(no subject)
Title; Tiny Dancers
Rating; PG
Pairing; Ron/Draco
Prompt; 013. Waltz
Prompt set; 50.3
Word Count; 376
Summary; ' Our relationship was a dance, an intricate waltz where we had to put our feet in certain steps to ensure the happiness we felt beneath the surface would continue. '
Warnings; angst, drug use
Disclaimer; This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N; This is written for my 100quills prompt of Ron/Draco.
A/N; Title is from the Elton John song 'Tiny Dancer'.
Tiny Dancers
by; Mack
Our relationship was a dance, an intricate waltz where we had to put our feet in certain steps to ensure the happiness we felt beneath the surface would continue. If we put a foot in the wrong place a line was crossed and a fight would begin. We would scream at each other into the still of the night over nothing at all and something important at the same time.
One of us was bound to leave, and it was usually him. I would watch as his broad shoulders walk through the door, the red hair I loved so much disappearing into the night as the door closed and he went to where he usually went.
Only then would I allow myself to cry, collapse on the floor unable to hold the fear that this time it was permanent, that he wouldn’t come back. It would drive me to drink, to drugs, to smoke all through the night, moving closer and closer to that sweet oblivion that I so desperately wanted.
I would black out, collapsed on the floor unable to hold myself up as I cradled the bottle to me, the needle still in my arm, and the lighter on the floor, tears on my face as I blanked out and there would be no more pain, nothing.
I would wake and I would be in his arms one more, he came back once more to me. Sorrow and worry on his face as he sat by my bed, by the hospital bed, by the toilet holding my hand as he had his own tears in his eyes threatening to spill down.
“Don’t leave, please don’t leave me,” he would whisper whenever he thought I was asleep and I could only think the same thing to him.
I would be released and the entire dance would begin again, a never ending waltz of pain and love, torment and happiness, wishing it would end and at the same time never wanting it to end.
I wanted this waltz to end, to scream out I didn’t want to fight, I didn’t want to lose him, but I was silent, unable to voice my fears as he held me in his arms and we moved to the music.
Rating; PG
Pairing; Ron/Draco
Prompt; 013. Waltz
Prompt set; 50.3
Word Count; 376
Summary; ' Our relationship was a dance, an intricate waltz where we had to put our feet in certain steps to ensure the happiness we felt beneath the surface would continue. '
Warnings; angst, drug use
Disclaimer; This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N; This is written for my 100quills prompt of Ron/Draco.
A/N; Title is from the Elton John song 'Tiny Dancer'.
Tiny Dancers
by; Mack
Our relationship was a dance, an intricate waltz where we had to put our feet in certain steps to ensure the happiness we felt beneath the surface would continue. If we put a foot in the wrong place a line was crossed and a fight would begin. We would scream at each other into the still of the night over nothing at all and something important at the same time.
One of us was bound to leave, and it was usually him. I would watch as his broad shoulders walk through the door, the red hair I loved so much disappearing into the night as the door closed and he went to where he usually went.
Only then would I allow myself to cry, collapse on the floor unable to hold the fear that this time it was permanent, that he wouldn’t come back. It would drive me to drink, to drugs, to smoke all through the night, moving closer and closer to that sweet oblivion that I so desperately wanted.
I would black out, collapsed on the floor unable to hold myself up as I cradled the bottle to me, the needle still in my arm, and the lighter on the floor, tears on my face as I blanked out and there would be no more pain, nothing.
I would wake and I would be in his arms one more, he came back once more to me. Sorrow and worry on his face as he sat by my bed, by the hospital bed, by the toilet holding my hand as he had his own tears in his eyes threatening to spill down.
“Don’t leave, please don’t leave me,” he would whisper whenever he thought I was asleep and I could only think the same thing to him.
I would be released and the entire dance would begin again, a never ending waltz of pain and love, torment and happiness, wishing it would end and at the same time never wanting it to end.
I wanted this waltz to end, to scream out I didn’t want to fight, I didn’t want to lose him, but I was silent, unable to voice my fears as he held me in his arms and we moved to the music.