Title: A Love Story (Sort Of)
Summary: "I hate you." "Rot in hell." – Whoever said that love stories need to make sense? Not that they have a love story. Because they don't. Not really. (Only sort of.)
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The song belongs to Kelly Clarkson.
Warnings: Language, slight sexual reference, AU post fifth year or something.
Maybe I was stupid for telling you goodbye
Maybe I was wrong for trying to pick a fight
I know that I've got issues
But you're pretty messed up too
Once upon a time, hidden in the depths of Britain, there was a school called Hogwarts for students gifted with magic. In the school was a bright witch named Hermione Granger, and an arrogant wizard named Draco Malfoy. Hermione was one of Hogwart's prides and joys – very few could claim to be as brilliant as she. Draco was one of the wealthiest in all of Britain – even fewer could trace their Wizarding bloodline as far back as he. This is their story – a story of love, passion, romance.
Well, sort of.
Everyone knew that the relationship between Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy was less than pleasant, and with good reason. Hermione was one of the Gryffindor House's prides – not only was she the brightest witch of her generation, but she was also a loyal friend of Harry Potter himself. Draco was the complete opposite, of course. If one were to look up "arrogant" and "prejudice" they would find a picture of the young blonde boy. The only heir to the Malfoy line, he was the prince of Slytherin. Only a fool would imagine that they could be anything above civilized (and even that had its doubts) to each other.
So when rumour spread that the two had been caught snogging in a broom closet after curfew, Hermione thought nothing of it. It was simply a rumour and, after all, she deserved more credit than that, right?
At the bottom of the stairs that lead of the girl's dormitory stood a very upset Harry and Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes at the boys and tried to ignore the stares from their fellow Gryffindors. Knowing it was better to put a stop to whatever they were plotting now, she stopped in front of the two.
"What is it, Ronald?" She asked, crossing her arms.
"Is it true?"
"Is what true?"
"Calm down, Ron. I'm sure Hermione has a perfectly good explanation." Harry said, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than the other wizard.
"A perfectly good explanation to what?" She tapped her foot, getting impatient. It was her turn to patrol the halls and she was going to be late if she didn't leave soon.
"Dean said that he heard from Seamus, who heard from Lavender, who heard from a Ravenclaw, that a third year caught you snogging Malfoy!"
"Oh, is that all?"
"What do you mean 'is that all'?"
Hermione noticed that all of the Common Room was watching them now and rolled her eyes. "You don't believe that rubbish, do you?" The guilt on their faces showed that they obviously had. "Honestly, you two. We're talking about Malfoy – Draco Malfoy," she crinkled her nose, "and me?"
Harry cracked a (guilty) smile. "I suppose you're right."
"Yeah, it is a bit absurd."
"A bit?" Hermione snorted.
"Alright, it's completely mad."
"Thank you." She shook her head. "Now is that all? Because if you two don't mind, I do have Head duties to perform." At some point, the two had ended up between her and the exit.
The two shuffled out of her way, allowing her to pass. She vaguely heard Harry calling out an apology before the portrait closed behind her and Hermione bit her lip, because that had (sort of) been too easy.
Draco Malfoy was, for once, minding his own business. He wasn't lecturing some first year about his family's name and how he could ruin them if they dared to disobey him, or plotting some way to piss Potter and-or Weasel off, or anything of the such. He was simply sitting in the Common Room, working on his Charm's essay that wasn't due for another three weeks, because he was determined to get the highest grade this time. But fate, of course, could not let this happen, and he soon found himself with a lap full of blonde Slytherin.
"Draco, just the wizard I was looking for."
He raised a brow at her. "And why exactly is that, Astoria?"
She fluttered her eyes at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, and he fought the urge to roll his eyes. Astoria Greengrass was never one for subtlety. "I just heard the most absurd rumor. Completely awful really, no creativity or believability at all. Whoever started it was clearly mad."
"And while I'm sure this story is fascinating, does it have a point?" Draco asked, beginning to lose his patience. She had already interrupted his thought process on his essay and if she didn't hurry up he was going to be late for patrolling the halls.
Her eyes narrowed at him. "You snogged Granger." Not a question, an accusation.
