#plsemmavanity

[demetriayaxley]

Demetria sat on her sofa, tapping her foot impatiently. Emma had told her she was coming over, but time had seemed to slow to a halt, and Demetria could have sworn that that had been ages ago. A click look at her shabby wall clock told her that only about fifteen minutes had passed, and that she was being ridiculous.

Demetria and Emma had become something of an item over the past week or so. It had started with a simple kiss, but it had very quickly become so much more. In a fit of drunken jealousy, Demetria had accosted Emma at the Malfoys’ masquerade ball, and they had ended up going to bed together, for a second time.

After the whirlwind of events and emotions she had experienced over the past week, Demetria was ready to slow down (something she almost never did). She wanted to talk to Emma--sober and clothed--and discuss what exactly they were doing together. Demetria was a Yaxley, and the Yaxleys did not allow others to take advantage of them. This case would be no different.

Finally, Demetria heard a knock on the door and she jumped out of her seat. She smoothed her hair back instinctively before approaching the door and opening it, a smile lighting up her face. “Well, hello there.”

[demetriayaxley]

Demetria had decided to get herself another drink when she spotted Emma Vanity by the drinks table, pouring herself something. Normally, Demetria would try to avoid a scene, but she was a bit too drunk and a bit too jealous to care.

A few days previously, she had spent a night with Emma after kissing her on a dare. She wouldn’t usually be so keen on accosting recent hook-ups, but things with Emma had been different. Demetria had never felt that way while kissing anyone, and the sex, well... needless to say, it was miles better than the fumbling encounters Demetria had had in the Restricted Section of the Hogwarts library as a student.

It was clear, however, that Emma did not feel the same way. Here she was, barely days later, spending an entire evening flirting with Isadora Nott, who was married. Of course, married heiresses were more Emma’s type, but Demetria had thought that maybe, after the night they’d shared, the wizard would reconsider.

Putting on an excellent scowl, Demetria approached the drinks table and vigorously poured herself some Firewhisky. She purposely moved to the side a little bit, jostling Emma with a bit more hostility than would be expected of an “accident.” 

“Oh,” she said coldly, turning and looking at Emma. “Emma. Hadn’t noticed you there.”