He was far too embarrassed to answer her right away. Thomas hadn't kissed a girl since the breakup, he hadn't gone on a date, he hadn't been attracted to anyone---not that he was attracted to Billie, well, he supposed she was rather pretty, and she played quidditch so that was always a plus, but he'd never even spoken a full conversation outside of practice with her, and here he was, trying to snog her face off.
Thomas jumped to his feet, stumbling to the side until he hit a wall. Ergh. He couldn't leave like this, he'd have to walk, he'd splinch himself into twenty different pieces. Thomas leaned heavily against the wall, letting himself take a few deep breaths to try and stand right. Maybe---nope, nope, he'd drunken himself into a snogging stupor.
"Damn it all," he muttered, putting his hands over his face. Thomas felt like such an idiot, such an idiot and such a loser, and now he was going to have to sleep on her bloody couch and wake up with the worst headache ever imagined. And then go to practice and hope Odette didn't notice that he was hungover beyond belief,
"It wasn't bad," he moaned through his hands, "I'm just an idiot."
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