Title: Sleep Gives No Mercy
Rating: PG
A/N: Just got back from a family vacation in Bangkok, so yeah, this is just some drabble I wrote when I finally got my hands back on a laptop. Enjoy.
The foreplay with Sweet Slumber is dreary.
She breathes heavily, made more exhausting by her sobs. Her eyes hurt, like oil aflame so mercilessly doused by water. But it won't stop. The tears still come pouring, and with it she bawls.
The stubborn flare of her spirit is snuffed out. Her face is gaunt - soaked with hot, salty tears. What she wants is simple: to succumb to the soft, numbing, embrace of Sleep. She tries her best, but all effort is futile.
It feels like she's falling to pieces. Damaged, in all sense of the word.
She twists and turns on her bed. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you," she cries.
She curses the honeyed words he so tantalizingly whispered to her ears. She swears on every single touch, and kiss, and caress. She persuades herself that she hates him.
But she knows it isn't true.
So she cries. And hopes that Slumber will take pity on her.
He was just so suave, so sarcastic, so hopelessly Malfoy. Why couldn't she see through his facade? Ron and Harry had warned her, but she didn't listen. She never listened.
It had felt so wonderful; to be pampered, and treated like a lady. And she had actually believed that there could be something more to the caring looks, and lavish gifts - but she was foolish.
She had loved him, and only him. It made her happy to think that they would last forever; till they were gray and old, with beautiful platinum blonde-haired grandchildren. And she was certain that he had loved her, too.
However, as it appears, he had other plans.
"I'm sorry, Hermione," he had said. "I love you, I do. But I really can't commit to you the way you expect me to." His brows had furrowed, tainting his immaculate face. "Aren't we happy? Can't we just enjoy this and make this last?"
That hurt her, it did. Her heart had felt worn-out, and oh, what she would give for him to just lie to her. Barely a whisper, she replied, "No."
"What you want, I can't give, Hermione."
And all her foreboding came true, pushing her to this state of pathetic misery.
She regrettably remembers each and every word he's spoken to her - and now all she wants is to forget. Forget that she had ever loved him, just so it won't hurt as much. Forget him if she can, though she knows she cannot.
But foremost, she wants to rest.
And eventually, Sweet Slumber does give in to Hermione's pleas.
However, her Sleep is nothing but pitiful; plagued with dreams of an aged Hermione, and an elderly Draco, playing with their beautiful blonde grandchildren.
A/N: Poor Hermione. You know what, I just realized that I haven't written anything with Draco and Hermione actually getting together in the end. Weird. Well anyway, though this may just be drabble, please tell me what you think and review!