Draco fought the urge to roll his eyes. He had heard bits of the rumour during the day, but he had been sure that no one with any sense would actually believe it. (Not that they could doubt he could get her if he so wanted – he was Draco Malfoy after all.) Even Crabbe and Goyle hadn't thought to ask him about it, and Merlin knew they were certainly missing something. (But he supposed that might have been because they were worried about how he would react more than anything else.) Yet he wasn't surprised to hear it coming from Astoria.
Now there were two ways that Draco could go about this. He could be kind and tell her that it was simply (and utterly ridiculous) rubbish and that Snape would sooner dress in colour than he would be caught snogging Hermione Granger. This way Astoria could continue to throwing herself at him under the delusion that they were together. Or he could be an arse and tell her it was true (because she was mad enough to believe it to begin with) and let her believe that he was interested in someone else and therefore, in some sorts, off limits.
"Answer me, Draco!"
Being kind was vastly over rated.
"Why Astoria, don't tell me that you didn't know?" He gave her a charming smile. "Granger and I have been together for weeks now. She just couldn't keep her hands off of me, you know? Can't say that I blame her."
Astoria was off his lap faster than Weasel would have been on a galleon. "What?"
Draco shrugged. "How was I to know you didn't know?"
Her eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms over her chest. "You're lying."
He smirked. "Am I now?" She didn't answer him – couldn't answer him, because she wasn't sure he was. It was amusing in a pathetic sort of way. "Now," He glanced at the clock and closed his book (the pages slightly crinkled from Astoria's arse being on them). "If you don't mind, I do have Head duties to perform."
When Draco slipped out the of the Dungeon doors, he was (sort of) disappointed with how uncomplicatedly easy the whole bit had been.
He sometimes wondered the whole point of wondering the halls. No one was bloody stupid enough to be out without a pass once the Heads had been selected this year – Hermione Granger was far too serious about the rules and Draco was simply an arse who used any excuse to torment others – and the students quickly learned to not be wondering the corridors after hours. And while he did not mind the silence some nights, mostly it was bloody boring.
Now usually he could find some entertainment out of his fellow Head (because, as already stated, he was an arse and what arse didn't enjoy a good quarrel?) and most nights he could (subtly, of course – he wasn't a savage like Potter or Weasel) provoke her, but on this particular night she was utterly unresponsive. Draco, of course, being the spoiled bloke he was, could not let this be. The trick was, however, to do so without letting her know. He was, after all, Draco Malfoy and Draco Malfoy did not go parading around to get Mudbloods' attention – he had more class than that. (Class – that thing Potter and Weasel more often than not lacked.)
But before he even had the chance to begin plotting, she spoke. He was so disappointed by the anti-climaticness of it all that he entirely missed what it was that she said and she had to repeat herself.
"I said," She rolled her eyes, annoyed that she had to reiterate herself to him. Bloody wench should be grateful that he was bored enough to bothering listening to her in the first place. (Not that he had been scheming ways to get her attention moments before hand, because he hadn't. Not really. Only sort of.) "That Harry and Ron asked me the most absurd question today."
"And what exactly makes you think I bloody well care?"
"Because it involves you and you never pass up an opportunity to head about yourself." She explained the moment the words left his mouth. "And they actually had the nerve to ask me if those rumours going about us were true."
He thought she had far too much faith in the two idiots. Did she honestly expect otherwise? Anyone with half a brain cell would have seen that coming. He didn't bother hiding this from her either. "Besides," he continued before she could argue her Gryffindor loyalty rubbish. "Astoria asked me as well."
"That doesn't surprise me. She has been after you for some time now, hasn't she?"
He smirked. "Jealous, are we?"
He could practically hear her rolling her eyes. "Hardly."
Draco didn't believe her and his smirk grew. He could see the corners of her lips tugging downwards and he was willing to bed his wand that she was fighting a scowl. "I'm sure." He said. "What was it that you said to them?"
"Same as you, I imagine – that it is complete rubbish and that they are mad for thinking otherwise."
"Actually, I told her it was true."
Hermione didn't stop walking, but there was a slight falter in her step. "I'm sure you did."
Draco halted, glaring at her. "Are you calling me a liar, Granger?"
She stopped as well and shrugged. "I'm simply saying that your doing so would be rather out of character, don't you think?"
