this doesn't feel like anything.
Title: --
Rating: PG?
Characters/pairing: Draco/Ginny
Word count: 400
Summary/notes: Written for challenge one at hp_expertus--spring rain, slight angst, wet clothes, Ginny/Draco.
It’s raining.
Ginny watches the droplets spatter Malfoy’s shoulder (the only part of him that will look her in the eye), darkening the fabric of his robes. She feels the cool of it on her face. She listens to the patter of the rain as it hits the stone against her back and the earth beneath her feet. She tries not to pay attention to his whispers. She attempts to ignore the hand light on her waist, the arm braced against the wall only inches to her right. Concentrate. Control. Concentrate. It's barely working.
She doesn’t listen or respond to whatever he might be saying. He has to get this out; she realizes this. Undo the damage (before she causes more). But she doesn’t have to listen.
His tone is pleading, enticing, hopeful. No matter what his words may be, his voice is telling her that he’ll do anything, be anything, to make her stay. He’s admitting that nothing (no prejudices no grudges no rivalries) is important anymore, so long as she stays. He’s asking her if she’s ashamed of him, because he isn’t ashamed of her (he isn’t, he isn’t).
He might be crying (why won’t he look at her?) as he asks her to say something. The hurt in his voice is just audible enough that she gives in.
"It’s raining," she says. (Detachedly, with finality.) "I should get back."
He stays in place (keeping her trapped) and she feels him collapse a little as his head hangs, his shoulders droop, and her meaning sinks in. She doesn’t want him anymore. He pulls away--and she finally sees why he wouldn’t make eye contact. His eyes are sunken, dark and sad and nothing like they were when they were last this close. He hasn’t slept. He hasn’t slept. He hasn’t slept, and she can hardly believe her eyes. He's so pathetic at that moment, sad eyes close to crying, wet hair plastered to his forehead, an expression of resigned disbelief darkening his features--she almost changes her mind. Almost.
Her eyes are wet, and it isn't the rain.
She attempts a smile (fails) and edges carefully past him. She wonders what to say, if there’s anything she can say. She thinks I’m sorry as hard as she can and hopes he hears it. She almost changes her mind. She walks into the rain, and she doesn’t look back.
"Concentrate. Control. Concentrate." is from TBS's "Error: Operator." I attempted to use parentheses in the manner I did in Doll, and hopefully accomplished something there. Concrit would be lovely, as I haven't written fanfiction for a few months now. There'll be companion art in b_b_ig_mistake soon.
Rating: PG?
Characters/pairing: Draco/Ginny
Word count: 400
Summary/notes: Written for challenge one at hp_expertus--spring rain, slight angst, wet clothes, Ginny/Draco.
It’s raining.
Ginny watches the droplets spatter Malfoy’s shoulder (the only part of him that will look her in the eye), darkening the fabric of his robes. She feels the cool of it on her face. She listens to the patter of the rain as it hits the stone against her back and the earth beneath her feet. She tries not to pay attention to his whispers. She attempts to ignore the hand light on her waist, the arm braced against the wall only inches to her right. Concentrate. Control. Concentrate. It's barely working.
She doesn’t listen or respond to whatever he might be saying. He has to get this out; she realizes this. Undo the damage (before she causes more). But she doesn’t have to listen.
His tone is pleading, enticing, hopeful. No matter what his words may be, his voice is telling her that he’ll do anything, be anything, to make her stay. He’s admitting that nothing (no prejudices no grudges no rivalries) is important anymore, so long as she stays. He’s asking her if she’s ashamed of him, because he isn’t ashamed of her (he isn’t, he isn’t).
He might be crying (why won’t he look at her?) as he asks her to say something. The hurt in his voice is just audible enough that she gives in.
"It’s raining," she says. (Detachedly, with finality.) "I should get back."
He stays in place (keeping her trapped) and she feels him collapse a little as his head hangs, his shoulders droop, and her meaning sinks in. She doesn’t want him anymore. He pulls away--and she finally sees why he wouldn’t make eye contact. His eyes are sunken, dark and sad and nothing like they were when they were last this close. He hasn’t slept. He hasn’t slept. He hasn’t slept, and she can hardly believe her eyes. He's so pathetic at that moment, sad eyes close to crying, wet hair plastered to his forehead, an expression of resigned disbelief darkening his features--she almost changes her mind. Almost.
Her eyes are wet, and it isn't the rain.
She attempts a smile (fails) and edges carefully past him. She wonders what to say, if there’s anything she can say. She thinks I’m sorry as hard as she can and hopes he hears it. She almost changes her mind. She walks into the rain, and she doesn’t look back.
"Concentrate. Control. Concentrate." is from TBS's "Error: Operator." I attempted to use parentheses in the manner I did in Doll, and hopefully accomplished something there. Concrit would be lovely, as I haven't written fanfiction for a few months now. There'll be companion art in b_b_ig_mistake soon.