hey we should do that plotting thing (⊙‿⊙✿)
riordan greyback. eighteen. slytherin.
an undeniable amount of cleverness and a wicked, charming smirk to top it all off — of course, how could you assume he was anything but a slytherin? seemed like such a silly thing to question.
unfortunately, no one could ever really decide what was nastier — the fact that he always looks as if he hasn’t showered in the days, how he never fails to have a cigarette lit between his slightly chapped lips, or how his face is practically never not accompanied with a girl’s thighs.
he’s got that “i’m badass so don’t mess with me” impression. you know, leather jackets that have a remaining lighter in the chest pocket all the time and a stone hard expression that could scare you off for days. perhaps that’s why pritchard and sloper dragged him into their mess that consisted of broken bones, missing teeth, and various cuss words.
typically he wouldn’t be interested.
but there was something unusual about it that drew him closer and he couldn’t never place his finger on it no matter how hard he tried.
maybe, just maybe, it was the unfamiliar feeling of the thrill of it that encouraged the adrenaline to rush through his veins and excite him the most. he didn’t know. then again, he honestly didn’t care.
it pretty much, in more simple terms, made him feel a part of something — which wasn’t a quality he possessed before. after all, being arrogant and an insensitive, callous asshole with his bluntness never quite managed to get him far.
in the end though, he’s just a temperamental boy with spiteful stubbornness and a young heart.
not much else to it.
hello