Actually, he had done it to be a prat and get Astoria off his bloody case. Besides, he highly doubted that anyone else would believe it to be true, seeing it for just that. "Told her we'd been together for a couple of weeks now." He shrugged. "I only told her the truth." The moment the words left his mouth, he knew he had made a mistake.
Hermione's brow furred together. "Is it the truth?"
Draco looked away from her and continued his walk. "Of course not." He paused. "Do you want it to be or something?" It was then that he realized she hadn't moved either. He turned back so that he was facing her.
"Are you," She stared at him for a moment. "Are you suggesting I be your girlfriend?"
"Of course not!" He snapped. He did not do relationships. Random snogs when he felt the need? Sure. But he was Draco Malfoy and Draco Malfoy after all and he did not commit to one witch. Not that he had snogged any other witches lately. In fact, he was finding their pursuits to be rather annoying. Not that he would ever say so, because he was, after all, Draco Malfoy and Draco Malfoy did not commit to one witch. Not really. "Why? Do you want to be or something?"
She didn't bat an eyelash. "Of course not."
"Why the bloody hell not?" He glared, already forgetting his mental ramble only moments ago.
"Why do you care?"
They glared at each other for a moment, before she finally shook her head. "This is ridiculous. Come on, we need to finish patrolling."
"I'll pass." He turned his back and began walking in the opposite direction.
"Malfoy." She hissed. "We can't leave."
"We aren't. I am." Draco ignored her calls. He wasn't in the mood to see her anymore.
Not that he wanted to see her in the first place, because he didn't. Nor had he actually expected her to say yes to his stupid comment. Not that he wanted her to. Because he didn't want her to be his girlfriend. Because he was Draco Malfoy and Draco Malfoy did not commit to just one girl.
And even if he did, it would not to be one like Granger. Because he did not find her strictness amusing, nor did he actually find her know-it-all behaviour was interesting. Because her insanely bushy hair was absolutely not growing on him, and he certainly was not beginning to realize how she might be one of the most attractive witches at Hogwarts. Not in the slightest. (Not really.)
(Only sort of.)
Hermione had had the morning from hell. Dealing with Harry and Ron's absurd antics? No problem. Helping said boys defeat the Dark Lord? Piece of cake. But both of which compared to the gruesome torture she had been put through by Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil the moment she had stepped into the Gryffindor Common Room the next morning.
"Just who we were looking for!"
Apparently Draco (the prat) had not been lying when he said that he told Astoria that the rumour was true. Because the news had somehow spread from Slytherin down to the hands of Lavender and Parvati that Hermione Granger was officially with Draco Malfoy. It took Hermione five minutes to convince (or at least show them that she was not sharing any information) that she had never said such a thing and that it was likely just an attempt from Malfoy to upset Harry and Ron.
Only to then have to explain the same story to said boys (honestly, was her word worth nothing now?) and convince them that she had not been lying to them the night before – she was not dating Draco Malfoy. (Because he had never asked her to be his girlfriend. Not that she would have said yes if he had. Because she certainly had no intention of dating such a prat. None at all. Really.)
Even then, however, constant whispers followed her throughout the day. ("Can you believe it?" "Granger and Malfoy? Who would have thought?" "I heard they're to marry in July!") Granted, they would scatter the moment she glared or opened her mouth the object, but it continued to follow her. And by the time she was in Arithmancy, Hermione was ready to dock House points to the next person who so much as even mentioned her and Draco in the same sentence. (Well, not really, as that would be a complete violation of her power as Head Girl, but the point was made.) She did, however, find some comfort in knowing that Draco was probably going through the same, if not worse (because if there was one thing more scandalous than Hermione fancying Draco, it was Draco fancying Hermione), torture as she.
"Padma," Hermione didn't glance up from her notes when she heard the chair besides her being occupied. "I wanted to ask you – "
"Guess again." An amused voice met her ears instead and her head up snapped up.
"What," Hermione hissed. "In Merlin's name do you think you are doing, Malfoy?"
He smirked. "Why, Granger, I am simply taking my seat."
"No, this is Padma's seat."
"I doubt that she will mind. She seems to have found another." He nodded to the side, where Padma was sitting beside a seventh year Hufflepuff boy. "And I rather happen to like this seat."
Hermione's eyes narrowed him. He had been acting strange since last night – first telling Astoria the rumours were true, leaving her to patrol alone, and now sitting beside her – it was as if he wanted everyone to know they were together. (Which they weren't. Because he hadn't asked her. Not really. Only sort of. And sort of was most definitely not appropriate given the situation.)
