[Fic]: Mistakes
Category: Harry Potter
Written By: Mello McQueen
Summary: Sometimes he makes mistakes. Sometimes she notices them. And sometimes, enough is enough.
Genre: Angst
Characters/Pairings: Ginny, Harry, Draco. Ginny/Harry, Harry/Draco.
Authoress Notes: Prompt given to me by Alex-wa, whom I love and adore because she always believes I can do things, even when I don't. She's also usually right. written at: 3:11 AM. January 26, 2009. Word count: 533.
Mistakes
Sometimes, Harry makes mistakes, and sometimes Ginny notices them. Like she notices them tonight, as he creeps into their bedroom, with a disheveled look about him. Lying on the bed, in the dark, she watches him move across the room. He pulls his shirt over his head, and shrugs his jeans off so that he’s standing in his boxers.
Ginny tries not to notice how the button and zipper are already undone and is silent as he slides in carefully beside her, shifting to get comfortable, but careful not to come anywhere near touching her. It makes her body tense, and she fights to keep her posture lax, her breathing even.
Calloused fingers run through her hair, and she tries not to sob as he leans over and kisses her temple and whispers: “It doesn’t mean anything, Ginny. He doesn’t mean anything.” But after he falls asleep, she lies awake and listens to him, talking in his sleep.
Reliving precious moments through vivid dreams. Sighing, gasping, moaning, screaming, his name.
Draco! Draco! Draco!
Ginny chokes back a sob, and sits up slowly. She leans over and kisses him softly. He sighs-
Draco. . .
-and she pulls away. Shifting, she climbs out of bed, and moves silently across the room. . .
In the morning, Harry wakes with a start, the familiar ghost of a name on the tip of his tongue. With a groan, he rolls over to greet his wife, and blinks at the strangely empty space, and the blank envelope lying, propped up on the pillow beside him.
Removing his glasses from the bedside table, he sits up and carefully slides the letter out. Unfolding it, his eyes skim the words one, and then again and again and again, trying to take them in through the onset of tears.
As he curls up on the bed, the letter slides to the floor.
---
I could believe you if I wanted to, but I don’t.
Ginny.
End
Authoress Notes: Comments?
Written By: Mello McQueen
Summary: Sometimes he makes mistakes. Sometimes she notices them. And sometimes, enough is enough.
Genre: Angst
Characters/Pairings: Ginny, Harry, Draco. Ginny/Harry, Harry/Draco.
Authoress Notes: Prompt given to me by Alex-wa, whom I love and adore because she always believes I can do things, even when I don't. She's also usually right. written at: 3:11 AM. January 26, 2009. Word count: 533.
Mistakes
Sometimes, Harry makes mistakes, and sometimes Ginny notices them. Like she notices them tonight, as he creeps into their bedroom, with a disheveled look about him. Lying on the bed, in the dark, she watches him move across the room. He pulls his shirt over his head, and shrugs his jeans off so that he’s standing in his boxers.
Ginny tries not to notice how the button and zipper are already undone and is silent as he slides in carefully beside her, shifting to get comfortable, but careful not to come anywhere near touching her. It makes her body tense, and she fights to keep her posture lax, her breathing even.
Calloused fingers run through her hair, and she tries not to sob as he leans over and kisses her temple and whispers: “It doesn’t mean anything, Ginny. He doesn’t mean anything.” But after he falls asleep, she lies awake and listens to him, talking in his sleep.
Reliving precious moments through vivid dreams. Sighing, gasping, moaning, screaming, his name.
Draco! Draco! Draco!
Ginny chokes back a sob, and sits up slowly. She leans over and kisses him softly. He sighs-
Draco. . .
-and she pulls away. Shifting, she climbs out of bed, and moves silently across the room. . .
In the morning, Harry wakes with a start, the familiar ghost of a name on the tip of his tongue. With a groan, he rolls over to greet his wife, and blinks at the strangely empty space, and the blank envelope lying, propped up on the pillow beside him.
Removing his glasses from the bedside table, he sits up and carefully slides the letter out. Unfolding it, his eyes skim the words one, and then again and again and again, trying to take them in through the onset of tears.
As he curls up on the bed, the letter slides to the floor.
---
I could believe you if I wanted to, but I don’t.
Ginny.
End
Authoress Notes: Comments?