so what. crossover drabble.
so what;
crossover drabble: grey's anatomy/harry potter;
alex karev/fleur delacour - G
Once a month she knows he’s in pain, and hungry for something she can’t offer him. Once a month she has to hide from him, go visit her parents, go visit his parents, just go away. It’s so different from her once-a-month, when she craves for his touch and is happy to snuggle in his firm embrace.
She feels rejected once a month, and then over and over again.
Her decision comes against her character, against her very will; she sees the time for sacrifice and takes her chance with a sickening reluctance.
“I am qualified enough, Bill”, she says before leaving.
-
“What are we now, fuckin’ Prada backstage?”
Fleur wrinkles her nose, smoothing her light blue uniform. She thinks it suits her; it brings up the colour of her eyes.
“Prada?” she asks, her rolled r widening his grin.
“Are you for real?” he retorts; he’s used to banter and teasing, but the woman looks dead serious. And quite beautiful, too.
“I came here to persuade myself I am”, she answers.
-
So what if he feeds her mouthfuls of hotdog when she struggles to escape; what if she tries to make him listen to her Baudelaire reciting while all he wants to do is crawl in the bed for an hour of sleep?
“Alex Karev”, she spells it loudly, cracking a smile in front of her mirror.
His arms hug her from behind. And what if she yields? All in all he’s always had a penchant for blondes.
crossover drabble: grey's anatomy/harry potter;
alex karev/fleur delacour - G
Once a month she knows he’s in pain, and hungry for something she can’t offer him. Once a month she has to hide from him, go visit her parents, go visit his parents, just go away. It’s so different from her once-a-month, when she craves for his touch and is happy to snuggle in his firm embrace.
She feels rejected once a month, and then over and over again.
Her decision comes against her character, against her very will; she sees the time for sacrifice and takes her chance with a sickening reluctance.
“I am qualified enough, Bill”, she says before leaving.
-
“What are we now, fuckin’ Prada backstage?”
Fleur wrinkles her nose, smoothing her light blue uniform. She thinks it suits her; it brings up the colour of her eyes.
“Prada?” she asks, her rolled r widening his grin.
“Are you for real?” he retorts; he’s used to banter and teasing, but the woman looks dead serious. And quite beautiful, too.
“I came here to persuade myself I am”, she answers.
-
So what if he feeds her mouthfuls of hotdog when she struggles to escape; what if she tries to make him listen to her Baudelaire reciting while all he wants to do is crawl in the bed for an hour of sleep?
“Alex Karev”, she spells it loudly, cracking a smile in front of her mirror.
His arms hug her from behind. And what if she yields? All in all he’s always had a penchant for blondes.