Disclaimer: Me owny nothingy.
Expect something about Dominique soon.
the beauty of our nonsensical relationship
-These days, he's rethinking the love thing.
( blaise & parvati )
Every time he watches her walk away, he gets the stupid feeling in his stomach and senses some sort of odd beating in his chest (It can't be a heart... He's never had a heart) and gets the slightest bit of spinning in his mind. Confusion fills his cheeks and his eyes become dazed and everything is orbiting her, everything.
(Secret number one: he loves this feeling.)
She's babbling on and on and on about the labyrinth that is the teenage girl's mind and GodGodGod he is going to Avada Kedavra himself if he has to listen for one more minute about eyeshadows charmed to change color according to mood.
"Must you talk every single second, Patil?" he growls suddenly, interrupting her speech, and then claws at the empty space when she pulls away abruptly from her previous spot laying across his chest. (Being without her hurts.
Parvati stands on her knees and puts her hands on her hips. "Well, if I didn't fill up all this damned silence that you insist on providing, then all we'd ever be was shag-mates, Zabini, and if that's really all you want then tell me now because I will leave and you will have the very last pleasure of watching my bum walk out of this room and that will be it for us."
He sits there, leaning against the cold wall, mouth hanging open. "By all means, ramble freely," he says finally, void of any emotion on his face, silent but deadly. But inside everything is racing at the thought of losing her, and the feeling of wrapping his arms back around her as she moves onto lip gloss is too fantastic to bear. He does admit that he'd probably go crazy with all the quiet that surrounds him.
(Secret number two: he loves her voice.)
She is such a goddamned Gryffindor as he wakes up to the feeling of weight on his knees, almost letting out a screech to find her sitting there on his silver bedsheets in an oh-so-torturously thin nightgown and her hair loose, wildly waving around her tanned face. "Surprise," she whispers, looking like a ghost in the twilight.
"Are you mad, woman?" he mutters back at her, but tugs her closer and tucks the covers over both of them anyway, feeling comfortably uncomfortable squished together impossibly. "What if the others wake up?"
Parvati giggles and he places his hand over her mouth to muffle the sound. "Oh, puh-lease. I can be quiet when I want. I just wanted to see what your bedroom looks like." She sits up, leaning against him, and grips the duvet, pretending to look at it curiously. "Nice blankets. Very classy."
"You are such a tease, you stupid Gryffindor," he growls under his breath, and presses his lips against hers.
He vaguely thinks he hears her mumble, "And you're wonderful, you idiotic Slytherin," before she intoxicates him and everything is back to her and those brown eyes.
(Secret number three: he loves her courage.)
"Do you really think that Theo and Daphne Greengrass are already engaged?" Parvati gushes curiously. "That would be so sweet, even if they're awful young. Daphne is so lucky. Theo is the only friend of yours I like."
"It's too bad I can't say that about Lavender," Blaise teases, and she swats at him with a bangle-covered hand, rolling her eyes. "I dunno. I wouldn't put it past him. Theo is so over the moon with that girl, the po0r bloke."
Parvati frowns and curls into him, putting her head against his shoulder. "Poor? I think it's romantic. They're in love!"
He runs a hand through cropped black hair and sighs. "Love is a myth."
"Oh, shut it, you cynical Slytherin," the girl grumbles, and then presses her lips against his collarbone. "Believe in love yet, Blaise?" she breathes, and he shivers at the feeling of her warm breath against his neck.
Gulping, he shakes his head. "Nope."
She sucks at the skin and brushes her lips across his neck, reaching his jaw. He closes his eyes and gasps. "Now?"
Eyes still closed, he mumbles, "Resolve crumbling."
Carefully, she places butterfly kisses all across his cheek before stopping a centimeter before reaching his lips. "Are you capable of love now, Mr. Zabini?" she whispers, and he opens his eyes, black meeting brown.
"Rethinking it," he murmurs, and leans in to meet her halfway.
(Secret number four: he loves to think that they'll be the ones engaged someday.)
It's late at night, way past curfew, but the beauty of her is too much to pass up, even at the risk of detention with Filch. She's standing out by the lake, looking like impossibility with her arms wide open like wings, spinning around. Her hair, free of its usual braided restrictions, spins with her like a curtain of onyx. The moon illuminates the shimmer of the water's surface and with her against the background, in a white dress and her red and yellow scarf, he reluctantly concludes he's developed a heart.
"This is amazing," she declares loudly, the thunder clapping above her and nearly drowning out her voice.
"It's just rain," he replies, but steps closer to her anyway, careful and cautious. "You'll catch your death out here, 'Vati," he warns, but she ignores him, turning around to face the lake.
As soon as he is about a foot behind her she falls, his arms instinctively coming out to catch her, and for a second fear takes over, but it surrenders its hold when she clings to him and wraps her legs around his waist, kissing him fiercely. "You're fantastic," she whispers, lightning dangerously close. "But I'm afraid..."
This is too good to be true, the snake inside him reminds. But he throws everything away for her. "It's okay," he mumbles back hoarsely. "I am, too."
"I love you," she confesses finally, and then plunges her lips against his furiously before giving him a chance to respond.
"Someday," he says against her skin, tasting the rainwater. "I promise you."
(Secret number five: he loves her.)