Jaysus, Mary, and Merlin, she was going to ruin his dessert.
Iwan had managed to count six Nimbuses, four Shooting Stars, and a couple of Bluebells before Marissa had snapped his attention from the decorations. He felt the usual nervousness that overwhelmed him when it came to speaking to females, and he did his best to remember the advice West had given him over the course of this past season. Rule one was to ignore everything that Martin Boot said, and rule number two was to focus on the task at hand.
Squinting a bit in thought, he looked her over. She had the frame of a seeker, long and limber much like himself, but with her attitude and gumption, he couldn't imagine she'd have the attention span to circle the pitch for what could be hours at a time.
"Lassie," he said, having noticed her distinct northern accent. His Irish brogue worked strangely along with her tone. Iwan felt just enough confidence with his decision and moved to lean forward on the table. "You're most definitely a chaser."
On the pitch and off, it seemed.
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