Leigh!fic | Love the Way You Lie (1/1) | Edward Carmichael/Pansy Parkinson
Title: Love the Way You Lie (1/1)
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Edward Carmichael/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 500
Summary: And if she kept the wall around her heart up, then he could never hurt her.
Author's Notes: This was written for this week's offering at hp_humpdrabbles.
Pansy had been born a liar.
From the day of her birth, both her mother and father had schooled her in the ways of duplicity. Lying came as naturally to her as breathing; she could spin half-truths (or no-truths) without batting an eyelash, and no one would be the wiser. It was her gift, as both a Slytherin and a Parkinson, to bend the truth to suit her will-or to discard the truth entirely.
She told lies to protect herself. If her enemies didn't know the truth, they couldn't hurt her. And if she kept the wall around her heart up, then he could never hurt her.
Edward.
Her infuriating faux corbeau. A Slytherin in Ravenclaw casings, he had a head for business and a tongue so silver it practically had been forged by goblins. Her friend. Her lover. And a man who freely admitted he thought love was a sham.
That was why she lied to him. That was why she held her heart to her chest and never let him know how she felt-that she was in love with him. Pansy knew what love was, had felt its sting before, and she did not intend to let him trample her like he'd done so many others in the past. It was hard to keep it bottled; there were nights they were together, when his hands were so deceptively gentle against her skin, that it took all she had not to cry it out as she came.
But she knew better. And she knew the loneliness would hurt worse than her lies.
So she lied.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Edward didn't believe in love.
It was a myth, a fabrication made up by silly girls to justify erratic behavior. Intelligent human beings were rational, capable of making decisions without relying on a "tingling feeling" in the pit of their stomach. Women had claimed they were in love with him, had said he'd behaved as if he'd returned the sentiment, but he laughed it off. He had never been in love, nor would he ever.
That was a lie.
He tried to pretend as if it were true. He was cool, calm, and collected, and he didn't need anyone else. He wanted her, but he didn't need her.
Pansy.
The girl with a diamond-hard shell who rarely let others see her petal-soft vulnerability. His Pansy, who he never intended to let leave his bed. They suited one another well, both in and out of the bedroom, but he didn't love her.
But when he would cup her naked body to his after finding their pleasure together, he couldn't ignore the tight feeling in his chest. When she pressed her lips against his shoulder, he pretended that it was part of the post-coital sensations making him feel possessive over her. It couldn't be love. Edward Carmichael didn’t fall in love.
He knew it would feel worse if he were alone without Pansy by his side. So he lied to himself, just as he always had.
As he always would.
Author: Leigh, aka leigh_adams
Characters: Edward Carmichael/Pansy Parkinson
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 500
Summary: And if she kept the wall around her heart up, then he could never hurt her.
Author's Notes: This was written for this week's offering at hp_humpdrabbles.
Pansy had been born a liar.
From the day of her birth, both her mother and father had schooled her in the ways of duplicity. Lying came as naturally to her as breathing; she could spin half-truths (or no-truths) without batting an eyelash, and no one would be the wiser. It was her gift, as both a Slytherin and a Parkinson, to bend the truth to suit her will-or to discard the truth entirely.
She told lies to protect herself. If her enemies didn't know the truth, they couldn't hurt her. And if she kept the wall around her heart up, then he could never hurt her.
Edward.
Her infuriating faux corbeau. A Slytherin in Ravenclaw casings, he had a head for business and a tongue so silver it practically had been forged by goblins. Her friend. Her lover. And a man who freely admitted he thought love was a sham.
That was why she lied to him. That was why she held her heart to her chest and never let him know how she felt-that she was in love with him. Pansy knew what love was, had felt its sting before, and she did not intend to let him trample her like he'd done so many others in the past. It was hard to keep it bottled; there were nights they were together, when his hands were so deceptively gentle against her skin, that it took all she had not to cry it out as she came.
But she knew better. And she knew the loneliness would hurt worse than her lies.
So she lied.
*~*~*~*~*~*
Edward didn't believe in love.
It was a myth, a fabrication made up by silly girls to justify erratic behavior. Intelligent human beings were rational, capable of making decisions without relying on a "tingling feeling" in the pit of their stomach. Women had claimed they were in love with him, had said he'd behaved as if he'd returned the sentiment, but he laughed it off. He had never been in love, nor would he ever.
That was a lie.
He tried to pretend as if it were true. He was cool, calm, and collected, and he didn't need anyone else. He wanted her, but he didn't need her.
Pansy.
The girl with a diamond-hard shell who rarely let others see her petal-soft vulnerability. His Pansy, who he never intended to let leave his bed. They suited one another well, both in and out of the bedroom, but he didn't love her.
But when he would cup her naked body to his after finding their pleasure together, he couldn't ignore the tight feeling in his chest. When she pressed her lips against his shoulder, he pretended that it was part of the post-coital sensations making him feel possessive over her. It couldn't be love. Edward Carmichael didn’t fall in love.
He knew it would feel worse if he were alone without Pansy by his side. So he lied to himself, just as he always had.
As he always would.