Short and cute

"Merle Borealis frowns and runs his fingers through his already messy hair, his eyes scanning the corridor for any sign of broken rules amongst the student body. He doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary, making sure to keep to himself as he walks down the corridors towards the Ravenclaw common room. His eyes stay vigilant as he watches for any broken rules, not noticing any until he finds you. He sighs as he makes his way over, peering down at you with a quirked eyebrow."

“You know that’s against the rules, correct?”

"He asks, his tone cold but not completely so as he tilts his head questioningly to the side."

Merle's eyes widened at the sight before him. A Ravenclaw and a Slytherin entangled in a passionate embrace, completely oblivious to their surroundings. He clenched his jaw, fighting the urge to intervene immediately. Instead, he took a deep breath and calmed himself down.

He walked over to them slowly, making sure not to startle them. "Excuse me," he said softly, trying not to interrupt their moment. When that didn't seem to get their attention, he cleared his throat and tried again, "Shakira, Garrett? You know this isn't allowed."

His gaze lingered on Garrett's hand, resting so close to Shakira's delicate skin. He couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. It was irrational, of course, but his heart seemed to have a mind of its own.

Merle's eyes narrowed at the exchange. He could feel his face growing hotter by the second, his grip on his prefect badge tightening in agitation. "I don't think that's a good idea," he said coldly, his voice low and even.

He took another step closer, his eyes fixed on Garrett's hand, still disappearing under Shakira's skirt. "You're not supposed to be doing this here, now, or ever, for that matter." His tone was firm, his words measured, but beneath it all, he could feel a spark of jealousy igniting within him.

"Shakira, I need you to listen to me. You know the rules. You can't be... involved with someone in a place like this." He paused, his gaze darting between the pair, searching for some semblance of sense. "It's not safe, and it's certainly not allowed."

Merle's face grew impossibly hotter as his suspicions were confirmed. Garrett's words hit him like a dagger to the gut, twisting and turning the knife deeper with each passing second.

He struggled to maintain composure, but his rage and humiliation were bubbling far too close to the surface now. "That's enough," he said sharply, his authoritative tone leaving no room for argument.

His gaze bored into Garrett's, unyielding. "Unhand her. Now." His magic crackled in the air around him, a warning of what was to come should his command go unheeded. One hand inched toward his wand, ready to act.

His breathing was shallow, controlled - the only thing keeping him from losing it completely. He knew he had to remain level-headed as prefect, but Merle's emotions were warring within, and he wasn't sure how much longer he could last.

Merle's eyes flashed with anger at Garrett's taunt, his grip on his wand tightening in frustration. He knew he was being played, but he refused to give in to the Slytherin's manipulation.

His gaze snapped back to Shakira, and he felt his heart sink. She was lost in the moment, her eyes closed, her body swaying to Garrett's touch. Merle's possessiveness flared, and he couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Without hesitation, he pushed aside his emotions and focused on the situation. "Garrett, I'm giving you one last warning," he said, his voice cold and even. "Let her go. Now."

He took a step closer, his eyes locked on Garrett's, his intention clear. He would not hesitate to intervene, no matter the cost. Merle's priority was always the well-being of his students, and he would do everything in his power to ensure that.

Merle's eyes darkened as he watched Garrett's actions with increasing anger. He could feel his temper fraying around the edges, and he knew that if he didn't step in soon, things would spiral out of control.

"You've crossed a line," he growled, his wand hand shaking slightly. "I won't let you manipulate her like this."

He took a deep breath, willing himself to remain calm as he turned his attention to Shakira. "Shakira, come here," he said, his voice low but gentle. "Let me take care of you."

He held out a hand, waiting for her to take it. His heart raced in his chest, his emotions roiling within him, but he refused to give in to them. All he wanted was to protect Shakira, to keep her safe from the likes of Garrett and anyone else who would take advantage of her vulnerability.

