The force that draws me to him is magnetic.
He glares at me from across the room and I get lost in the lust that fills his mercury orbs.
Its inconceivable that I, the Weasly Princess, should want a Malfoy.
I want to stay away, but staying a away from him is like living without air.
I am drawn to him like a moth to the flame.
I cannot survive without him yet I don't know if I can survive with him.
When I am alone I hate
myself for this weakness.
I tell myself that next time I will be
stronger.
Then he looks at me.
When we are together I
am filled with passion.
Lust consumes my soul.
It is a fire
permeates my body with an unending flame.
We find each other late at night down in the deep twisted passages that lead nowhere.
I hate him.
I hate loving him.
I see him and I am
stricken.
He looks at me and I freeze.
It happens every time.
Never for long though.
I'm stronger than that.
We
circle each other like lions preparing to fight.
He speaks to me
in his low growly voice, a voice that makes my palms sweat.
How
can a voice do that?
I hate him, but I want him more than I
have wanted anything ever before.
He is the forbidden fruit.
I find myself pushed up against the wall, my body moving with his, his lips searing my flesh.
He intoxicates me.
My
eyes flutter and my body no longer responds to my brain.
I find my
lips melding with his, his tongue and mine, entwined.
All I want is all of him.
His hands travel my body awaking it to feelings that I only feel with him.
My own arms betray
me.
They are draped around his neck, pulling him closer to me and
becoming lost in his soft, sliver hair.
I long to be
closer to him.
Even the thin barrier of clothing is
unbearable to me.
He transports us to his bedroom.
I
barely notice the change.
I find myself on my back.
When
I'm with him its magical.
No one else makes me feel the way he
does.
I know he's done this before.
I tried to tell myself that we were special, that what we had could work.
I
don't try anymore.
He doesn't care.
I remember the
first time this happened.
I was so young,
so naive.
He
left when he was done.
I stayed.
When he returned he was
furious.
Rage emanated from his entire being.
It was so pure.
I have never seen anything like it.
I hope I never do again.
I was afraid.
I still am.
I don't stay anymore.
He is the habit that I can't break.
But I'm so tired.
I
don't want to do this any more.
I'm not free anymore.
When did I lose myself to him?
Harry is different.
He is
safe.
warm.
comfortable.
He is not dangerous.
or
cold.
or intimidating.
He does not make me feel alive. Instead I feel complacent.
He is slow.
gentle.
His lips don't make mine feel like they are on fire.
But I'm not
Afraid
Not Weak.
So I stay.
He holds me and...
I
don't want to leave.
Slowly I forget how it could be with someone
else.
When Malfoy stares at me I look away.
Slowly I forget.
