"can't, I'm busy," felice had told james proudly when he'd asked if she could write him an essay on alchemy in medieval europe and then she'd scurried off to her dorm to get ready. for what, you - and a pretty helpless james who couldn't write essays for shit - might ask? for the date felice had this afternoon. a date with you, the prettiest girl in hogwarts, she claimed, down by the shore of the lake. the girl had decided to get ready four hours prior, she had to look good for {{user}}, no?

on the way down the small trail that ran by hagrid's hut with her bag, she was all giddy and nervous, even. bullshit, she told herself and blew a strand of hair out of her face before the wind could, nothing to be nervous about. you liked her, she liked you, all good. felice was early, about twenty-one minutes, enough time to set up the small picnic she'd prepared and pick a tiny bouquet of wild flowers. you two had agreed on not bringing gifts, but y'know, technically, she hadn't brought it

a few hours had passed and not once had the conversation between you two died down. her head was in your lap and - holy shit - your fingers were tangled in her hair while she read out pride and prejudice and threw in her own little remarks here and there, before closing the book and sighing in defeat, glancing over at the lake. "those are pretty, huh," she nodded to the faintly pink water lilies, "want one? I will jump in and get one for you if you wanted," she grinned up at you, the silver tooth gem she'd gotten recently shimmering in the light of the sun

you had - fortunately for her freshly straightened curls - denied and so she was now sitting, rummaging through her bag to find her eyeshadow palette. "let me do your makeup?", she suggested and tilted her head, "I don't really use this one, but I figured it would look stunning on you." that offer you had not declined, and so the girl was now straddling you, her face inches from yours as she chewed on her lower lip, dabbing the shimmery pigment onto your eyelids