𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃; ʜᴘ (𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐃)

𝟎𝟖𝟗; ᴀᴀ. ᴍᴀʀᴠᴏs

"BRAT, WHAT THE FUCK?" Were person's first words upon arrival.

It was a male.

He wore all black, from his pair of combats boots with red soles— similar to Ophelia's own— to his slacks, and long sleeve turtleneck sweater, along with a matching leather jacket draped over his shoulders, with a pair of leather gloves. A mix of both formal and punk style.

"So?" He demanded, paying no attention to the gazes of the masses, his voice deep and velvety.

Even though he was right in front of them, he still felt so far away. Like he was from distance realm almost, with that beauty of his.

"You better have a good explanation. I was about to get into street race." He said.

Hearing this Sirius approves— James it still trying to process everything, as he is Sirius and Remus are getting ready to hold him down.

Ophelia grimaced— she knew that he hated it when someone or something interrupted him from a race, street racing or otherwise.

"Well long story short—" After explaining to him.

He had given her a deadpanned stare.

"This shit has to be a joke, just like my existence." He had his arms now crossed over his chest, and a foot tapping the ground impatiently, a scowl on his handsome face. "Tell me it is."

"Sorry to disappoint but it is not." Ophelia said.

"I swear to God, and I'm a fucking atheist. I will kill you when we get back for roping me into this shit." He glared at her.

"You know you love me." She just grinned.

"Yes, you are right you fucking, Brat. I just love sooo damn much, I tried killing you." He replied thick sarcasm laced his voice. "Multiple times."

"The notes you sent with the chocolates says otherwise." Ophelia laughed playfully.

He scoffed as Ophelia smirked at him.

Ophiuchus's balled his gloved hands into a fist.

Thankfully he has gloves on, otherwise his nails would have pierced through the palm of his hands and drew blood, due to how forcefully his hands were balled together.

"You fucking Brat." He narrowed his eyes.

"Stop and just sit with me already." She gestured to the empty space next to her.

Aleksis looked at in disgust.

"No. It's filthy, I'd rather die." He sneered.

"Your such a germaphobe." Ophelia said, as she stood up and walked towards him.

She wasted no more time before dashing towards him, practically colliding into him.

Despite the force of her impact Aleksis didn't budge at all. Instead he had a disgusted look, before pushing her off.

"Get off me. Who knows what germs you had just infected me with. Sanitize yourself before coming near me again." He said.

Ophelia wasn't even fazed.

That is just how Aleksis is.

He looks down at himself.

"I have to burn these later."

He flicked his wrist— yet nothing happened.

Seems Ophelia forgot to mention the lack of magic to Aleksis who was now looking at her.

"Ophelia Lilith Potter. What happened to my magic? If I cannot disinfect myself from these germs you had transferred onto me. Absolutely nothing will stop me from removing your heart from your chest, and forcing it down your gullet, choking you with it all while it is still beating." Aleksis threatened.