A/N: So what is this, you ask??? To be quite frank, I have no idea. All I know is that it's been months since I've updated anything, and I have been itching to do a one-shot for weeks now. But angst, you ask??? Ron/Hermione angst??? I know, it's ridick to me too. Oh, it's unbeta-ed. And I wrote it in about a half hour. But I like it. Except for the horrible dialogue… but the dialogue isn't really the point in this one, now is it?
But enjoy, and if you don't get it/like it, that's okay too. My feelings aren't hurt.
Oh Ron.
Disclaimer: WTF am I talking about? NONE of it is mine. Give meeee a break, and go write letters of praise to Jo.
--
…i bet that bloke would sell us anything, he wouldn't care. i've always wanted to try firewhisky –
you – are – a – prefect, snarled hermione
ootp
--
she was freezing but she didn't realize it. she was cliché and trite and everything she hated and she didn't
even
fucking
know.
stupid ginny. idiot, fucking idiot.
didn't understand anything.
he's "gone" and that's done. that's… done… (that's… inelegance and flushed cheeks? …and wonderful)
nah, she was always the elegant one. in white and black and purple
(redheads can't wear purple).
they can't wear maroon either.
or yellow or spring green or… periwinkle…
--
"Oh come on Hermione… you're allowed to do one bloody bad thing in your entire bloody life…"
"Ron, don't be ridiculous. Didn't you listen when I told you about peer pressure? Do you want to be someone guilty of pressuring someone to do something they don't necessarily want to do?"
"Peer pressure, schmeer pressure." (One of Ron's favorite Muggle claptraps.) "I wouldn't be saying anything if I knew for sure you didn't want to. You do, I know it."
Hermione winced and glared at him, but was unable to keep from smiling at the way the long day in the early spring sun had turned the tops of his ears pink. He didn't look at her right away, and even when he did, it was only his eyes (baby blues, they were) that moved. He was leaning back on his freckled, hairy hands and his shirtsleeves were rolled up to his elbows and forearms were strong and scarred and his hair was a mess…
a complete mess…
Hermione glanced down at the dirty bottle Ron had managed to acquire… who knew how. With a deep breath, she grabbed the neck assertively, ignoring the grin that had spread across his face. She didn't stop to think and took a swig that sent her coughing and sputtering…
It burnt going down. She coughed again and smiled at him grudgingly.
--
ha. hypocritical hermione. ha ha ha.
how it always seems to work out, isn't it.
firewhisky shmirewhisky.
they can't wear maroon, either.
i lick…
look…
like the good stuff
dammit.
fuck ginny for still being allowed to smile.