GMT -5
 Let's make the best of the situation,
Before I finally go insane.
Then she pulled away.
"I can't." Son of a b-
Her lips were suddenly on his again. Thank Go-
Then she pulled away. Again. Damn...it.
With her eyes closed she looked so pleasant, so thoughtful. He was about to lean in and kiss her again, but her eyes flying open stopped him. Why hadn't he ever seen this before? Her skin was bathed in silver from the moon, her hair shone with a surreal platinum color, even her eyes were more beautiful, their blue-grey color intensified in the light. She was so lovely now...how had he never seen it before? Of course he had always thought she was a pretty girl, but this? In these moments she was perfection, she was venus...aphrodite. Then she smiled, and all the beauties and myths and legends faded to shades of grey with the sight of her in front of him.
"I want to, I just can't."
Wow. Put on a smile, then turn him down? That seemed backwards...and mildly sadistic. But he wasn't angry. The anger was gone. Instead there was sadness, disappointment. Understanding was there, too. He hurt her with what he said about her...and she didn't want to prove him right. Maybe, at least.
"I mean I'd practically be taking advantage of you." Does it count as taking advantage if he wants it too? "I'm a seductress, remember?" Hadn't he started the whole thing? "I'd hate to corrupt you so soon." Wait a sex...sec! How did she know he was a virgin? That seemed awfully presumptuous. Still...he felt a little speechless. It was so out of the blue. His mouth opened to say something, but it snapped shut without a sound. Slowly, carefully, he stepped back, letting her skirt slide back down as his hands left her body. Edward looked confused for a minute, then decided to just go with it. The way he had acted that night...she deserved some decency out of him.
"Yeah, you're right," he said, forcing a chuckle. "There's plenty of time for that, isn't there?" He emulated her smile, one that was a good deal more real than his laugh. She still looked so beautiful. |
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Post by britkneeboo on Jan 7, 2008 2:48:56 GMT -5
I don't know what it's like to take it slow,
And from this feeling I don't think I want to.
That is just perfect. I've done it now, she thought, watching as Edward stepped away from her. The feeling of her dress sliding back down her legs was one of the most disappointing things she had felt the entire night. The dress suddenly became very uncomfortable. She felt like the only way to fix it was to take it off, but apparently that wouldn't happen until she was back in her room. As Edward stared at her, mouth open and face confused, Mafalda didn't know what to do. She hadn't been in many situations like this before. Sure, she had told boys no before, but it was always gladly. She hadn't ever told a boy she liked or cared about no, which was probably part of her problem, but this was turning out to be really difficult.
Yeah, you're right. There's plenty of time for that, isn't there?
He wasn't helping. Playing along was exactly what she was hoping he would do, but now that she actually heard him do it she found it even more difficult to resist him. It was the way he managed to act like he didn't still want her that was making her want him so much more. If Edward ever wanted to make Mafalda fall completely in love with him there were only a few different things he needed to do; yell at her, provoke her, mistreat her, blame her, push her around (preferably up against desks), and (but not limited to) act completely oblivious to her. Currently, he had accomplished the majority of those things. Now, all he had to do was keep it up. It drove her absolutely crazy.
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, hopping off the desk and adjusting the skirt of her dress. Her hair was still a mess, but she didn't feel the need to adjust it any. Mafalda laughed, but it wasn't completely forced. She was enjoying the fact that he hadn't stormed out in anger. "I mean the word 'yet' can be interpreted so many different ways." Mafalda took a step closer to him, wanting to feel his hands on her again, but hoping he didn't actually touch her. "I'd hate to think you planned this. Or, was it something I said?" she said, but still smiling to let her know she wasn't upset with him.
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Post by edwardjameson on Jan 7, 2008 3:31:57 GMT -5
 I know I've been hanging on tight,
So maybe it just might mean I want you.
"What is that supposed to mean?" Wait a tick, what was that supposed to mean? Was he implying that maybe this relationship was going to go further than tonight? Christ, he hadn't even thought about that. Okay, he hadn't really about any of what happened. It just...happened. Maybe that's what made it so good. Everything was so confusing. Could he have a real relationship with her? Even if it were possible, would she want it? What if she had only wanted sex tonight? No, that can't be. She stopped it, remember? Well, maybe she just grew a conscience or something. Bullocks, idiot. She knew as well as Edward that he wanted it just as much as her. Oh, shut up; she's doing something again.
He watched her slide off the desk, finally giving up his last shred of hope that she would change her mind. She was laughing again. It remained beyond Edward what was so funny. "I mean the word 'yet' can be interpreted so many different ways." Ugh, why did she have to play around like this? Some crazy stuff happened, and she stopped it. If she wanted it, at any time, all she had to do was come out with it. Anything was better than this dancing around thing she was doing.
She stepped closer and his hands automatically came out of his pockets. They paused in mid-air, then one went to scratch the back of his head while the other fell to his side. Real smooth. There's no way she didn't notice that slick move. "I'd hate to think you planned this. Or, was it something I said?" Good question. Just as good as the first one. He had an equal amount of knowledge on the answers to both, unfortunately.
