Orokid: This was an interesting fan fiction to write, although I suppose I can only say that because I had started (and nearly completed) it on my mother's birthday while we were driving an hour to and back (total of two hours) to the everglades, my mother's favorite place in the state of Florida. At the time, I had my iPod on repeat on a particular song called "Single White Female", a country song that I enjoy listening to. For some reason, that day it put me in a writing mood… which led to me writing this.
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that has to do with this fanfic. I do not own Harry Potter or it's characters, nor do I own the song that I very loosely based the fic upon. So, in the end, I own nothing at all. Thank you for reading, and enjoy.
Single White Female
She looked at him from across the table, although she was trying her hardest not to seem as though she was. Thousands of thoughts ran into her mind as he slowly but surely moved through the several articles that had been written about the world that they lived in part time. It was the same thing that he did each and every morning, and it was something that she had learned about him over the years that they had sat across from one another while at school. He had continued his habit long after the agreement had been made that they would move in together- although the specifics as to why they had decided upon it hadn't quite been mentioned aloud to any one of them or their friends. Both of their relationships had ended, and they had both gone on the lookout for a place- otherwise, the subjects of their failed relationships had remained as a non-topic.
Then again, she couldn't quite tell the complete truth to the man in question, considering the circumstances that no one knew. She and the one whom she was supposedly head over heels with while they attended Hogwarts had ended up arguing over the smallest of things, and she could admit that she had at one time found the action endearing. By the time that they had spent more than a weeks under the same roof in the flat that they rented, she had grown quickly tired of his loud and uncouth behavior, the way that he would always expect the things that his mother had done with his father. She wasn't his personal Laundromat, nor his maid or cook, although he would always find a way to blame her denial of so-called womanly behavior on many other reasons that had little to nothing to do with the reasons that she really had. After taking his verbal slander for as long as she could allow herself to- the maximum being a mere four months- she walked out his door declaring that she would never return to it as romantically involved with the soon-to-be lone resident. Afterwards, she had apparated herself to the one person she could trust in such an emotional state of being- and talk of his own relationship issues (very little talk, mind you) and the possibility of loving with one another had become a reality later that same week.
It had been near a year since then, and she had learned to face some of the things that she had once vehemently denied to the person who had oftentimes asked her demandingly about during one of their hundreds or thousands of arguments. For all the time that had passed, she had been too stubborn to admit it to herself, but all the clues slowly fell into place. Throughout the year that they had shared their living space, she had caught herself glancing at him, studying his features in a way one might look at literature or art. The few times that their eyes had met, whether they would be sitting quietly at the kitchen table or merely taking leisurely strolls through the streets of London, he would always smile and laugh light, and she would join in as though the whole experience in itself had been nothing more than a joke between friends. In all truths, those were the times that she question that term the most, wondering quietly in solitude if she could really say such a thing as her heart pounded hard against her chest like the wings of thesteral in the sky, and as fast as the second hand on a clock in double time. The longer she remained near him, the harder it seemed for her to continue being nothing more than his friend.
She watched how he slowly picked up the mug that held his morning coffee, although she was sure that it looked as though her eyes remained upon the book she was reading. She watched him sip the dark liquid with a simple flare that only he had, and did her best to ignore the pounding of her beating organ.
"Interesting ads here…" she heard him murmur aloud, her heart nearly stopping out of excitement and of fear. In all truths, she had done something that she was sure was very uncharacteristic of herself, choosing an action that was terrifying- as well as very public- to someone like her. The decision itself had been completely done on the fly without as much preparation as she usually would have preferred. But, with it done, she had been on the edge of her seat, waiting patiently for her written plea to reach the papers, resigning to whatever her fate may be.
Swallowing the fear that caused a lump in her throat, she carefully placed her book down on the table, turning her attention fully to the young man who she had secretly been watching the entire time. Offering a slightly nervous version of her usual grin, she inhaled softly and finally spoke. "How so?"
Place his mug of muggle brew coffee back onto the table he had picked it up from, he let the newspaper hold against his hand, pointing out a small boxed want ad in that particular section with a gentle tap against it. From where she sat, she could make the words out without having to squint or ask for a closer view- because she had already memorized each and every syllable before they had been displayed before her very eyes right then and there. Attempting at ignorance of the subject, she pulled the paper over to her, reading aloud the things that she wasn't able to say straight to him.
"To the man of my heart's desires," she began, silently cursing the sickenly sweet things she had written on a night with too many butter beers. "We're been friends since we started school, and I used to think that was all we'd ever be. You were the one I always went to whenever I needed someone to talk to when argument arose between that prat who I used to love and myself. And after everything that's happened, we thought that we had our happy endings- but neither of us really did. It's probably better that way, but… I guess after everything had been said and done, I couldn't quite see you as that remarkable boy anymore- you became a handsome, wonderful man, and I found that the barriers that I once thought we had were nothing. I fell in love with you, from your kind heart to all of your scars. If you know who I am, please respond- I'll be sitting across from you like always." She gulped down the awkward lump that had formed in her throat, trying to ignore the fact that she was exactly where the ad said she would be- across from him. "Signed, your best friend- the bookworm." If she could have, she would have slapped herself in her forehead for giving such an obvious clue. She attempted to clear her throat, coughing as she tried to dislodge the odd feeling that seemed to be stuck in her esophagus. "Y-You're right. It is interesting." She laughed nervously, standing from the table that they had been seated at, picking up the novel that she had been 'reading'. "I just remembered- William wanted me to be at the office early today, so… I better go."
"It's your day off," the emerald orbed young man countered, standing from his place as well, a confused smirk across his lips, a somewhat knowing look within his eyes as he watched her stop in her tracks- only to continue on, giving an excuse that she attempted and hoped would work.
"He said Denis wouldn't be able to come in, so I volunteered to come in, so-"
"My response is that I left Ginny for a reason." Once more, the bushy haired young woman stopped in her tracks, slowly turning around like a child who had been caught stealing candy from a store. He stood near the table still, the paper forgotten at the table with his hands deep within his pockets. A small unsure smile was on his lips, and he gazed at her with both hope and fear. "And that, if you're interested in going out sometime as more than friends, that I… I would really enjoy-"
Before he could even debate how to finish the sentence that he had begun, feeling her arms wrap around his neck and her lips press giddily against his. Pulling his hands free from the confines of his jeans, he found his arms quickly encircle the young woman, pulling her closely, pressing his lips back against hers.
The paper laid forgotten for the rest of the day, and the woman who had written the ad could only assume that she was no longer a 'single white woman looking for Mister Right to respond'. And she was more than glad for it.
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Orokid: Hello, everyone who has read and it continuing to read the ending author's note that I normally put at the end of each fanfic that I've ever written. Its been great writing after all these years, and it's been awesome getting better and learning how to write better throughout the time that I've gotten to continue writing out my fantasies onto paper. That said, I'm not leaving or anything, nor is this my last fanfic- I just wanted to tell you guys that I'm happy to keep having you readers and to have all of those who review keep reviewing. It makes my day, even on the worst ones. Thank you all so much. : 3
Other than that, I'll do my usual- I'm attempted to nit-pick the fic in and out until I'm satisfied, but then I don't because I know that I wouldn't have it written any other way. A part of me may think it needs work, and another part of me is willing to allow my work to grow even without my usual nit-pickiness. Haha. But, anyway… it you liked the fic, didn't like it, or just like cookies and purple, review and tell me anything you want to. ^^ I'm always reading the reviews I get, and always enjoying them.