ADONIS

Pansy Parkinson always thought that she'd die for love.

She doesn't know the place where 'expendable' turns into 'exterminate' in his mind, but that formless, black place rules her life, now. Even as one who loves him, all she can hope for is to stay in the first column for as long as she can. Pansy is not nearly so naïve as to think that she's irreplaceable to him, even if her life is based on him.

It feels almost as if her heart has two suns, like that planet from the Muggle magazine – rotating around them in a sort of convoluted 8, trying not to get too far away from one or the other.

She didn't mean to cross the line.

Pansy is a worldly girl, and one who doesn't wish to die. She follows her marching orders as best she can, starts work the very instant she gets it. Her mother would be proud, Pansy thinks, if she hadn't killed her years ago.

Suddenly, her heart is still in its little space, taking a break as two suns implode around her. Her world is static, for this moment, because it has to be. Pansy always follows orders efficiently, instantly, no matter what they mean to her. This is the only way she can.

In the distance, she hears his voice remarking upon how pretty the sight is, white-gold hair soaked in blood, and her voice works on its own to agree. What a pretty, pretty boy, dead among the roses, his silver eyes wide just as she imagined they would be. Her hands should be trembling, now, and she should be crying and screaming, begging with all that she has for him to live – but her heart is still, in its place, and slowly moving towards the second sun. She smiles and says that yes, it's a very pretty thing, but he's no longer listening to her.

Pansy stands alone in the garden, blood dripping from her hands, the most beautiful boy in the world lying dead at her feet, and her heart keeps moving sluggishly around a dead star. She always thought that she'd die for love.

She never pictured herself killing for it.