“Scarlett.”
She wasn’t sure why that seemed to be harder to do than kiss him. Scarlett had maintained a closed-off persona since entering the public world of professional quidditch, though it was something that she’d been forced into developing throughout her years at Hogwarts. With two vicious roommates, her only chance at survival had been to become something of a recluse in her own dormitory and the feeling of keeping to herself, keeping everything to herself, had carried over into the supposed real world. She was surprising herself with each passing second of this interaction as she could not recall the last time she had been spotted anywhere, especially in public, in this sort of embrace. The Tattler liked to assume that the snapshots they got of her and Bagman were post-snog, but that had never been the case.
Scarlett found that she didn’t mind if she was caught in the arms of this handsome man, whose name she still wasn’t aware of. Part of her deemed it quite all right that he remained nameless, that all she wanted to do was to remain staring at his lips, but her common sense was managing to get a word or two. She made no effort to break away from him, still quite entranced and not only with him but with how she was allowing herself to speak and behave so freely. His arms around her made her feel secure in her actions, and it made the already overwhelming urge to keep kissing him unbearable. Scarlett found herself once again closing the space between them, but she hovered momentarily in suspense.
“I’m Scarlett,” she breathed onto his lips, eyes fluttering up to meet his. She wanted him to kiss her again, to initiate it once more. “Who are you?”
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