ferit
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Summary
James turns to face Sirius, who’s lazily sprawled with his legs spread, eyes firmly on the departing back of Snape. He looks lazily predatory, not unlike Padfoot back home who likes to lay in the yard, still as a statue and tracking a curious squirrel who’s unaware that this particular statue bites.
James snorts. “You too, huh?”
Bookmarked by ferit
28 Aug 2024
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Summary
He does the best he can at the moment; he pretends.
Spreads his hands at the referee and pretends that it was an accident.
Blanks his face (because he can't steel his pounding heart) and pretends that doesn't want to punch the snarling Alves in front of him.
Pretends that he is endlessly frustrated by the loss, not the overwhelming urge to push Leo back on the ground.
Pretends that he doesn't want to hear Leo to gasp like that again.
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Every day it drew closer.
Arthur was twenty. Twenty. The big 2-0. It was when your age stopped beginning with a one and started beginning with a two. It meant your life, should you live it out in full, was a quarter over.
But, for Arthur, it meant his life already was over.
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Standing over by the bathroom doors was a small man, clad in baggy shorts and a loose white tee that hung on his frame. It was the little details that made Cris keep looking. It was practiced slouch of his obviously fit body, the sleeve tattoo that looked almost wrong on his pale skin and the tousled brown hair that begged for Cris to run his hands through.
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In which Cristiano finds Leo drunk on the roadside and has to deal.