WHO: Ian Bell & Liz Fortescue
WHAT: Liz RUINS THE MOOD.
WHERE: Ian's house!
WHEN: His WE WON OMG! Party
NOTE: Liz → Sean

Liz liked parties. She was a real sucker for them actually. She had, however, never spent so much time getting ready for one as she had today. A large pile of clothes were on the floor of her room at her father's flat, as she had thrown on and thrown off outfit after outfit, yelling in frustration about how all her clothes sucked and made her look fat. Her dad had tried to pick out one for her, of course, but the button up shirt and long, woolen skirt had been a little too conservative. Scratch that; way too conservative. She'd quickly removed it, muttering a sarcastic thank you to Florean, and began her tradition of tossing clothes once more.

Eventually, she found a nice dress - a white, 50s style one with a bright floral print - that just happened to show off her curves just the way she liked them to. She grinned softly t her reflection, tilting her head and turning from side to side to observe herself at all angles. Satisfied, she finally decided to have a go at her hair. She tried leaving it down, putting it up, curling, curling it and putting it up, but she just couldn't get it to lay right. Pausing, she finally dug through her drawer, straightened her hair, and tied a ribbon in it like a headband. Perfect. Smiling, she did her make-up quickly, before running down the stairs and smiling at her dad. When he'd complimented her greatly, she grinned, giving him a kiss on the cheek goodbye before apparating to the address that Ian had given her.

His house, apparently.

Which was bloody huge.

She stared at it in awe for a very long moment, afraid to even step in, and swallowing roughly at the thought. Bugger. She shouldn't have agreed to this. Biting roughly at her lip, she walked up to the door, looking around for how she was supposed to announce her presence. Finding a doorbell, she rang it quickly, and then stood still, rocking back and forth on her heals and fiddling with her hands. She had never felt so nervous. She didn't even know why she was now.

If anyone in the world had actually expected for the week after the British Quidditch Cup's final match to be quiet, they were bloody insane. The whole of Puddlemere United, all their friends and family, and all its fans would be partying for at least that long--which was exactly what they were doing tonight. There had, of course, been a great drunken celebration in the tent after the game, but now was the official celebration, with lots more booze, lots more people, lots more time and... well, just lots of everything. Except captains.

No one knew what was going on, but it seemed after the night of the match, Finn had completely disappeared. He was supposed to be holding this party himself, but--well, no one could get a hold of the damn bastard. While that was worrisome, the party did have to go on, obviously (and the man had his weird moods, so it wasn't like they were too worried).

So Ian, being the good teammate he was (and party whore, oh Merlin, was he), volunteered to take over MIA McLaggen's place and use his house for the celebrations. And not only did that mean that he could do whatever he wanted, but he could invite whoever he wanted. And Ian wanted to invite Liz Fortescue. So he did.

And she actually showed up. A house elf scurried to the door and opened it for the girl, his eyes widening immediately--Ian had given all his elves a picture beforehand, because he was not about to have her wandering around the party all night, talking to other hot Quidditch players. "Miss Liz, Miss Liz, we is so happy that you are being here!" it exclaimed at once, quickly ushering her in. "Mister Ian was waiting, he was, he says to take you to him right aways! Follow me, Miss Liz, right aways!"

"Right away, eh?" She couldn't help but smirk. Liz had always thought that house elves were extremely adorable, and the fact that they all seemed to know who she was made her giggles very hard to keep inside. She did, however, follow the little thing through the party, squeezing past people and trying to figure out just why Ian had demanded that she be brought to him the moment she showed up. She had figured she was supposed to mingle and just hoped her graced her with his presence. Pushing the thought from her mind, however, she walked through the halls, and eventually stopped just behind the elf when she spotted Ian.

"Er, thanks," she said to the house elf, giving him a smile, and then pushing forward until she was standing behind the extremely hot Quidditch player. Clearing her throat, she decided she may as well open with one of her ever so famous witty remarks.

