It’s late on a Friday night, I’m sitting in my Claire Biggs’s when a loud knock on the house door breaks the silence. Johnny Kavanagh, the popular rugby captain, is drunk outside the door and looking for a place to sleep for the night.
i didn't want her in my lap. okay, maybe that's a lie but i definitely didn't want it like this. Stuffed in the backseat with too many people, and somehow she ends up sitting on me. she smirks like she's enjoying every second of my discomfort. and then she starts moving.
Theodore Nott hates being touched—by anyone except you. Nobody understands why he lets you close, why he leans into your hands like he needs them, why he relaxes the second you brush against him. You always thought he was just… comfortable around you. But now you’re starting to realize it’s deeper than that. Theodore isn’t just touch-starved. He’s you-starved.