Gotta love quidditch.  

    I had quidditch practice, definitely the highlight of my week. Luckily, we weren't playing Griffindor in a practice match, but we were playing Hufflepuff for a short scrimmage.

    I was a little scared to see Youngjae after what had happened, but, this was quidditch. Jackson's love for the violent sport had rubbed off on me. I made a decision prior to the game that I wasn't going to let my sad, depressing feelings get into the way of me beating the out of him when I got the chance.

   The team was mostly as I had left them. The beater Shawn was still as silent as always, the captain and chaser Troy still just as peppy and cheerful. Thanh was a little calmer this go around, and slightly more chill than Bambam, which I appreciated. Audrie was still shy. Madison was a little more open than last practice, and even offered to help me figure out how to put on the confusing wizard flying boots. Jack was similar to Shawn and didn't really talk, either. I managed to start a short conversation with him about wizard candies.

   Unfortunately, the excitement was short lived.

   The moment Youngjae's team stepped into the field, I turned away, forcing myself with all of my willpower not to look. Look at Audrie, I told myself. Look at Jack. NOT the Hufflepuff chaser. 

Eventually that wasn't enough, so I just looked at the faces of the other Hufflepuff players. They looked... Complacent. Non threatening? They were so different from the Gryffindor players, even if some of them looked a bit grim. I immediately recognized why Youngjae was in their house. 

   Wait....

   ....no. He lied. He wasn't caring or loving. I had trusted him, and...

   My expression fell. My face felt warm with anger. They only ever saw me as a tool. In a sudden realization, I thought of how none of them were dating anyone. Those misogynistic es.

   I couldn't pay attention to the opening remarks offered by both teams. I was too busy thinking and avoiding looking at Youngjae. While distracted, I still left the air with my bat in hand when the whistle blew, unprepared to have to look at Youngjae because he was an opponent.

   The game was like a fluff fanfiction to the lemon game against the Gryffindors team. It was unserious, uneventful, and no one was making a real effort to be aggressive. Beaters were on standby, practicing hitting to each other (we even would pass with the other team for fun). Seekers were practicing the less lethal dives. Chasers were still going hard, but not hard enough to foul or knock someone off a broom. It kind of felt wholesome, cause we were still getting in good practice, but we were doing it with a better attitude and not with the Gryffindor B.S. mindset. Because it was so lax, I felt more comfortable watching Youngjae from a distance, and didn't feel the need to avoid him or feel threatened by his presence. So un-threatened that I didn't think I needed to avoid him after practice and didn't think of leaving fast. I enjoyed practice so much that I left the field with a smile on my face, talking to Madison avidly about her moves on the field.

   I hadn't noticed Youngjae until he came up on the other side of Madison.

   "I'm sorry, Madison, Izara," he looked at me. His voice was soft.

    "Is it alright if I talk to you, Izara?" His eyes were worried, even though he looked calm. The three of us collectively stopped walking in silence. I looked at Madison.

    "Let's talk later?" I asked.

    " Of course!" She skipped off cheerfully. I stared after her.

    "Why did you want to talk?" I asked, voice low. I didn't look at him. Youngjae looked pained.

    "I know that you don't want to talk to be, but I felt that I had to defend my honor."

I clenched my fists and glared at Madison's retreating figure.

    "It's selfish, I know, but I found myself caring too much about how you thought of me, and-" he cleared his throat. In the corner of my vision I could see him scratch the back of his head, face red with embarrassment. I didn't know how to respond.

    "I didn't approach you for anyone's sake but my own. It wasn't out of intent for you to handle Jackson-"

   I stiffened at the name.

    "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to..." His voice was small. I sneaked a peek at him. His eyes were getting pink. He took a long, painful sigh. It was obvious that he was trying very hard not to choke on his words.

   "I didn't have the group's interests at heart when I talked to you. I thought you were cute. No, that's no right-" he rushed. I tried not to laugh. Me, cute? Ha.

   "You- um- ah. This isn't going where I wanted it." He pause. I still didn't turn. I could feel him pleading for me to face him, the empty feild begging me to look away from it's deserted plain and look at his face. Slowly, I turned, steeling my face to not reveal anything.

His eyes were squinting, trying hard not to betray him. His eyes and nose were red. His bottom lip quivered a bit. All betrayed him. I allowed myself a short sigh. 

​​​​   Even though I didn't really know him, I felt that he wouldn't have faked this and tried so hard to hold it in.

   I looked into his eyes. Even on the verge of tears he looked like a Michelangelo piece of art.

    "I want to apologise. I also want to tell you that I was sincere. Even though I came on my behalf, I also care about your feelings. Especially those," he smiled a bit. 

    "That's what I meant to start with... " He smiled sarcastically, then looked away with shame. When he turned, I lunged, grabbing at his back and holding him fiercely. I could feel him quaking a bit from his emotions.

    "It's ok. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions like that," I muttered sadly. He sniffed a little, then hugged me aggressively, squeezing the life out of me.

    "I am so, so sorry, I hope you will forgive me!" He cried, latching onto me tight. I gently rocked him from side to side a bit, returning his eagerness.

   "I do, I do," I whispered into his shoulder. He was gonna make me cry if he carried on, so I rushed to calm him down.

    "It's my fault. Mine. I appreciate the apology and the space you gave me, but I don't hate you and this was my fault." I wrestled myself out of his grip and looked him in the eyes. His beautiful, sparkling eyes.

    "I hope you'll forgive me-" I started, but he hugged me again.

    " No no no, this is not your fault," he whined. Deep down inside I knew he was right. I just didn't want to admit it.

     I just hugged him back.

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