Poppy could feel herself coming to a cross-roads. However, and whatever, had brought her to this precipice, she had nobody to blame but herself. She knew better than to meander around without a chaperone; she knew better than to sneak into parties she had no business attending as she’d not yet debuted. And still… the young Ravenclaw couldn’t find herself too terribly regretful for the actions that had led her hence. Perhaps that was the nature of the hellion that twisted and slept so soundly within her person. Eying the handsome Slytherin before her as he admitted his very ungallant, ungentlemanly behavior, Poppy resisted the urge to laugh at him. It said something that Mr. Lestrange could be so honest about his intentions, whatever side of propriety they fell upon. She debated chastising him formally or simply rolling her eyes, but before either could come about, the gentleman leaned in with intention and actually kissed her! What gall!
Poppy felt herself tense under his touch and everything decent and well-bred in her determined to pull back and give him a good slap! She knew it was what he deserved, despite her own folly for leading them astray. Still, she couldn’t help but marvel at the sensation of him flooding all her senses. It was nothing like kissing Ida or June. It was… all encompassing, inviting even, and not at all how terrible and ruinous Mama and Aunt Viola and even society made it out to be! Poppy lingered for a moment too long and then pulled back abruptly, a dazed look on her face.
Big brown eyes blinked once, twice, and three times before Poppy regained herself. She raised a hand then and gave Mr. Lestrange a good, flat-palmed smack right across the cheek. Her face, for what it was worth, was flushed and astonished - if not just slightly amused - and Poppy forced herself out of it. “Mr. Lestrange!” She admonished, aghast. “If you have such ungentlemanly intentions, I beg you to please reconsider.” The frown she’d forced wasn’t sustainable and Poppy tried to maintain it as best she could. “I should rather like us to be friends and this behavior of yours makes things quite difficult!”
The brunette eyed Mr. Lestrange then, carefully, for some semblance of return violence. For all the bluster that he carried about himself, she didn’t quite think him capable of it but one could never be too careful. After a beat, a half-abashed smile finally broke through onto her countenance. “Let us forget this ever happened,” Poppy offered gently, face still flushed. She dropped her head a little bit and looked down at her shoes then.
“I…I should like to have someone as honest and amusing as you to find respite in this upcoming season. You can continue to regale me with stories of your travels.” She said, quietly. “I have no need to hide from you how unamusing tiresome gentleman can be.” Poppy turned a trusting, mischievous look in his direction again. “So please, find a way to comport yourself in a manner that better becomes the both of us.”
© Fox