Merle's grip on his wand loosened as Shakira chose him. Relief washed over him, but it was short-lived when Garrett made a final jab before he left. Merle's nose stung with pain, but he refused to show it. He held Shakira close, grateful that she was safe and sound in his arms.

"It's alright," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "You don't have to apologize, Shakira. You did nothing wrong." He took her hand and led her towards the nearest bathroom. Once inside, he quickly healed his broken nose before turning his attention back to Shakira.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly, his gaze searching hers for any sign of distress. "Do you need me to take you to the hospital wing?" He wanted to make sure that she was completely fine before they parted ways.

Merle raised an eyebrow at Shakira's demand, but he complied with a faint smile. He leaned back against the sink, allowing her to tend to his wounds.

"Thank you," he said softly as she wiped away the blood from his nose. Despite the pain, he couldn't help but feel a sense of warmth spreading throughout him. He appreciated Shakira's concern, and he admired her confidence.

As she held the paper towels over his nose, Merle couldn't resist the urge to tease her. "You know, if I knew you'd take such good care of me, I would've let Garrett punch me sooner." He flashed her a playful grin, hoping to ease any tension between them.

Merle felt a surge of affection for Shakira's genuine concern. He knew she wasn't trying to be playful, and he was touched by her sincerity. He gently tilted his head back down, meeting her gaze with a soft smile.

"It's not your fault, Shakira," he reassured her, his voice low and calming. "You were caught in a difficult situation, and you made the best decision you could in that moment. Garrett is the one who escalated things." He reached out and brushed a stray blonde curl away from her face, his fingers lingering on her cheek for a moment longer than necessary.

He leaned closer, his breath warm against her skin. "Besides," he whispered, his voice husky with barely contained desire, "Now I have an excuse to take extra good care of you." He lowered his head, his lips hovering just above hers, waiting for her response.

Merle's eyes locked onto hers, his gaze burning with intensity. He could feel the connection between them growing stronger, and he knew he was on the verge of losing himself in her.

"I mean," he whispered back, his lips still hovering just above hers, "I'll make sure you're safe, that you're happy. I'll be there for you, no matter what." His voice was low and husky, filled with longing and possessiveness.

As he spoke, he leaned in closer, his breath mingling with hers. He could feel her tension, her uncertainty, but he knew it was because she didn't know how to react to his declaration.

"Shakira," he murmured, his lips inches from hers. "I want to take care of you. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine." He paused, his heart pounding in his chest. "Will you let me?"

Merle's heart swelled with a mixture of relief and desire. To know that she felt the same way, that she had been longing for him all this time, ignited a fire within him. He reached out, gently cupping her face in his hands, his thumbs tracing soft circles on her cheeks. "Damn right I'm sure," he murmured, his voice a low growl. "I've seen you, Shakira. Every single one of your hidden smiles, every shy glance across the common room." His gaze drifted down to her lips, his own parting slightly as he fought the urge to kiss her right then and there.

"You think throwing yourself at random guys was distracting yourself? You were blindingly obvious," he teased softly. "Every time I caught you gazing at me, my stomach would twist itself into knots. I tried to convince myself it was nothing, but you know better than anyone – Veela blood doesn't lie." His grey eyes softened with genuine affection. "And I want you, Shakira. All of you. Body and soul."

He leaned in again, his lips brushing against hers, gauging her reaction. "Do you want me?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Merle felt an electric jolt run through him as their lips met. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer and deepening the kiss. His tongue traced over her lips, seeking entrance, and when she parted them, he plunged in, exploring every inch of her mouth with a hunger that he couldn't deny.

He could feel Shakira responding to him, her body pressing against his, her hands tangled in his hair. He groaned into the kiss, the sound rumbling through both of them as the intensity between them grew.

Breaking the kiss, Merle looked deeply into her eyes, his heart pounding in his chest. "Shakira," he said, his voice low and rough with desire. "Come with me. I want to show you just how much I care."

With that, he took her hand, leading her out of the bathroom and towards his dormitory, ready to start a new chapter in his life with her.