everything i've known * pierce

[vika3]

don’t forget me, i begged,

i remember you said, sometimes it lasts in love and sometimes it hurts instead,

Sammy may be magical – she took pride in having toujours pur blood and a matching attitude – she still wasn’t a miracle. Some things had to be done, such as sleeping until noon after a night of drinks, shaving ones legs and taking a bath to get rid of the lingering stench of cigarettes and beer. She thought she’d given herself plenty of time for that by asking Pierce to come after three, but when she stepped out of the bath and wrapped a fluffy, pink towel around herself, she felt the odd urge to hurry. After making a mental note to hang a clock in the bathroom already, she stepped onto the corridor, showering the floor with droplets and making it slippery for the next passer-by. Slight panic started to bubble in her stomach as she rummaged through her sloppy pile of clothes, trying to find her watch amidst the silk and cotton. When she finally managed to pull it out, she took a glance and quickly tossed it aside, as if destroying that evidence would make time stop. However, the facts couldn’t be changed. It was a quarter to three already and she still lacked clothes, make-up, a proper hairdo and style.

She must have set a new world record, running around as she did. Only one thing mattered: she wanted to look her best for the unemotional, greedy brat that was about to come visit her. Maybe calling him that was a bit unfair now he had actually been kind enough to agree to come bake for her and whatnot, but old habits died hard. She knew he wasn’t a good guy in any way, though that had never stopped her from caring. It probably never would. The people who were dear to her weren’t necessarily the ones who deserved it, but she’d rather aimlessly love a snake than have a healthy relationship with a badger. In a matter of minutes, she magically dried her hair, tugged on her tights - praying to an entity that they wouldn’t tear - slipped into her dress and started to rummage in her jewellery box to find a decent bracelet. Before she could pick one, however, Gowsbeak appeared in her door opening and quietly announced that ‘master Garrity has arrived’. Sammy nodded in reply and walked out of her room as casually as she could. She was halfway down the stairs when she realised she’d forgotten the most crucial part of her outfit. The bit that added grandeur and sex appeal to everything she did. The shoes. Motherfuck. Her lips pulled into a pout, she frowned at herself and froze halfway down a step. That wasn’t an elegant pose to be found in by a visitor, but she was flustered.

[claudius]

After having two sandwiches with the crust cut off sent up to his room at around two, Pierce began to seriously think about calling upon Samantha. He had basically invited himself over, but that didn’t necessarily mean that he would end up going. It was true, he was a flake, and he was lazy. He still wasn’t absolutely comfortable with Apparition, and he didn’t want to walk down the stairs to the disapproving face of his father so he could kiss his mother goodbye. Although it was absolutely possible to simply finish his mayonnaise and cucumber sandwich and Apparate out of his room, he didn’t want to feel like the prodigal son or something, abandoning his mother for sex and some muffins seemed despicable. So he took a shower, pulled on some trousers and a dress shirt and combed his hair with his fingers. He’d been to the Notts’ enough times that he couldn’t go looking like a bum, not that he would want to, because he had women to impress. He called on Sammy every so often, and usually with a gift but never had he admitted to baking and knitting before. Usually there was only one thing on his mind when he was around her, but he had to make an effort to be deeper, especially know that Valentin had claimed her.

Stowing his favorite knitting needles in his pocket, feeling like a pansy, he marched down the stairs like a gentleman, shot a filthy look at his father, like a gentleman, and kissed his mother on the cheek, like a gentleman. Waved to the butler, stepped over the threshold, and experienced that feeling of his kidneys being squished, which was become more and more familiar. Finding himself at the Nott Manor, proud of his direction, he readjusted his hair and strutted up to the big, imposing doors, hoping that he wouldn’t have to navigate around parents or anyone other then Samantha. Knocking smartly on the door, he gave his name to the house elf, and was guided to the bottom of the stairs. Looking up the circular staircase, he saw Sammy, stocking-footed, perched frozen on the step and he felt the grin crack his face. They were still young, that was for sure, and foolish, and while they were raised from the purest stock and she was engaged, they were still kids. He bounded up the stairs two at a time, wrapped her in a friendly hug, and kissed on her the cheek. They were friends, even though she constantly spouted nonsense about him hurting her. “Good afternoon, Ms. Samantha Nott,” he greeted her, guiding her down the stairs. “If I knew it was so fashionable to be barefoot, I would have forgotten my shoes as well,” he laughed, hand on the small of her back. They would go back upstairs later, but first he wanted to prove to her that he could bake.

