<div class="floatleft">(http://66.media.tumblr.com/9d9925a42d9e7eab7ede651862fe6c31/tumblr_npefzp2c4z1sxwyufo3_r1_500.gif)</div><div class="floatright">(https://i.imgur.com/yuExVFv.png)</div><table class="bbc_table"><tbody><tr><td><strong>NAME:</strong> Michael Oakes (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=299655.msg14703824#msg14703824)<br/><strong>YEAR:</strong> Hufflepuff / 7th Year<br/><strong>BLOOD STATUS:</strong> Muggle-Born<br/><strong>WAND:</strong> 14" | Sycamore | Dragon Heartstring<br/><strong>WEARING:</strong> A pair of black swimming trunks<br/><strong>DATE | TIME:</strong>  Saturday, 26 October, 2019 | Early Afternoon<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong> Black Lake<br/><strong>CONTENT:</strong> Swimming<br/><strong>MOOD MUSIC:</strong> Arctic Monkeys - R U Mine? (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ngzC_8zqInk)<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong> Juliette, Closed</td></tr></tbody></table><br/><hr/><br/>Michael had to make sure he didn't kick himself for stumbling. It seemed like Juliette could appreciate the way he was being relentlessly open and genuine rather than trying to feign confidence. Not that he could've done that if he did attempt to. It would have been a brutally embarrassing disaster. His eyes ran over the water drops, smiling and relaxing as he saw them catch what remained of the light. It was beautiful. But he couldn't blame her for staving off the cold.<br/><br/>He at least felt grateful that Juliette's cheeks were red like his were. It felt like a very genuine set of emotions, shared between the two. He could have remained with her for, well, he wasn't sure how long. An hour. Michael had never ever been so forward with a woman. When he thought back to kissing her he almost felt his vision go blurry. His heart rate certainly shot up. He loved the memory but he struggled to believe he'd done that. And, perhaps even more intensely, he couldn't believe it hadn't ended in disaster.<br/><br/>Historically Michael's more enthusiastic efforts at romance were met with some kind of disaster, usually brought on by recklessness or clumsiness. He could just never quite get the timing or the feeling right, and he always felt as though he was trying to be someone he wasn't. He tried to blot out the memory of a handful of the worst offenders in his dating history. At least he always tried to do the right thing.<br/><br/>He was slightly grateful for some opportunity to focus on the physical, approaching the tree alongside Juliette. He felt momentarily uncertain on reaching the tree, briefly hearing her mention a party and thinking they may not suit each other as well as the intense introduction might have suggested. But then she waved it off and he smiled wide, a gentle but warm and happy smile. He couldn't be happier to not be going to a party of Dior's. He wasn't the type to hold onto anything approaching hate, but he certainly did not have a thing in common with that woman.<br/><br/>He reached up, easily extracting his shirt from the branch and unfolding it lightly. Before putting it back on he nodded. Her suggestion of a nice wine with dinner caught his attention, but he wasn't sure if that was a comment on her tastes or a suggestion. "They're not my thing either. You're no stick in the mud." He reassured. "I drink the odd pint, or a nice cider. Sometimes shared a whisky with my old man" he commented, trying to make it clear that he did none of them too often. Michael could drink a lot, due to his size, but he rarely did.<br/><br/>"A wine with dinner is great too." He noted with a smile, fetching his wand before risking putting his shirt back on over wetness. "I'd.." He blushed red, failing to get the sentence out on his first attempt but only redoubling his efforts. "I'd much rather spend the evening with you." Michael's every facet screamed at him to hide his face or look away, but he would not allow himself. Whether he was shot down in flames or born aloft by them he would do either with his eyes on hers, even if he was blushing deeply.