"I don't know, Mafalda," he said simply, eyes moving to the windows behind her. Her smile, although he found it impossible to discern its meaning, was a comfort to him. "I just..." For heaven's sake, say something you dolt, it doesn't get any worse than this. "...you look so beautiful tonight."
Alright, that may have actually made it worse. |
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Post by britkneeboo on Jan 7, 2008 4:51:54 GMT -5
It's crazy the things we made in the sky.
We end up regretting the things we don't try.
I don't know, Mafalda.
Mafalda watched him move his hands like he wanted to grab her again, but then he didn't. The way he resisted her was so cute, she found it hard to stop smiling. She watched his eyes as the size of his pupils changed, allowing him to focus on the window in the background instead of on her. It was obvious that she was making him uncomfortable, and she knew it. Some part of her, the part that loved to torment him, was enjoying it. She took another step closer to him, and lifted her hand to run her pointer finger down his chest and over the vest buttons. She did it in the same way that she had done it in the Great Hall, only this time a little more tempting.
I just...
Hmmm? You just what? she thought, following her own finger down over his abdomen as she went.
...you look so beautiful tonight.
...oh. That was it? He just wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked? Well, there was that part of him that confused her. If he wanted her to stop what she was doing, if he wanted to make it easy for her to leave, that was the way to do it. It was so unexciting. It was expected. It wasn't fun at all, and as sweet as it sounded it isn't what she wanted. Couldn't he have just wanted to put her back on that desk? Couldn't he have just wanted to kiss her again? Couldn't he have just said something more passionate? Talk about mixed signals.
Mafalda stepped away from him, realizing that there wasn't a whole lot more for them to discuss. Their night at at the dance was pretty much over, she couldn't go any further with him in the classroom, and the longer she stood there the more she started to realize what they had just done. It was enough to make her panic. She was happy he had just told her she looked beautiful. He had made it easy for her to leave, and she needed to leave. Leaving meant she didn't have to put up with this anymore, and if she avoided him she wouldn't have to put up with the awkwardness the day after. "I should go. I'm getting tired," she lied, deciding she could at least offer him a decent goodbye. Mafalda stepped back up to him, leaning over to give him a quick, polite peck on the cheek. Instead, she found herself opting for a feather light kiss on the lips; so light in fact that it tickled her lips. "Thanks, kid. For my last Yule Ball, you sure made it interesting." Mafalda made her way toward the door, walking slowly. When she reached it she pushed it open, lingering for a moment. "Don't ever beat yourself up too bad over these fights we get into. If it helps any, it sort of turns me on," she said, smirking, and walked out. The door creaked shut behind her.
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Post by edwardjameson on Jan 7, 2008 5:33:35 GMT -5
You're sick of feeling numb,
You're not the only one. It was unusually easy for Edward to ignore her finger on his chest this time. After what he'd just experienced, the sensation felt dulled. Not to mention he felt under so much pressure that his mind didn't seem to think it necessary to register her finger's presence at that time. The step closer was a good deal harder to ignore; it meant that her lips were just that much closer. As predicted, however, his pathetic word choice did indeed make things worse. She backed away, an action that made Edward have to resist not taking a step forward to keep their distance close. Mafalda looked flustered when she spoke. "I should go. I'm getting tired."
You didn't need to be Nostra-fuckin'-damus to see right through that pathetic excuse. Still, he thought getting away from her was the best idea right now. He got the feeling that this wasn't the kind of thing that would leak into tomorrow; it was a here and now, and in all likelihood he wouldn't get another chance like this. Receiving a final kiss, something so unexpected he didn't have time to react, served to perk him up a little. Not very much, but a little. Not the time to be particular about pick-me-ups.
"Thanks, kid. For my last Yule Ball, you sure made it interesting." That stupid word. It should have been outlawed the moment of its conception. Interesting lacked any meaning, it was just an adjective people used when they couldn't think of anything else to say or wanted to make a bad thing seem kind of alright. Edward didn't have a thing to say in reply. He resisted grasping her hand as she walked by. "Don't ever beat yourself up too bad over these fights we get into. If it helps any, it sort of turns me on." Strange thing to say, considering she was usually the one who got hurt faster in their fights. Turned on, though? She could look so...hurt. Like she really cared what Edward thought of her. Now every time he got into a fight with her, his mind would be plagued with questions about whether or not she wanted him or not. He'd luck out tonight, but what if she had resisted? What if she hadn't wanted him to do just what he did? Well, clearly she hadn't really wanted him to, otherwise she wouldn't have stopped the affair.
Alone again, the lone Gryffindor places his hands on the desk in front of him. Still warm, he thought. Biting his lip, he began a slow trudge to the door. Grasping the handle, he paused for just a second. Then, winding back, he punched the stone wall as hard as he could. The quiet noise of snapping bones broke the absolute silence of the classroom. He pulled the door open and headed off to the tower, cradling his hand as he walked. There was plenty of time for the nurse to fix his bones tomorrow. Right now, he needed to get away. |
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