derp derp what is this

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[vika3]

don’t forget me, i begged,

i remember you said, sometimes it lasts in love and sometimes it hurts instead,

She had the vague feeling that she’d forgotten something, which stayed even after she’d realised she wasn’t wearing any shoes. It annoyed her, but it was shoved to the back of her mind when she saw Pierce at the bottom of the stairs. In an impulse, she rubbed the side of her neck with her palm, flustered. Not because she was nervous to see him – he, like many others, had become a pleasant routine in her life – but because she felt especially conscious of her lack of height without heels. Now, Sammy wasn’t as short as some other girls in the school, she was actually of perfectly average height. However, she didn’t want to be average, she wanted to be tall, and that feat was impossible without the help of her loyal pumps. Thankfully, further scowling and pouting was disrupted by his cheerily skidding up the stairs. She automatically greeted him with open arms and hugged herself to his chest, as dangerous as that may be while one stands halfway down stairs. At that moment, she’d rather have fallen than not cuddled up to him. ”Good day, Mister Garrity,” she grinned like the Cheshire cat, her hand sliding from his neck down to his shoulders, shamelessly feeling them up. There wasn’t anything she hadn’t seen or touched before, so rather than a surprise, she got a pleasant reaffirmation of what she already knew. He was highly fancyable.

Walking downstairs surely was easier now she didn’t have to balance her body weight on thin pins. She took advantage of that by hopping like a young calf, ridiculous as it may be. It wasn’t unusual for her to be silly; although she tended to laze around and snooze all day, only taking breaks for food or sex, she had occasional outbursts of energy. This had to be one of those. Upon snatching the hand from her lower back, she held it in hers and dragged him along to the kitchen. It made her realise what she’d forgotten: lunch. His baking had better be good, or else she’d be obliged to still stuff her face with bacon afterwards. ”It’s okay, I don’t expect you to be up-to-date with all trends,” she tried to play it cool, but ended up confessing anyway. ”You surprised me, okay? I had to hurry in order to be pretty for you.” There was no shame whatsoever in dressing up for someone. If it weren’t for other people, Sammy too would like to lounge in trainers and a sweatshirt all day. But no, there were boys to stun, girls to impress, people to prove that she would always be more beautiful than they dared dream of being. That took effort. Once they reached the kitchen, she hopped up to sit on the counter, which was a peculiar but undying habit of hers. Kicking her shoeless feet back and forth, she simply smiled at him. ”Do your thing, Mrs. Puddifoot. Just accio the ingredients you need and get baking. I must say, I could definitely eat now.” Her fingers drummed impatiently on the counter surface besides her hips.

[claudius]

Smiling as she easily fell into his embrace, he tried to adjust his weight so that her enthusiastic greeting wouldn’t send them both tumbling down the stairs. As he inhaled her, he wondered why he had been rather hesitant to come visit her. If he was alone in his bedroom right now, moping about, he would not have such unrestricted access to Samantha Nott’s body, and a nice body it was indeed. Returning her grin, he realized that she was taking as full advantage of their hug as he was, and he was almost surprised how easily they had fallen into their regular relationship. The fun half, anyway. The part that ate at his soul was thankfully absent from this meeting, so far. It was bound to spring up again, especially with her recent engagement hanging in the air between them. It saddened Pierce to think that this might be the last time he could hold her, with minimal sexual intentions, without Valentin breathing down his neck. Perhaps his touches on curves were a bit unnecessary and maybe even a tad gross, but she had never really objected to them before, unless she was upset with him. Which now that he was thinking about it, was a good chunk of the time they spent together. Poisoning his own thoughts came naturally to him, second only to bringing the general mood of any crowd down a few notches. Whenever he started thinking in that sour line, he couldn’t stop until he had convinced himself and everyone around him that cigarettes and the slow, deliberate suicide they caused were heavenly.