In the midst of the silence, Hermione noticed the hushed whispers and that the eyes of the class were on them. A frown tugged at her lips. His smirk grew. And suddenly she knew what he was playing at and she would have no part in it.
She stood (just because he refused to move did not mean she could not), when Professor Vector entered the room, not bothering to wait to get to the front of the room to begin her lecture. And the next thing Hermione knew, she was taking her seat next to an incredibly smug Draco Malfoy. (Which she did not enjoy in the slightest. Because she had no interest in being anywhere near him. None at all. Honestly.)
Draco slid a folded slip of parchment to her. She stared at it for a moment and out of the corner of her eye she noticed him subtly (which, really, wasn't very subtle at all. He gave himself far more credit than he really deserved) watching her, probably sizing her reaction.
Hermione turned her head back to her own parchment, taking her notes over Professor Vector's lecture. If it was a reaction he wanted, she certainly wasn't going to give it to him, which she was certain he wouldn't take very well to. Because if there was one thing in this world Hermione could rely on, it was that Draco Malfoy was a greedy, conniving, self-obsessed arse who could not bear to not have all attention on him.
Sure enough, he slid another piece of parchment to her.
She ignored him.
He began to cough insistently (which he knew she absolutely despised during a lecture).
She continued to ignore him, and any other annoying manners he attempted, until he "accidently" knocked his ink over and onto her notes.
"Mr. Malfoy!" Professor Vector snapped. "What has gotten into you today? Ten points from Slytherin. And take a seat elsewhere, away from Ms. Granger."
Draco scowled and gathered his belongings before moving across the room. And this time, it was Hermione's turn to smirk, because now, as far as everyone else could see, it was Draco Malfoy who came off as some sort of love sick fool. Hermione was simply the poor victim. Unfortunately, her victory did not last past the classroom.
"Did you see Granger?"
"Playing hard to get."
"She must really fancy Malfoy."
(Needless to say, they scurried the moment they caught sight of her glare.)
Hermione did not fancy Malfoy in any sort, shape, or form. Because she certainly did not find his arrogant behaviour intriguing, nor did she think his smirk was charming in some strange way. Because she did not find gray eyes attractive, and she most certainly did not think him to be handsome. Not in the slightest. (Not really.)
(Only sort of.)
By dinner, everyone in the school knew about Draco's stunt in Arithmancy (not that sitting beside someone could really be considered a stunt. At least not usually, but seeing as they were Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, an exception would be made) and by the next morning, rumours had already begun to circulate about how the two could have gotten together. (Not that they were really together – he had only just sat beside her, but as they were, again, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger and there were teenage girls present, there was bound to be an overreaction.) The Gryffindors, for the most part, thought nothing of them – Hermione had already denied it and her word was believed over his. The Slytherins thought it was just another way to annoy the Golden Trio (which, really, wasn't completely untrue). The Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs tended to just ignore the whole thing. But every few, there would be a group of girls who found the whole idea to be utterly romantic and by the week's end, three theories had been proposed.
Some thought that the whole thing had started in the Head's Quarters. Seeing as they were the Head Boy and Head Girl, they had plenty of them together in a shared living area. "It's ridiculous to think that two people can spend so much time together and not get close." (That she had found the sweet, kind little boy buried deep in him; that he had brought out the rebellious side from within her.) However, this rumour did not last long as the Heads' rooms were attached to their Houses' common rooms, instead of to each other's, for that very reason.
Others thought it was some freak love Potion accident. That Hermione had conjured up a powerful batch to slip into Harry's (or Ron's, it depended on the version) drinks, but the House Elf given the orders (furious with her attempts to pay him) had messed up and Draco had gotten it instead. Or that Ron (or Harry, depending on the version) had attempted to brew one, but missed a step so that the Potion actually affected the first person she saw, rather than the brewer, who that day just so happened to be Draco. This rumour died down once it was pointed out that it wouldn't explain how it affected both. (Someone did say something about the possibility of two potions, but it was quickly shot down. One love potion was romantic, two was just mad.)
