*Other note: There's some symbolism in having her naked (well, down to her underwear). It's a positive one, I assure you, reader.
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“Life is never easy for those who dream.”
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“Life is never easy for those who dream.”
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Sometimes, when no one else is in the dorm room, Henrietta would strip down to her knickers and look at her reflection in the room’s floor-length mirror.
Henri would see a skinny girl (not the young adult she’s suppose to grow up into), with short, messy black hair and almond-shaped brown eyes. The reflection would peruse over a flat chest, narrow waist, and even narrower hips. Hands would skim and trace over her lips, her chin to rub at her neck, her collarbone.
She isn’t pretty or sexy. (She cringes at those words, despite what she’s doing in front of the mirror.) She has neither the body nor the personality for either. In reality, she’s almost boyish-looking, and for some odd reason that would always upset Henri more than it should’ve.
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Henrietta asks Ellie, one day during class, if dreams could have sequels.
Ellie, being the voice of reason, just smiles at Henri and says, “Only if you want them to, love.”
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So that night, she has a different dream.
Henri’s running down the halls in broad daylight, trying to catch up to someone running in front of her.
When she stops to catch her breath, she realizes two things:
1. She’s running around the castle in only her knickers. No bra, just her favorite red knickers with dark blue bows on the sides. (Which makes her wonder what being this undressed could mean.)
2, Although the sun is shining, there is no one else but her in the hallways. No ghosts, no teachers. Only her…and that person
And damn. She lost him (who ever he was).
…Or so Henri thinks, until she feels arms wrap themselves around her body, hands holding her still from behind. To her relief (or her disappointment? All so confusing…), this person is fully clothed, with warm Hogwarts robes cocooning her bare body like a blanket. His hold isn’t possessive, but loose and…was he shaking?
Henri dares to turn around to show him who he caught. (She hopes he isn’t disappointed by what he sees.)
She gasps. It’s—
“Qu—“
He doesn’t give her the chance to answer when he presses his lips against her’s. She’s too shocked to move, but the way he’s kissing her…it's so different from how he kissed her. His kisses were gentle, yet firm. Quinn’s more careful with his hands, but unsure of himself in terms of how he’s kissing her. He switches from pressing closed-mouth kisses along her jaw to just full-out snogging her, as if he doesn't know what would make her satisfied at this point.
He’s as nervous as she is, with his breath hitching at every shudder he draws from Henri. His hands move to stroke at her neck, and she can feel her neck hurt from straining because now she’s kissing him back with all the experience, or lack thereof, she has. It’s sloppy, but neither of them care because they’re 16 and dreams never make sense anyway. She hears one of them moan in the back of their throat, and it makes Henri feel that burning sensation all over her body.
Closer, she had to get closer because it felt like he was melting her through the layers of clothing he had on. Small hands grab his shirt and yank him down to deepen the kiss, even though at this point she doesn’t know what more they could do.
Reciprocating is the right thing to do, apparently, since he returns her kiss with more confidence. Henri can feel Quinn’s hands move down her body (and she presses in closer to him at the warmth because everything else is freezing) to lift her off her feet and press her against the cold walls of the hallway. Leave it to the Ravenclaw to be accommodating. Automatically, Henri wraps her legs around his waist, to secure herself, while his hands travel up and down her sides. The gesture makes her want to bury her head in his shoulder and laugh despite the situation.
She can feel him murmuring words against her cheek, lips descending down to her neck. Henri can’t make them out, but she can’t help but whimper a little when he switches from nipping and mouthing words against her collarbone. What he’s saying, it’s almost indecipherable but Henri feels the words seep through her skin. Some comforting, some—
Burning, searing…almost painful (the guilt seeps in, makes itself known)…
Her breathing is ragged, her hands tighten on his shoulders and her heart’s beating too fast. Too many feelings, confusing and not, were building up in her and she couldn’t sort through them. Emotions swirl around in her stomach, white hot and coiling, and she doesn’t know if they can stop now. Not while Quinn’s kissing and touching everywhere…
Henri doesn’t realize she’s muttering ‘stop, please, stop’ until his lips stop moving against her skin. She feels him pulling away from her, hands stopping their movement. She feels one of those hands cup her cheek gently, which cause her to open her eyes. It’s his sweet, boyish grin that makes Henri smile and remember—
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Henrietta wakes with a start.
(What…what in the good name of Godric Gryffindor did she just dream about?!)
That dream…certainly wasn’t the sequel she was hoping for. It was different. Very different. She was a bit startled by how she remembered . Not only were the chances of Quinn actually doing what he did to her in that dream practically nonexistent, but…
Cor wasn’t in that dream. The guy he despises took his place. (And it felt kinda…good.) …But why? Why?
Henri rubbed her face in frustration. It’d be better not to mention the dream to anyone. Especially Ellie or Cor. Yes, this wasn’t something she’d bring up any time soon.
That was the last time she read Leidy’s copy of Collecting Amortentia: Vol.4 before bed. And maybe she shouldn't stare at herself in the mirror so much...
(Of course this didn’t stop her from feeling so very awkward around Quinn for weeks afterward.)