"Mister Ian was waiting, was he? I admit that being around me can be quite exciting, but I didn't think you'd be that anxious to get me in your sight. Afraid I'll find some other flirtatious, handsome Quidditch man to flirt with while I'm here, Sugar Bear?"
"So the Chasers were all coming towards me and these moves--I'd never even seen them, I think they were coming up with all kinds of new strategies to try and surprise us--but they were coming towards me and the one on the left--"

Ian's narrative was halted immediately as he heard a very familiar and very snarky voice from behind him. He turned away from the group of friends he was talking to, unable to help the wide grin that appeared on his face at the sight of Liz. It was probably the alcohol (or maybe just the extreme excitement of WINNING THE BRITISH CUP OH MY GOD that had't worn down at all yet) making him a little less than judgment-wise, but he swooped down immediately and gave her a kiss on the cheek before gathering her into a hug.

"Of course not, like you'd flirt with anyone else, Bunnybear!" he exclaimed jovially, letting her go but keeping his hands on her shoulders. Ian sent her a wry smile. "I'm glad you could make it."

Liz had been surprised by the kiss, her cheeks blushing heavily as she returned the hug, probably a bit tighter then she would have given to just about anyone else. For hating contact so much, she sure had a hard time of letting go of Ian. Smirking, she shrugged, and gave him an equally wide grin. "Like I'd miss the opportunity to be groped by hundreds of drunk athletes!" She cleared her throat, before motioning to his friends.

"Sorry if I interrupted. I lack the ability to kindly not barge into conversations." She'd heard a piece of the story being told, of course, but it didn't stop her from interrupting him any. Biting her tongue, she clasped her hands behind her a bit awkwardly. "I can just go... find something to drink while you finish up... Or something?"

Ian shook his head. "Naah, they were all there anyway, they know how it happened," he said, throwing a smirk over his shoulder to the group he'd been talking to, who happened to be two of the Puddlemere Chasers and a Beater. One of the Chasers nudged the other and snorted, who whispered something to the Beater.

"We can see when we're in the way. Have fun with your girl and we'll catch ya later, Bell," one said, looking absolutely mischievous as they all walked off. Ian blushed a little, but before he could open his mouth to protest that Liz was not his girl, they were preoccupying themselves with the bar.

"Heh, sorry about them. Said drunken athletes, you see, can be rather obnoxious at times. But uh--do you want something to drink? If you don't want alcohol, there's plenty of other stuff.. Or we could sit down, if you want."

Liz winced at the phrase chosen for her, more because of the fact that she hadn't felt guilty for hearing it and - secretly - wanting to smile because of it. Being Ian's girl wouldn't be so bad, would it? I mean, he was smart, and funny, and rich, that was always a plus, and there was more to him than really met the eye, and he was handsome and-- FLETCH. Liz Fortescue, remember your boyfriend!

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself. "Sitting would be great. I'm not very thirsty though." She'd had two or three butterbeers with her dad already, and any more drinks in her system and she knew she'd be getting up to pee every five seconds. That would be a bit irritating.

"Alright," Ian said agreeably, moving to put his arm around her shoulders and steering her over to a small sofa in the next room. There weren't more than a few people in there, with the party being mainly out in the other room and around the pool outside, that was to be expected. It was quite quiet, too, with the blaring music muffled and less people hollering and laughing and drinking.

He allowed her to sit down before taking a seat beside her, setting his glass of firewhiskey on the end table. "I'm really glad you came," Ian admitted, softly and much more seriously than he had in the other room. "Really. It wouldn't have been as much fun without you."

Liz felt a wave of relief when the noise was slowly tuned out, sitting quickly on the couch and flattening out her skirt. She crossed her ankles - something her mother had drilled in for her to do whenever she wore a dress or a skirt. Sitting like a lady had always been of up most importance for some strange reason. She assumed later it had been to take her mind off of the failing marriage. Pity, really. Clearing her throat, she smiled softly, giving a light shrug as a response.

"Most things aren't," she said arrogantly, teasingly, even. Her eyes looked to the ground, however, as she became slightly more serious. "I honestly was surprised by the invite. Delighted, of course, but I wasn't expecting it."

Ian cocked his head to the side, raising an eyebrow at Liz. "Why were you surprised?" he asked curiously.

Okay, so despite the fact that he knew that he wasn't supposed to be doing this, and it was wrong on so many levels because she was young and she had a boyfriend and a million other reasons, he thought he had done a decent job lately of hinting to her that he fancied her. He'd spent time with her, he'd let her see his other side, he'd bought her stuff, he'd kissed her even and--well, as far as he was concerned, he was being pretty obvious about it all. And she still thought he wouldn't invite her to his party?

