“Grotesque, darling.” Hefin replied nonchalantly to the witch in front of him as he finished his glass of whisky. Placing it on a waiter’s tray as they passed by him, the part Welsh ran a hand through his long locks as he glanced at the woman – a rich socialite witch from Nottingham, who’d apparently come to the party especially to see him. Naturally, Hefin wasn’t pleased. While he enjoyed meeting fans and admirers who appreciated him for the great quidditch player that he was, the man did not relish in witches from his social circle making a prey out of him. Rumour that Heather Walker was trying to put a leash around his neck and pass it to someone who could handle him was as popular as always, hence the current situation. At his words though, the witch in question raised her glass and threw the champagne onto his face, getting up and leaving from his sofa – to which she had invited herself, mind you.
He couldn’t but laugh – such practises worked still, and, truthfully, Hefin had a bit of desire within him to tell
@Christèle Deveaux about this entire event. Surely, she would find it as amusing as he did. The former Hufflepuff got up from his seat and pulled out his wand from his sleeve and with a flick, he fixed his attire, along with his drying his hair. Placing his wand into his trousers’ back pocket, Hefin straightened his back and glanced around the room; while initially he’d been aiming to find Parvati – it was a Witch Weekly party after all, and the sole reason he hadn’t declined attending had been his dear friend – his gaze fell on the figure of the witch he’d actually come together that night. Rachel Rake, his team’s keeper – the irony, really – was already charming her third, or was it fourth, man that evening. A condescending smirk appeared on his face as nodded his head in disapproval, his gaze moving towards the poor unfortunate fool Rachel was so passionately talking to.
His smile faded, and Hefin clicked his tongue annoyed. He took a shot of vodka from a waiter’s tray, and after downing it, placed it on the nearest table, and lazily approached the sofa on which nobody else than Kate’s boyfriend was seemingly deeply enjoying Rachel’s attentions – probably because he was just being polite with a foreign fan. As soon as he reached her field of vision, Rachel behaved as per usual – fascinated with her captain to her very core, the Australian witch jumped to her feet, and approached him, placing both her hands on the sides of his hips as she got on her toes to affectionately place a kiss on his cheek. While he’d have normally been much warmer with Rachel, this time around Hefin simply turned his cheek the slightest bit, so Rachel would have no issues reaching her target. He placed a hand on her back, and slowly moved it downwards, his eyes fixed on Charlie’s figure.
Rachel pulled him towards their sofa, and Hefin obediently followed, the sarcastic smirk on his face being ever-present. His adorably uninformed keeper made the introductions, and Hefin let out a soft laugh as she addressed him. Always a smooth talker, this Rachel. Nonetheless, as Charlie spoke, the quidditch player arched an eyebrow, a bit confused. Prick? What the fuck had he done to deserve such an appellative? Or was Charlie, in fact, bothered that Hefin freed him from Rachel? Had he not desired to be recused from Rachel’s advances? Hef placed his hand on his female friend’s chin, and lowered enough to whisper in her ear. “Sex on the beach, ace.” With that, he allowed Rachel to go, and lazily took a seat on the sofa, opposite to the older man. Rolling up his shirt’s sleeves, Hefin let out a soft, yet arrogant “Ha.” at Charlie’s comment. Of course Kate was not there, for if his friend would have been present, Rachel would have never approached Charlie. His teammate was trashy, but not that sort of human garbage, to go for someone who was already involved.
Hefin stretched out an arm over the sofa’s edge and crossed his legs as he shifted to glance once more in the other man’s direction. It had been all quite slowly executed, for Hefin had perhaps mixed up already too many beverages – whisky, gin, wine, champagne, vodka, maybe even a little tequila. He didn’t recall it all, and that was clearly a sign of a bit of an overindulgence in the party’s refreshments.
“It’s called being a best friend.” Hefin elegantly shrugged one shoulder. He hadn’t been especially aware that Charlie was superbly bothered of the time he spent with Kate, to the extent that the English would phrase it so it would imply something else than an innocent friendship was going on. Just like Rachel, Hefin as well was not that kind of person to involve themselves with someone in a relationship. Furthermore, while Kate was indeed a beautiful, strong, and fierce woman, Hefin had never nurtured any kind of romantic feelings towards the American witch; they’d simply gotten along since the moment they met, and grew closer as friends as time passed by. If anything, she was his confidante and vice versa. He smirked at the thought, and upon recalling some bits of their previous conversations.
“Can’t say the same thing about you though.” Hefin commented, letting his hair fall off his shoulder, as his gaze focused again on Charlie’s figure. “A good boyfriend would never be so enraptured by the notorious Rachel Rake.” Hefin turned his glance towards the bar, where his fellow Australian was already using her charms on another wizard. That was Rachel for you. Still, the view was interesting enough for him not to look back at Charlie. “Where is my darling
Katie now, anyway?” The quidditch player inquired, especially emphasising on the nickname he used for Kate. “I suppose she’d be very interested in knowing her…” – he paused for a moment, afterwards adding especially cynically – “
beau is… philandering with
my keeper.”