The most horrid of them all was the current – the marriage law. That the Malfoy Family had heard from their connections in the Ministry that there was going to be a law passed that would require Purebloods to marry Muggleborns or Half Bloods. (Which really, wasn't that just as ridiculous as parents trying to force their children to marry other Purebloods?) And the Malfoys (rather than fighting it, as one would expect) decided to take advantage of the law and use it to better their name, and who better to do that than the brightest (and most famous Muggleborn) witch of their age? Hermione, in turn, would have unlimited access to the Malfoy fortune and resources (not to mention infuriate Ron, who had again chosen Lavender over her). It had yet to be replaced by an even more horrid rumour.
But neither Draco nor Hermione did much to stop the rumours, because as ridiculous as they were, they were far better than the truth.
No one needed to know that there really was no story behind the whole thing, at least not one worth telling. That some third year Slytherin had run into them after a detention and asked Draco a question about his Charms homework. Hermione, of course, had disagreed with his answer and an argument had arisen. (The third year wisely took off when he realized this.) And as they were Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy, their argument eventually strayed to other topics, which (because no one was there to keep peace) eventually led to petty insults (the ones she would usually scold Harry or Ron for making – the type she was usually above, but this was an exception).
"I hate you."
"Go to hell."
He had glared and she, not one to back down, had glared back. Cold grey eyes met the hard chocolate ones… and the next thing they knew, they were snogging in a broom closet. They had both run off afterwards, pretending like the whole thing never happened. But somehow, it repeated itself again... and again…and again.
Which was pretty much it. It was neither very romantic nor very entertaining. Not very logical either. (Actually, considering who they were, it didn't even make any bloody sense!) But then again, whoever said love stories needed to make sense?
Not that they have a love story. Because they don't. Not really.
(Only sort of.)
One morning, after nearly a week and a half had passed in normalcy (well, as normal as things could be, considering all the rumours about her and Draco wondering around), Hermione looked up from her copy of The Prophet at the sound of Ron's choking. Luckily Dean slapped him on the back and it only took Ron a few moments from there to calm him coughing down.
"Bloody Slytherins. They'll be the death of me." He mumbled.
"What are you talking about?"
"Malfoy apparently has a new witch." Harry answered for him.
Hermione was only looking out of curiosity, really. (She certainly wasn't jealous, because it wasn't as if she and Draco had actually been really together. Not that she had thought they were sort of together. Because they obviously weren't.) But she almost laughed when she turned to find Draco with Astoria Greengrass planted on his lap. (Did the she never learn?) Her amusement, however, died when he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her closer to him.
"Ugh." Ron pushed his plate away. "I've lost my appetite."
"I don't know. They sort of match well together, don't you think?"
"Ginny." Hermione hadn't even realized she had practically hissed until her friends were staring at her.
"She does have a point 'Mione." Ron said, swallowing a sausage (as the loss of his appetite was apparently only temporary). "Any witch that would want Malfoy has to be bloody mad."
"That's a horrid thing to say."
"Draaaaaco." Greengrass whined from across the Great Hall.
"You have to admit he has a point, Hermione. What sane witch would possibly want Malfo – Hermione? What are you doing?"
It wasn't that she was getting up because she was finally getting tired of this stupid game with Draco. She was only doing it to prove to her friends that she was, in fact, quite sane. Not that she wanted him, because she certainly didn't. Because she most certainly wasn't missing him or snogging him. Even though he was remarkably good at kissing. Not that it mattered, because she was only doing this to prove a point. It had absolutely nothing to do with him.
(Well, maybe sort of.)
Draco really had no idea what the fuck Astoria was talking about – not that it really mattered, because he was pretty sure she could have a conversation with a mirror (probably did, now that he thought about it) – or why she was sitting on his lap again (what was he? her bloody chair?). He was more focused on Hermione's reaction on the other side of the Grand Hall (not that anybody could tell, of course. He was Draco Malfoy and he did have an image to keep up. He couldn't be seen watching a random girl like some lovesick fool. He wasn't Potter or Weasel for Merlin's sake) and smirked when she looked up and scowled.
Good. She deserved to be jealous after turning him down the way she had.
Not that he really asked her. Because he didn't.
(Only sort of.)
"Draaaaaco." Greengrass whined like a child and it took all his will to not roll his eyes at her. "Are you even listening to me?"
Of course not. What makes you think I bloody would?
