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Decided that I'm going to start posting my fics on here as well as FF.net.
They're not very good but I do enjoy writing them to free up some space in my head :p
Title: Empty Hearts and Firewhiskey
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): Draco/Hermione
Author: estrelle_peto / Dawnofthedusk
Rating: PG+
Summary: Whatever it is, it's certainly not love.
Find it here or under the cut.
A.N: A Draco/Hermione ficlet. Just go with it. It's AU. Feel free to ignore!
She is facing away from him, gently curled in on herself in an attempt to appear as small as possible. It didn't mean anything, she tells herself. And it's true. She wanted to forget everything. All of the hurt and fear she was still holding on to. It happened because she wanted to feel something. The firewhiskey helped, though. The heat that had blossomed in her chest when she downed glass after glass is gone now - all she's left with is the familiar numbness and cold. She tells herself it won't happen again but later when she dresses, shamefully turning away from him, he asks to meet her again. She turns in surprise to see him looking just as empty as she does and decides that she'll try anything to feel again.
So they meet again; in the same dingy pub, drinking the same alcohol to fog their minds and then apparate unsteadily to her flat. They fumble with zips and buttons, hungrily attacking each other in a haze of desperation and firewhiskey. After several hours he dresses silently and disapparates, and they both feel as alone as ever.
It continues like this for months, every time it's the exact same, though she's beginning to realise that she's needing less firewhiskey in her before she agrees.
Once she whispers 'I love you', just to try it out, to feel what it's like to say it, to see if she can say it.
"No. That's not what this is."
And he's right. Whatever it is, it's certainly not love. After several more weeks they've both realised that their firewhiskeys remain untouched but neither says anything; to admit it would ruin their mutual understanding and wordless agreement. By the time they start to skip meeting at the pub, she's beginning to realise that it hurts when he leaves her and though for the longest time she's wanted to feel, it's too painful and she wants out. She ends it and this time when he leaves, it is him who whispers 'I love you'.
They both drink alone now. The barman leaves the bottle. They're determined to feel numb again.
They're not very good but I do enjoy writing them to free up some space in my head :p
Title: Empty Hearts and Firewhiskey
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing(s): Draco/Hermione
Author: estrelle_peto / Dawnofthedusk
Rating: PG+
Summary: Whatever it is, it's certainly not love.
Find it here or under the cut.
A.N: A Draco/Hermione ficlet. Just go with it. It's AU. Feel free to ignore!
She is facing away from him, gently curled in on herself in an attempt to appear as small as possible. It didn't mean anything, she tells herself. And it's true. She wanted to forget everything. All of the hurt and fear she was still holding on to. It happened because she wanted to feel something. The firewhiskey helped, though. The heat that had blossomed in her chest when she downed glass after glass is gone now - all she's left with is the familiar numbness and cold. She tells herself it won't happen again but later when she dresses, shamefully turning away from him, he asks to meet her again. She turns in surprise to see him looking just as empty as she does and decides that she'll try anything to feel again.
So they meet again; in the same dingy pub, drinking the same alcohol to fog their minds and then apparate unsteadily to her flat. They fumble with zips and buttons, hungrily attacking each other in a haze of desperation and firewhiskey. After several hours he dresses silently and disapparates, and they both feel as alone as ever.
It continues like this for months, every time it's the exact same, though she's beginning to realise that she's needing less firewhiskey in her before she agrees.
Once she whispers 'I love you', just to try it out, to feel what it's like to say it, to see if she can say it.
"No. That's not what this is."
And he's right. Whatever it is, it's certainly not love. After several more weeks they've both realised that their firewhiskeys remain untouched but neither says anything; to admit it would ruin their mutual understanding and wordless agreement. By the time they start to skip meeting at the pub, she's beginning to realise that it hurts when he leaves her and though for the longest time she's wanted to feel, it's too painful and she wants out. She ends it and this time when he leaves, it is him who whispers 'I love you'.
They both drink alone now. The barman leaves the bottle. They're determined to feel numb again.