Bewitched

Cohen scowled at her comment about holding her, although it was wasted as all he could see was the back of her head. She was half right though, he was being ridiculous about putting his arms round her, but he still hesitated. Ramona was his best friend, she wrestled him, called him out when he was being an arse, and he felt completely comfortable around her...which was why the situation made him awkward. He'd never held her or Dominique, not like he would a girl he was interested in. It didn't help that the two were alone, soaking wet, and their emotions were rawer than usual. There was no third person to distract them, and no way to remove themselves from the tight atmosphere. He wasn't sure why all of this bothered him, he wouldn't have cared if they had been surrounded by people.

"Some girls would kill to be where you are, you know. He replied, but was pretty sure she hadn't heard him as suddenly she shoved herself backwards. His throat constricted, and he couldn't speak as she proceeded to force his arms around her small waist. The conditions did not help at that moment. He heard the slap as his arms stuck to the fabric of her clothes which had become thin with rain. Her back moulded to him, and he could feel her heart thudding against his chest. Cohen was positive he'd never been in a position like that before, and swallowed the lump in his throat. What the hell was going on with him? This was Ramona, his best friend, and Cohen was thinking...He didn't even know what. Cringing, Cohen forced his fear to the forefront of his mind, finding it an oddly satisfying distraction.

"Push? You mean like jump, or kick?" He asked, but once again his voice was taken by the breeze. He felt her jolt and instinctively hit the ground with the balls of his feet, forcing him into the air. The moment his feet left the earth Cohen panicked. He wasn't proud to admit it, and scolded himself the entire time as fear ripped in his veins. His arms clenched onto her so tightly that he wondered if she could breathe, but couldn't stop himself. "Shit," he hissed into her ear. "Whose stupid idea was this again?" He looked upwards, and tried to control the shiver in his body. I don't like this. The broom lurched with the a strong gust and for a second he thought he might throw up, but managed to contain it. He could feel every inch of Ramona but struggled to move his attention onto anything other than the almost certain death that was coming for him.

Cohen wasn't the type of boy who panicked. He left that to people who didn't have any self control and freaked out at the slightest, most trivial things. Yet, there he was frozen in terror because he was a few feet above the Earth. Pain was jolting up his arms from the tension in his muscles, and he could feel the edge of Ramona's ribcage scraping against his forearm. Though mostly drowned out by the thunderous wind, his logic whispered sense to him. If he fell now, he wouldn't die, they weren't high enough. A broken arm or leg, but not death. Cohen tried to focus on this and ignore the black creeping into his vision. He was going to pass out, like some kind of terrified first year.

"Cohen," a voice murmured, cutting through his swarm of thoughts. The broom was chaffing against his trousers and making his leg sore, worsening as he leaned closer to Ramona. She was squirming in his grasp, and her fingers fumbled with his which were still clenched. He was hurting her. His logic practically screamed at him, warning Cohen that he was holding on too tightly, that he had to let her go. His fear fought back, surging from his stomach like his own brand of poison. Ramona wriggled harder and he could have sworn she was growing weaker. An image of her falling from the broom stamped into his vision, and his fear mutated. Cohen released her completely, holding his hands in the air beside her, despite it being his only security. "I'm s-sorry." He blurted out, clenching his jaw as shame took him. "Ramona?" He called, although the wind had died down at some point. "I didn't mean to..."

Cohen hadn't expected the sudden anger burning behind her eyes as she landed on the stands. Ramona was livid, and he hadn't known how to react when she clenched his shirt and yanked him towards her. Yes, thinking about it he had been stupid letting her go, and if she hadn't grabbed him so soon he knew he would have slipped off, but was there any need for this?

"You nearly killed me..." the words hung in the air as she relaxed, dropping her head onto his chest. Cohen stood still like a moron, feeling her final sentence shooting into his body and contorting into guilt. He'd panicked, and he hated to admit it. He thought he was looking after her by releasing his grip, not putting her in further danger. The wizard gritted his teeth, his jaw aching from the pressure, as he watching his friend sit down. The two had bickered in the past, both being passionate and stubborn, but never like this. He'd never felt so awkward, it wasn't the same as usual.

He took a hesitant step towards Ramona and lowered down beside her, his fingers clutching the bench. "I think it's safe to say Quidditch isn't my strongest sport," he said and chuckled darkly, hoping to diffuse the tension. Cohen glanced at her and felt another wave of unwanted regret, but it was mingled with a jolt of pride powered anger. "I shouldn't have come up with you, I can't fly and you know why. You shouldn't have goaded me into it, you know you did..." He paused, hearing the bite in his voice, when he continued he attempted to shake the frustration. "I freaked out. It only got worse when I thought I was hurting you, I couldn't see anything happen to you even if it meant I bloody fell from the broom and broke my neck." The thought of her falling and dying because of him made his stomach lurch. He shook his head and grabbed the bench harder, the wood splintering into his palms.

Cohen didn't think she would notice his grip, and jumped when he she tugged his hand onto her lap. There was no pain as she began pulling splinters that had burrowed in his skin, although in reality they were only being forced in further. Ramona turned her eyes to him, giving an uncharacteristically vulnerable look. Cohen's stomach jolted, and he frowned at the response.

He considered milking it, and making her feel guilty for a little while longer, but couldn't bring himself to. Instead he twitched his thumb up and ran it briefly over Ramona's hand. "Maybe...if it hadn't been raining, and windy, and night...I would have been ok?" A grin spread across his face and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. Cohen squeezed her chuckled into her hair, "If it helps...you are the only person in the world I would have gotten on a broom with, especially in weather like this..." Suddenly the Gryffindor felt awkward as his stomach reacted again, and he moved his head off of her, loosening his grip.

She was still dripping wet, although so was he. Still, she looked quite nice with her hair in tangles, and face flushed with colour. Wild and alive, rather than covered up and casual like he was used to. If it had been anyone other girl Cohen would have been seriously attracted to her at that moment. He tensed, the thought sticking at the front of his mind like a burning brand. He cleared his throat and fixed a smile onto his face, "At least we're alive, right? No harm done." His hand was still on her shoulder, but he didn't remove it, paranoid that the sudden movement would be suspicious, and attempted to ignore the feel of her on his palm.