Narcissa/Lily Drabble
FANDOM: HP
PAIRING: Lily/Narcissa
RATING: I'll keep it PG, because I'm fairly sure it's not entirely LJ-legal for a sixteen year old to write smut and post it.
Narcissa isn't mine, Lily thinks as she gazes over at the blonde head, a much better view than that of the Professor's face. Not when they steal kisses under a willow, where only the occasional fairy might see. Not when they lie on the dew-soaked grass and she plays with Narcissa's hair. Not when she wears a green t-shirt under her Gryffindor robes and secretly roots for the Slytherin Quidditch Team, so that Narcissa would...Narcissa would...
Not when Lily fetches dinner for Narcissa and attends to her with a little concerned frown on her face after the Gryffindors win the cup, instead of celebrating with her house-mates. Not even when Narcissa tells her she's pretty: she says it absently whilst doing her charms homework. Not when Lily mutters I love you into Narcissa's neck, and her only reply is a fond tug on her fringe, and a kiss bestowed quickly on her forehead.
Narcissa isn't mine, Lily thinks as the blonde head dips in acknowledgement of her gaze, then comes up with a smile. Lily finds herself smiling back.
No, Narcissa isn't mine. But I am hers.
PAIRING: Lily/Narcissa
RATING: I'll keep it PG, because I'm fairly sure it's not entirely LJ-legal for a sixteen year old to write smut and post it.
Narcissa isn't mine, Lily thinks as she gazes over at the blonde head, a much better view than that of the Professor's face. Not when they steal kisses under a willow, where only the occasional fairy might see. Not when they lie on the dew-soaked grass and she plays with Narcissa's hair. Not when she wears a green t-shirt under her Gryffindor robes and secretly roots for the Slytherin Quidditch Team, so that Narcissa would...Narcissa would...
Not when Lily fetches dinner for Narcissa and attends to her with a little concerned frown on her face after the Gryffindors win the cup, instead of celebrating with her house-mates. Not even when Narcissa tells her she's pretty: she says it absently whilst doing her charms homework. Not when Lily mutters I love you into Narcissa's neck, and her only reply is a fond tug on her fringe, and a kiss bestowed quickly on her forehead.
Narcissa isn't mine, Lily thinks as the blonde head dips in acknowledgement of her gaze, then comes up with a smile. Lily finds herself smiling back.
No, Narcissa isn't mine. But I am hers.