#parvatiis

[michaelscorner]

⁇, $

Send “⁇” for a DRUNK text.

[ michael → parvati ]  parvtai hel p seamus is talking to someone[ michael → parvati ]  it’s a BOY prvati A BOY[ michael → parvati ]  you’re pretty, distract whoever the fuck it is while i make my move[ michael → parvati ]  ok its a plan the code word if something goes wrong is gillyweed

Send “$” for an ACCIDENTAL text.

[ michael → parvati ]  have i ever told you i’m so lucky to have you??[ michael → parvati ]  and like you’re just amazing ?? [ michael → parvati ]  a true lesbian icon

[ michael → parvati ]  oh shit sorry that was for padma[ michael → parvati ]  you’re pretty cool too tho 

[finnigxns-blog]

❝

It was a party, loud and blinding--and Seamus was grateful for that. He’d spent the better part of an hour (or was it two? or three?) standing among a crowd of people, his smile wide, his laugh loud. He thinks he oughtn’t feel this good, somewhere in the back of his mind. But he shoots a grin at the person closest to him, and recognizes Parvati smiling back. He wants to ask her to take a shot with him--but his brain reminds itself, belatedly that they had already, and really, should he be taking more?

He eyed the bottle of liquor sitting on a sidetable nearby. His body screaming out in all the ways that it was a bad idea. He’d been pouring shots since the moment he stepped through the door. The alcohol cold and sharp and numb. He knew he should have stopped several drinks ago--wonders why Dean hasn’t yet reached out with a cup of water and smart comment to stop him, and glances around the circle he’s in again. Surely he’d be nearby, they always stuck close together at parties--and Dean would tell him if he’d found a girl he was going off with, wouldn’t just leave him like this--Seamus feels panicked, eyes frantic, moving between from person to person, something was wrong--

Seamus feels it crash over him like a tidal wave, his heart halting, as he remembers. Part of the reason he’d needed to drink so much--to go numb. Dean’s not there. He’s not going to be there. 

It’s just Seamus. 

He closes his eyes, lifting his cup to his lips, and swallows. When he opens his eyes--his cup once full now empty, and catches Parvati staring at him with a half-smile, and a look of concern, he feels his gut clench. He loved the girl, and the fact that she clearly cared for him, (and he for her), but he couldn’t, he couldn’t just pretend that everything was fine.

He found himself shuffling closer to the girl, leaning down, the words falling out of his lips before he could stop them. “Listen Parv, you’re brilliant--you are, no really.” He grabbed hold of her hand tightly in his own, and stared into her eyes as well as he could. “You and all the other Gryff girls are brilliant, so lovely including me in things, and I adore you, all of you, I do--” She was staring back at him, her concern growing evident, and Seamus couldn’t help but to continue. “But I miss having someone to go to. Someone, someone who was mine. And mine alone.” His breathing stuttered, eyes dropping from Parvati’s; the feelings washing over him, bright and burning.

“I don’t want to keep feeling so alone.”

[michaelscorner]

☠

With Ravenclaw showing face just a smidge past fashionably late, the party is well on its way to a rager by the time Michael steps through the common room doors; music blaring, furniture pushed to the room’s edge, and plenty of familiar faces – many of which he wouldn’t have suspected willing to touch a Slytherin party with a 10 foot pole. They were pleasant surprises, though, and no sooner does Michael cross the threshold than he’s enveloped into warm hugs, clasps on the back, and greetings all around.

He doesn’t see Parvati until he reaches the bar. Rather, she sees him first. He’s already disposed of the birthday gifts – cheap bourbon for Noah and cheaper vodka for Pansy that’s been 2/3 of the way filled with water, because, unsurprisingly, they all got carried away at the pregame. When Parvati closes the space between them she’s prepared. Michael’s hardly had enough time to think about what he wants to drink before a glass of suspiciously clear liquid is pushed into his hand.

“Shit, Patil, you made it down here?” Michael grins and takes the glass without complaint. He thinks, briefly, of their talk by the Owlery or their last meeting in the Room of Requirement, but pushes those away as quickly as they come. “My god, if that’s the case you must be hammered and I really need to catch up.” She doesn’t tell him what he’s drinking, even when he asks, and he supposes that’s fairly on-brand; he wouldn’t have said, either. 

He tips the glass back against his teeth in one swift motion and has to fight a grimace as the liquor slips down his throat. “Fuck, find me something to wash that down with – what the fuck even was that?”