"I wanted to share tonight with my favorite people. You're one of my favorite people."

Liz blushed for perhaps the millionth time. "I... I dunno. I didn't know I was one of your favorite - I just - I mean, I - Oy, um..." She was stuttering and looking at the floor and trying to get her cheeks to just stop being so red. She'd known he appreciated her company, of course, but she didn't know he actually found her to be so important. She'd never been very good at picking up when people cared for her and this was just... Well, she felt very slow when it was pointed out to her.

"I ... Well... Thank you," she blurted out finally, looking back to him, her face still quite pink, and smiling. "You're one of my favorite people too, so I guess it all sort of evens out." She paused, before clearing her throat and biting her lip.

"On second though, you know, I think I could use something to drink. Anything, really. Please?"

From his smile, it was obvious that Ian was genuinely happy to hear that from her, so much so that he didn't even really mind that he was going to get up and leave her because--oh geez, he was so not used to this fancying girls thing. It'd been way too long since he'd wanted, even thought about a girlfriend, that he had almost forgotten the weird butterfly feelings that came along with actually liking someone.
"Right. I'll be right back," Ian excused himself, going back over to the bar. He didn't want to get her alcohol because... well, she might get the wrong idea, and besides that, he really didn't want her drunk in the middle of all these guys. So he settled for one of those fizzy Muggle drinks--soda, or pop, or whatever it was--returned with it in hand a moment later.

"I hope this is alright, you said anything."

Liz nodded, smiling appreciatively and taking the soda. "S'perfect." She didn't need anything that would get her drunk, she just needed something to actually occupy herself with. Taking a very long sip, she let out a sigh, and fiddling lightly with the container. She didn't know why she felt so bloody nervous. It was unsettling with her - especially given the last time she could remember acting like this was around James just before they started dating.
Bad road, Liz. Bad road.
"So congratulations, by the way," she said quickly to break the silence. Being awkward with a friend was never fun and she tried her best to be as casual as she could be. "I get excited winning the House Cup, I can't imagine what winning like this must feel like."

Ian laughed in a reminiscent sort of tone, leaning back into the couch. "Yeah, it's pretty much the most amazing thing I've ever experienced," he said. "The high hasn't even begun to wear off, I mean--yeah..." Despite the fact that she played Quidditch, Ian felt like that if he started to go off on how great it was, she was going to get bored. Maybe it was just because he'd spent so much time in the past couple days talking about it, that it felt like it was all old news to everyone.
"I could almost die a happy man now."

Liz grinned at his description, adoring the fact that he loved something like Quidditch that much. She had never seen someone who was so honest about being in love with the sport - he seemed to even beat James in that category. "Sounds amazing," she said finally, meaning it more sincerely then she did most of the time. "Though, I'd like it if you didn't die, happy or no. It'd put a damper on my good time."

"Aww, I'm touched," Ian said jokingly, however it was obvious that he really was. "Booberry, you care. You really care!" He seemed to think for a minute, then held up a finger. "Or maybe you just care about the party, I mean... I guess it would kind of ruin things if I just decided to drop dead."
He bit his lip to stop from smirking, before shaking his head in mock-disappointment. "I knew it--you girls, all the same."

"Oh, snookums, don't say such things!" She said with a faux-insulted voice, placing her hand 'sympathetically' on his. "You know that I'm in for the money not the parties." She tsked lightly, shaking her head. "And I thought you knew me!"

"Then how much money would I have to put out on the table to get you to kiss me right now?"
He said it before he realized it, and then immediately gave himself a mental smack for it. Why in the world he didn't--fucking--why he didn't just think before he said things, he--oh, he was so stupid, what the hell--But he wasn't about to take it back. No, he had meant it.

Liz nearly dropped her soda and was quite sure she had in fact stopped breathing. Did he just -- and was that -- oh my. Swallowing roughly, she tried to push out the answer that she knew she should say, but for some reason, she couldn't. No kissing wasn't really on the top of her list, it seemed.
"I... Uh... I mean..." Shit, she must've sounded like a total dolt. She felt her cheeks burn (yet again - he really was good at embarrassing her) and she tried taking another sip of soda just to do something, but she lowered the bottle quickly as she knew there was no way in hell she could swallow right now. Bugger. Don't go with your instincts. Instincts are bad.

