FIC: The Most Frustrating Thing
Title: The Most Frustrating Thing
Author: alley_skywalker
Pairing: Blaise/Pansy/Draco
Rating: PG
Prompt: 132. You love her but she loves him
Content Information/Warnings: none
Summary: Blaise has been infatuated with Pansy forever, but she is far too in love with Draco to even notice.
Blaise isn’t someone to lack self-confidence. In fact, he’s pretty damn sure he could have any girl in the school he wanted. Even that feisty, silly Gryffindor blood-traitor who follows after Potter, the only really memorable thing about her - her ass and her bright red hair. Blaise could have her if he tried. He could even have Lovegood, he would find a way to get to her, using her out-of-hand imagination against her. He could have Hannah of Hufflepuff because she is vulnerable, and although Daphne Greengrass is nowhere that naïve, she is also far more interested. Sure, he could have any girl in the school.
Except for the one he really wants.
It’s not even that Pansy is betrothed - that hasn’t stopped Blaise before - and it’s not that he values his friendship with Draco - he doesn’t. Malfoy doesn’t scare his either. It’s the simple, infuriating fact that Pansy simply does not want him and will never want him while Draco is around. She’s in love in a way that Blaise has rarely see a girl their age be in love. Although, he could probably get Parkinson in bed, she’s Slytherin enough to go for the fun, but the problem is that that’s no really what he wants. Or, well, not the only thing he wants.
It’s strange to fancy Pansy so much. She’s not really that unattractive but there’s nothing especially remarkable about her. She likes to wear her hair short and there’s something slightly compressed and flat about her facial features. Her eyes are lovely - dark and emotive - but her cheeks stick out just enough to cave them in. She’s thin but short and her breasts are small mounds rather than plentiful hills. She’s lithe when she dances and walks, but not a single lady-like thing comes out when she opens her mouth. She is the last girl Blaise would expect to like, but he’d been in love with her since he hit puberty.
He can’t understand what she sees in Malfoy. Sure, he’s attractive and Pureblooded and rich, but so is Blaise. Yet, Pansy has only had sharp, teasing words for him, hardly a friendship. He could sneer at her if Pansy bothered to look down on him, but she seems perfectly indifferent. She makes jokes about how he breaks hundreds of female hearts a year, all the while clinging to Draco’s arm.
After the war, the Zabinis host the first real society ball, although Blaise could not remember a time when his mother cared to host such occasions and he didn’t think he would care much for it either. But something about seeing Pansy in a gown really excites him. She is rarely very feminine. Pansy enjoys a harsh word, a good fly on a new broom, and a stinging hex to shut up someone she finds annoying. To see her dancing in a silky, white-and-green gown makes it very hard for Blaise to not stare. He is forced to hide behind his glass of Italian read wine.
“Not dancing?” Pansy asks coming over, her cheeks flushed bright pink from the dancing.
“Quadrilles,” Blaise drawls, rolling his eyes. “Too much skipping.”
Pansy smirks and steals his wine glass. “Well, I like them fine.” She takes a long drink and hands the glass back to him.
Blaise allows his eyes to slide stealthily over her profile, lingering on her half-bared shoulders, her waist, and the flouting tip of her gown, from under which peek out two shoe noses and a small slither of ankle as Pansy taps her foot to the playing song.
“Dance the Viennese with me?” Blaise offers as the dance ends.
“I can’t,” Pansy says, stepping away from him. “I’ve promised the waltzes to Draco.” She throws him a smile and floats off to find her fiancé.
Blaise continues to sip at his wine and watches as Malfoy spins her around the dance floor. Blaise doesn’t know what Pansy sees in Draco or, for that matter, what he, Blaise, sees in Pansy. All he knows is that he wants her but she wants Malfoy.
Which is the most frustrating thing in the world.
Author: alley_skywalker
Pairing: Blaise/Pansy/Draco
Rating: PG
Prompt: 132. You love her but she loves him
Content Information/Warnings: none
Summary: Blaise has been infatuated with Pansy forever, but she is far too in love with Draco to even notice.
Blaise isn’t someone to lack self-confidence. In fact, he’s pretty damn sure he could have any girl in the school he wanted. Even that feisty, silly Gryffindor blood-traitor who follows after Potter, the only really memorable thing about her - her ass and her bright red hair. Blaise could have her if he tried. He could even have Lovegood, he would find a way to get to her, using her out-of-hand imagination against her. He could have Hannah of Hufflepuff because she is vulnerable, and although Daphne Greengrass is nowhere that naïve, she is also far more interested. Sure, he could have any girl in the school.
Except for the one he really wants.
It’s not even that Pansy is betrothed - that hasn’t stopped Blaise before - and it’s not that he values his friendship with Draco - he doesn’t. Malfoy doesn’t scare his either. It’s the simple, infuriating fact that Pansy simply does not want him and will never want him while Draco is around. She’s in love in a way that Blaise has rarely see a girl their age be in love. Although, he could probably get Parkinson in bed, she’s Slytherin enough to go for the fun, but the problem is that that’s no really what he wants. Or, well, not the only thing he wants.
It’s strange to fancy Pansy so much. She’s not really that unattractive but there’s nothing especially remarkable about her. She likes to wear her hair short and there’s something slightly compressed and flat about her facial features. Her eyes are lovely - dark and emotive - but her cheeks stick out just enough to cave them in. She’s thin but short and her breasts are small mounds rather than plentiful hills. She’s lithe when she dances and walks, but not a single lady-like thing comes out when she opens her mouth. She is the last girl Blaise would expect to like, but he’d been in love with her since he hit puberty.
He can’t understand what she sees in Malfoy. Sure, he’s attractive and Pureblooded and rich, but so is Blaise. Yet, Pansy has only had sharp, teasing words for him, hardly a friendship. He could sneer at her if Pansy bothered to look down on him, but she seems perfectly indifferent. She makes jokes about how he breaks hundreds of female hearts a year, all the while clinging to Draco’s arm.
After the war, the Zabinis host the first real society ball, although Blaise could not remember a time when his mother cared to host such occasions and he didn’t think he would care much for it either. But something about seeing Pansy in a gown really excites him. She is rarely very feminine. Pansy enjoys a harsh word, a good fly on a new broom, and a stinging hex to shut up someone she finds annoying. To see her dancing in a silky, white-and-green gown makes it very hard for Blaise to not stare. He is forced to hide behind his glass of Italian read wine.
“Not dancing?” Pansy asks coming over, her cheeks flushed bright pink from the dancing.
“Quadrilles,” Blaise drawls, rolling his eyes. “Too much skipping.”
Pansy smirks and steals his wine glass. “Well, I like them fine.” She takes a long drink and hands the glass back to him.
Blaise allows his eyes to slide stealthily over her profile, lingering on her half-bared shoulders, her waist, and the flouting tip of her gown, from under which peek out two shoe noses and a small slither of ankle as Pansy taps her foot to the playing song.
“Dance the Viennese with me?” Blaise offers as the dance ends.
“I can’t,” Pansy says, stepping away from him. “I’ve promised the waltzes to Draco.” She throws him a smile and floats off to find her fiancé.
Blaise continues to sip at his wine and watches as Malfoy spins her around the dance floor. Blaise doesn’t know what Pansy sees in Draco or, for that matter, what he, Blaise, sees in Pansy. All he knows is that he wants her but she wants Malfoy.
Which is the most frustrating thing in the world.