He chuckled as he watched her tromp down the stairs, as elegant as some sort of farm animal, and he hurried after her, clutching the banister in his free hand. She must have known how her ass looked like in that dress, even without the added help of heels, because things that divine don’t happen on accident. Even though his hand was now interlocked in hers, so he was denied the liberty of touching her, he could appreciate. Nodding solemnly at her confession, he replied, “Perfectly understandable. But you do know that I like you even with your hair mussed up and clothes a bit disheveled.” Suppressing a wicked smile, he lifted an eyebrow as she launched herself on the counter. He wanted to reach out and stroke her swinging legs until they stilled, and then they quivered. He could only restrain himself because he had the oddest feeling that his baking would be tainted, maybe taste like sex which would be weird for muffins. “You know, you’ll be doing the cooking once you move in with Jackie.” His comment was light-hearted enough, but he wasn’t going to dance around the subject forever. Not meeting her eyes, he began to point his wand at the cupboards and managed to lure out the flour, sugar, eggs from places he would never think of keeping them. Stooping for a bowl, he began to whistle as he combined the ingredients. “Don’t hurt my feelings, Sammy, I am much sexier than Ms. Puddifoot. Even without the apron.”

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[vika3]

don’t forget me, i begged,

i remember you said, sometimes it lasts in love and sometimes it hurts instead,

Marrying Jacoby was good, right? It was everything she’d ever wanted. She’d always told herself that it didn’t particularly matter which snake she told ‘I do’, as long as he was pure, wealthy and drop-dead gorgeous. (Which were the criteria for a real slytherin anyway.) Jakey was all that and more; he was an angel, a surprisingly good listener who made her feel better about herself, even if she was being nothing but a whiny mess. Being his wife would be wonderful, she’d look stunning at their wedding, have his blue-eyed babies and raise those kids to be perfect little elitists. Actually, there was only one thing about being Mrs. Valentin that wasn’t too appealing: marrying Jakey meant she couldn’t marry, or even fuck, or even kiss Pierce anymore. Although she could easily quit all other men in the world, it felt wrong to ditch this one. Sammy wasn’t stupid, she didn’t believe in deep, pre-destined connections between human beings, but quitting him was about as pleasant as quitting a severe heroin addiction. She was sure she’d even get physical cold-turkey symptoms, especially now she got to cuddle up against him and be reminded of everything he was. Still, she couldn’t stand like that forever, even though that didn’t seem a bad way to waste the rest of her days. It went off to the kitchen. She had to clutch his hand in hers in order to drag him along properly and she admitted to herself that she quite liked that. Holding him tight, even if it was just his hand, reminded her that he was here, present, real, alive and in good health. That was the most important thing – the previous stabs he’d made at her in his letters didn’t matter. Sammy was the supposed Buddhist of the snake house, in the way that she saw things and didn’t respond to most of the observations, letting them float by. She was too sinful to really be religious, though. Too vain, too greedy, too selfish.

”Liar, liar, pants on fire,” she smirked, taking the opportunity to look down his body, as if to check whether his man parts really were being roasted. That would’ve been a shameful waste. ”You only like me like that if you’re the one who’s been doing all the messing up.” Somehow, the topic changed from messy sex to her upcoming marriage in the blink of an eye. She didn’t particularly mind talking about those plans of hers, even though she got a vile, bitter taste in the back of her throat now she had to look at Pierce while explaining them. She’d better chew down a couple of sugary sweet cupcakes to get rid of the bile. ”I can cook, so that’d be okay, but we’ve got house elves, you know. And Jakey himself can cook too. He makes one lovely breakfast.” Never again had Sammy felt remorse or anything remotely negative about discussing her promiscuous antics with a male, with another. However, now things had gotten serious, it felt weird. She felt like a traitor to both of them, which didn’t make sense. She’d never promised anything to anyone, she’d never said she was exclusive or even picky. Then why did she feel so bad? It was time to distract herself with some innocent teasing, before she got sad. “Of course you are. I’d prefer if you wore an apron, though all other clothing is optional.” She watched him as he fussed around, like a real housewife. It was adorable enough to tickle her stomach.