"None."

"Good."

Ian only had to think about things for a half second before he threw caution to the wind, leaning in quickly to capture her lips in a kiss. It was as if he was afraid that she could change her mind if he didn't catch her fast--or maybe he was just afraid he'd actually get a conscience about her having a boyfriend and stop himself. But he didn't, he was kissing her and it was--oh, it was so different than the time in Hogsmeade, he meant this one, and it was obvious.

Not wanting to freak her out, he only dared to let his lips linger on hers for about ten seconds before pulling reluctantly back, resting his forehead against hers. He opened his eyes a few moments later, and a smile drew itself across his lips.

If Liz had been thinking about Fletch after she had spoken, all of it went straight from her head as soon as he started to kiss her. It wasn't an unwanted surprise like it had been before - it was nice. Really nice. She couldn't help but note how wonderful he smelled, and tasted, and felt, and God was kissing supposed to make you feel tingly all over? It was almost like a cheesy romance novel and she felt ridiculous for even thinking it.

When he pulled back, she let out a little gasp of reluctance, her eyes fluttering open when she flet his forehead resting on her own. She let herself smile for a moment, her mind a sort of blur, before she moved her head enough to kiss him again, her hand finding it's way behind his neck to hold him there this time.

Ian was so insanely pleased with himself (and with her, oh geez, he knew there was some reason he was so mad for her) when she kissed back, and his smile against her lips portrayed that to its full extent. Gently, he took hold of her shoulders and leaned forward a little to deepen the kiss, forgetting anyone else that was in the room.

One hand let go of her as the other simultaneously slipped around her shoulders, supporting her with a strong arm. His other was now free to rest on her waist gently, just below her ribcage.

Liz returned the kiss with more emotion than she'd even known she mustered for Ian. She hadn't kissed anyone like this in years - if she ever had in the first place. She couldn't think very well about anything but how crazily good he was at this and how she must have seemed so ridiculous, but he didn't care if she did - or, well, she did, but she wasn't about to stop kissing him just because she was worried about how bad she was at it.

A soft moan escaped from the back of her throat, and she had put her other hand on his chest. She felt her heart pounding, her breath quick and then --

And then she remembered she had a boyfriend. A boyfriend who cared about her, even if she didn't have the same strong feelings. A boyfriend who would be devastated if he knew what she was doing. She kissed for a second longer, before pulling away from it, shaking her head and letting out a little whimper. "I... God... Ian... Fletch..." She muttered, not able to string together any words. She had never felt so good and so guilty all at once before.

Ian pulled away, but this time he was not satisfied. It wasn't that she was a bad kisser, oh no--no, no, she had been an excellent kisser, Merlin... but because she was pulling away and there was his name again, fuck that--fucking prat that had to be dating her.

He was a man who had lived his life being able to get whatever girl he wanted, and it was extremely difficult to take the reality that she had a boyfriend and--and even if she'd forgotten momentarily, she still had one and she had stopped kissing him for one and FUCK THIS WAS SO DUMB. The first girl he actually wanted for something other than their body and she was taken and taken as in she wasn't just going to throw off her boyfriend for him, taken as in she was devoted enough to tell him to stop for him and--

Ian groaned, pulling away from Liz before he did anything else, and put his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hands. He needed to--"Sorry, I didn't mean to--look, I need to go. There's--I have to go" Standing up quickly, he grabbed his firewhiskey and downed it all in one gulp as he hastily left the room.

Liz had gone to place her hand on his back in a comforting motion, to try and explain that things with her and Fletch were at such a rocky point, and that he didn't have to be sorry, but he just... He left. "Ian! Ian wait!" She got up in an attempt to go after him, but he had quickly been lost from her sight in the crowd. She pushed through people, trying to find him, trying to just get to talk to him, but, alas, the search could've lasted hours and she was sure it wouldn't end well even if she did find him.

Letting out a long sigh, she pushed her way to the door, getting outside and taking a very long, deep fresh breath of air. It was shaky. She was shaky. She paused, kicking the door roughly and hearing her heal snap from the pressure. "Oh, just GREAT!" She groaned, running a hand through her hair and pulling out the ribbon. Taking off her shoes, she apparated home, and flopped onto her bed. There was a very long pause before she flopped, burying her head into her pillows and pretty much decided to cry herself to sleep.