Not that he would actually say it, because then she would get all mad and pouty and leave which would have been great if Hermione wasn't watching. Or worse, she would start yelling at him while Hermione was watching. Not that it matter that she was watching, because she wasn't his girlfriend. Not that he wanted her to be. Not really.
He opened his mouth to tell her he was listening when a cough behind Astoria stopped him. He looked passed her to find an annoyed Hermione with her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed. Had he not been so surprised to find her there, he would have been even more amused.
"What is it, Granger? Can't you see we were busy? Don't they teach you manners in Gryffindor?" Astoria slid her arms around his neck.
Hermione's eyes narrowed even more. "Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing."
"What in Merlin's name are you talking about?" Astoria's tone clearly showed that she didn't care.
"Would you," A smirk tugged at Hermione's lips and Draco sort of felt sorry for Astoria. Sort of. (But not really.) "Kindly remove yourself from my boyfriend's lap?"
Astoria stared at her for a moment, her eyes wide and her mouth open. And, once again, she was once off of his lap faster than Weasel would have been on a galleon. "You're lying."
"Are you certain?" Hermione was still smirking (and it was incredibly difficult to focus on Astoria's reaction when she did that).
Draco expected Hermione to refuse, to insist that her word (and his lack of denial thus far) was far more than enough evidence. He expected her to ramble in some Granger-esc way that made her think she had won, when, in fact, no one else would see it that way. What he didn't expect, however, was for her to lean down and kiss him.
And it wasn't that he had suddenly forgotten that they were supposed to be having some sort of spat and that he was supposed to be mad at her; nor had he forgotten that they were snogging in the middle of the Great Hall and that everyone was watching them. But it had been quite some time since he and Hermione had snogged, and he was, after all, a teenaged wizard and he did have needs. And it had nothing to do with being tired of sneaking corners to snog her or that he was bloody well sick of this stupid game they had been playing it. And it certainly wasn't that he had missed her in the slightest. Because he hadn't. Because this was about him and his needs and it had absolutely nothing to do with her. Not in the slightest.
(Well, maybe sort of.)
When she pulled away from him, Hermione was still smirking (and it was certainly not taking all of his self control not to take her right then and there, Hogwarts be damned) and did not even bother to give the dumbfound Astoria a second glance. "Walk me to Ancient Ruins?"
That Draco was up and following her out the Great Hall was purely done for appearance's sake. (And also because Potter and Weasel looked as if they had just been petrified.) But that was it. Really. It had absolutely nothing to do with him actually wanting to walk with her. Because he was Draco Malfoy and Draco Malfoy did not enjoy walking witches (especially ones called Hermione Granger at that) to class. No, absolutely not. (Only sort of.)
They were half way to Ancient Ruins when Hermione's words suddenly absorbed. "Say Granger. What was it that you said back there?" He stopped his walk, causing her to as well, and a smirk tugged at his lips. "I'm your boyfriend now, am I?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Hardly. I was simply taking pity on you. Not even you deserve Greengrass going after you like that. Honestly, does she have no self respect?" She shook her head and began to walk again. "But I suppose that I could do you the favour and pretend it to be true."
And they lived happily ever after.
"Do me the favour? I'd be the one doing you the bloody favour!"
"What? How did you come up with that ridiculous idea?"
Well, sort of.
Being with you is so dysfunctional
I really shouldn't miss you
But I can't let you go
Because we belong together now
Forever united here somehow
My Life Would Suck Without You – Kelly Clarkson
Note: So here it is - my first REAL attempt at humor. (I did write two short humor pieces for Jing: King of Bandit section many years ago, but they were highly influenced by a Beta.) So how did I do?
I'm not really sure where this idea came from, but it was a couple of months before I left for Turkey; I wasn't even going to do it, but then Misery Business came on my playlist while I was thinking about it and I all but wrote the last Astoria scene in my head. But then on one of my last days in the States I heard My Life Would Suck Without You on the radio and it just evolved. After Curiosity, Need, Cinderella, and Prince Charming I wanted to try something a bit more humorous. Granted, humor is one of my weaker parts, so I thought it would be a good experiment. The plot is pretty simple and probably vastly overused, but who doesn't love a good cliché every once and a while?
I honestly enjoyed trying humor out and will definitely have to try it out again sometime.
Review, please. =]