Petals & Thorns | Fred Weasley (UNDER REVISION)

SONG OF THE CHAPTER: me, myself & i • g-eazy & bebe rexha

The dungeons were always colder than the rest of the castle despite the fires roaring in the fireplaces. Adalinda's bare legs were prickling with chilliness as they climbed through the door to the common room, her skirt providing little to no insulation for her. Inside, the stone walls were littered with paintings and crests of the noble house of the serpent. The emerald green couches surrounded the fireplace, elegant and inviting as she bargained with her own exhaustion. The silky silver accent pillows reflected the orange of the flames on their surface. Most of the students had already gone to their rooms, rushing to get changed and ready for bed after the feast. Adalinda's run in with the Weasley boy had aided her in missing the rush of the crowd, and although she could still feel all eyes on her, she was grateful for that small fact.

They all parted ways almost instantly when they were inside, tired and ready to go to bed. All of her friends immediately retired to their beds, muttering small goodbyes as they trudged in the direction of the boys dormitories. Left in the dark was Adalinda and Adrian, making her unease return almost immediately. She was able to manage it better with a crowd surrounding her, but being alone with him was not something she was fond of. He ushered her to sit by the fire, taking a seat on the couch and casting a lazy arm around the back of it.

When she took her seat beside him, she let her eyes focus on the flickering flames across the room, trying to distract herself as best she could. When his arm slid forward and curled around her, her stomach twisted with nerves. He leaned closer, his breath warm on her cold skin as he prepared to speak. Her jaw clenched tightly as his lips lingered just over her ear.

"Now that we're alone, what do you want to do?" He asked. Her body went rigid at the sound of his words, knowing exactly what he wanted to do, but certainly not sharing the same thought. He pressed his mouth to the skin of her neck, the action sending a shiver down her spine. This time, the feeling did not pass as quickly as it did so many times before. Unable to withstand it, she pushed him off, giving in to her emotion and not caring about the consequences. "What? Still thinking about the blood-traitor?" His anger was evident, now because of the blunt rejection as well as the incriminating scene in the entrance hall.

"No, Adrian. I'm just tired." She assured him, not wanting him to get the wrong idea and take it further than it needed to go. Her legs were crossed, and her hands were folded atop of them. She kept herself as still as a statue in hopes it would deter him from trying again. This wouldn't have been the first time he tried to force her hand with intimacy she did not want. His angry expression faded slightly, knowing that her statement could very well be truthful considering he was also wiped from the days long list of events.

"Too tired to have any fun?" He questioned, his advance weaker than the last in hopes of a gentle persuasion. His hand snaked back to her thigh, his grip always tighter than it needed to be. She wasn't sure if he felt compelled to remind her of who was in charge, or if he did it subconsciously. It was the same leg he had grabbed just a little too tightly earlier, the tips of his fingers brushing against the same spot that bruises began to form on. She swallowed her words, ignoring the slight ache in the limb as she continued to focus on the fire.

His lips went back to her skin, finding them on her cheek this time. This was more acceptable, she thought. Still, she did not budge and refused to give in to him. His hand moved from her leg to her face, turning it towards him. He kissed her with a forceful manor, the action off-putting and nowhere near enjoyable. She wondered if he erred on the side of gentleness, if she would be more apt to reciprocate. In hopes of getting this over with as quickly as possible, she kissed him back ever so slightly, but barely enough for him to notice. She let her hands dance in the strands of hair at the back of his neck, faking just enough enthusiasm to please him. She swung herself sideways and threw her legs over his, switching positions not because she wanted to keep kissing him, but because it made it a bit more bearable, like it was somewhat close to something normal.