title: because it matters

words: 730

notes: this is for loveislouder94's john green appreciation competition.


"maybe there's something you're afraid to say,

or someone you're afraid to love,

or somewhere you're afraid to go.

it's gonna hurt. it's gonna hurt because it matters."

JOHN GREEN


"I can't keep doing this to you," he mutters, his hand cupping her face.

She smiles sadly before bringing her lips once again up to meet his. "I want you to," she says, watching his eyes turn to a dull gray color.

"Lucy, I can't. I can't do this to you. You're getting married for Christ's sake."

He steps away from her, glancing at the engagement ring on her finger. He's seen it so many times, usually when she takes if off of her left ring finger. She always does that every time she sees him to make it easier for herself, to make it feel a little less wrong, but he knows. Hell, he went with his brother to pick it out.

"I know." She slides her back down the wall and pulls her knees up to her chest. Her white dress has created a circle around her, ruffles from the bottom sweeping the carpet. She pulls the top up ungracefully, and runs her finger through her red hair.

"Lorcan loves you so much," he says quietly, after a minute. Lysander is sitting next to Lucy, his legs out in front of him.

"And I love him," she says in return. "It's just… you."

Lysander studies her carefully. "Me? I'm nothing special, Lucy."

"You are," she says, smiling slightly. "Maybe even more so than your brother."

Lysander has no idea how to respond to that, so he sighs. "I'm going to end up hurting you in the end. Maybe if I didn't matter so much to you and maybe if you actually cared about my brother… your fiancé. I mean… we've been doing this since Hogwarts and maybe… maybe it's time it was over. I don't… want you getting hurt."

"I'm not a kid, Lysander," she retorts, suddenly on her feet. "Get out of here, you don't need to be here. I need to get out of this damn dress anyway, and you're not going to be the one to take it off f me. Because that—" her voice cracks, and she sees his eyes widen. He knows what she's going to say. "That's Lorcan's job!"

So Lysander leaves in her room to take off her own damn wedding dress for the last time before the wedding, and part of him knew he needed to walk away, and part of him hates himself for walking out.


Lucy Weasley is alone. She is getting married in—she checks the clock on the wall—thirteen minutes and isn't quite sure what to do about the war in her head. She turns back to the mirror and purses her lips, applying her favorite red lipstick when she feels a hand on her shoulder.

"Lorcan, you're not supposed to—oh. Come to tell me again to stay away from you? Ironic, huh? You coming to tell me to stay away, when, in reality, I don't give a fuck about you?"

That's when she realizes she has made a mistake. Lysander looks slightly crestfallen, and Lucy drops her lipstick. "I'm… I—Lysander, I didn't mean that."

"Sure you didn't. Lucy, can't you see that I'm in love with you?"

That's when Lorcan walks in, and Lucy knows the other shoe is going to drop, because, well, she thinks she's in love with Lysander and not really in love with his brother.


Lucy takes off the wedding dress herself, seventeen minutes after she's given the ring back to Lorcan. She isn't sure what to do right now, because everyone she knows is waiting for her to come out and get married but that isn't going to happen anymore, is it?

She wonders why this hurts so much, because deep down she knows she never really loved Lorcan in the first place. It was Lysander all along, she thinks. Maybe since their Hogwarts days, but she was juvenile and a little rebellious back then and she didn't have a clue.

And in that moment, she knows that she is scared—petrified, even—because Lucy Weasley doesn't fall in love. Maybe she never has before, she's not too sure, but she is sure that she's in love with Lysander right now.

So this is what love is, she thinks bitterly. If this was some silly fairytale, Lysander would be here to comfort her, to sweep her off her feet, to whisper in her ear how much he loves her.

She waits.


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