I hate Valentine's Day. It is simply a commerical holiday, just another way to make money. This is what I tell myself anyways, mainly to avoid facing the truth. The truth being that I am terribly lonely, and only hate Valentine's day because I have no Valentine. Watching couples gallavant around holding hands, kissing, and practically drooling over one another makes me sick. Perhaps I would not want to vomit everytime I witness these acts of affection if I, myself, were participating in them.
I am not some ugly toad. I believe myself to be rather attractive, others have told me this is true. I have seen boys stare at me, I've seen them giving me appraising looks. However, I remain single. I believe it is some form of punishment, I have obviously done something to deserve such a fate. Deep down I know the truth, I am alone because I choose to be alone. Ever since my last relationship I have found it impossible to move on, or maybe I simply just don't want to. Images of a handsome blonde float through my mind, and I quickly push those thoughts away.
So here I am, in my apartment getting ready for a night with the girls. Why do I subject myself to this humiliation? Isn't it sad enough to be dateless on Valentine's Day, now I actually have to be seen in public without a boy by my side. Why I agreed to this I will never know. I comb through my long red locks once more, apply my pink lip gloss, pick up my purse, and head out the door. Needless to say I am not in a good mood and most certainly will not be pleasant company to be around. But what would you expect?
For some reason my friends seem to be in high spirits. The reason for this is unknown to me. Why they insist on smiling and laughing, acting as though they are truly happy is most baffling to me. I can't help but scowl at them, it is really quite irritating to be around happy people when you are feeling absolutely miserable. We arrive at the restaurant, and immediately I want to shrink down and die. We are surrounded by loving couples, and just the thought is driving me mad.
Somehow my friends still manage to remain up beat. They must be on something, there is no other possible way to explain their cheerfulness. I eat my meal in silence, but my friends don't seem to notice. They continue their incessant chatter, giggling over stupid gossip and such. After dinner they want to go out, apparently there is a cool club downtown they want to check out. I immediately decline, saying I don't feel well so they drop me off at my flat.
I storm out of the car, stomping heavily through the parking lot. By now I am sure I look unbelieveably scary. As I mutter obsenities under my breath, I make my way towards my flat. But then it happens, the icing on this disgusting cake, the thing to cap off this unforgettable night. The heel on my shoe breaks, and I land with a thud on my arse. I sit there in complete shock at how awful this night has been. My anger is beginning to boil over the surface and in a fit of rage I pick up my shoe and throw it as hard as I can before sinking my head into my hands.
I am temporarily knocked out of my self-induced stupor by a yelp of pain. I look up to see where the sound is coming from, and am met by a pair of familiar eyes, the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Pulling myself together, I realize his yelp of pain was caused by my shoe making contact with his head. I should feel embarassed, I should be running over to him to apologize but instead I stay put on the ground. I should atleast be making sure he is okay, I should say something, however this is not what happens. I begin laughing. Not nervous laughter or short giggles, I am full out laughing hard enough to bring tears.
I have officially lost my mind by now, I have gone hysterical. He must think I'm insane, but I don't care. I just continue sitting on the sidewalk in my nice black dress, laughing harder than I ever have before. When I am finally able to contain myself, I notice he is no longer standing in front of me. He is now sitting beside me, looking at me as though nothing out of the ordinary has occurred.
"Your shoe," he says, handing it to me.
I take my shoe that I so carelessly threw at him, the shoe that caused me to fall to the sidewalk. I then toss the shoe behind me, over my head and I hear it hit the pavement. His eyes are still on me, watching me intently but for some reason I am not uncomfortable. Nothing phases me now.
"Bad night?" he states more than asks.
He then gives me the once over with his eyes, taking in my disheveled appearance. I roll my eyes at this, a bad night doesn't even begin to cover it.
"Something like that," I respond.
There is silence for a while, however, neither of us make any effort to move. We simply sit quietly on the sidewalk, watching the cars drive by. The whole place is pretty much deserted, it being Valentine's Day and all. He finally makes to break the silence.
"Did you get all dressed up for someone special?" he asks, making conversation.
I'm not biting. I don't feel like talking.
"No," was the only response I gave him.
"You must have gotten dressed up for someone," he says.
Of course he would think that, it only makes sense. It was only logical that a girl dressed up on Valentine's Day was going on a date. I didn't respond this time. I just sit there, staring straight ahead, hoping he will leave it be. No such luck.
"Well you certainly are in a foul mood."
"Excuse me?" I say clearly shocked at his honesty.
"You're obviously upset about something."
"You are a bright one, aren't you?" I say back, sarcastically.
He sucks in a sharp breath, not expecting me to be so rude. Usually I am not a rude person, but I was not feeling particularly nice at the moment.
"So what happened? Get stood up? Get dumped?"
I turn to face him, my face completely expressionless. Blood was boling underneath my skin, but it didn't show on the surface. On the surface I looked cool, calm, and collected. My hatred for this arrogant boy was growing by the second.
"As if you care," I finally respond.
"Would I be here right now if I didn't?"
"I don't know, I don't know why you do the things you do."
My tone was becoming more and more bitter by the second. I couldn't help it, the words tumbled out before I could stop myself, not that I was trying that hard.
"Don't start," he said, his voice pleading.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"Don't tell me how I feel, If I say I hate you then I do."
"Well I don't hate you."
"I don't care how you feel about me."
"Yes you do."
"Stop doing that!"
"Stop doing what?"
"Just shut-up and leave me alone."
For dramatic effect I pushed him away. He didn't move much, but it felt good to push him anyway. Why was he being so aggravating? Why was he even here? My curiosity was beginning to get the best of me.
"Why are you here?" I asked.
"I thought you wanted me to shut-up and leave you alone."
"Stop being such a smart ass and answer the question."
"Wow, we are touchy today aren't we?"
I just glared at him. No words could describe the irritation he was creating inside me.
"I came here to find you," he said simply.
My eyes almost bugged out of my head. What the hell?
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"I mean I do know, I just don't want to-"
"You are so aggravating!" I yell, "Why is everything so complicated with you? I'm so tired of this!"
I scramble to my feet to get away from him as fast as I can. I have had enough of this stupid holiday, and all I want to do is climb into my bed and go to sleep. However, it doesn't seem like that is going to happen because he has my arm now and isn't letting go. He spins me around quickly so that we are face to face. Nothing he could say would make any difference, nothing.
"I'm in love with you."
Okay, except for that. Where did that even come from? He wasn't supposed to say those words, no this was not supposed to happen. But he just kept talking.
"I went to your flat, but you weren't there. I was stupid not to think you would be on a date, I mean it is Valentine's Day. I thought for sure I had lost you for good, but then you hit me with that damn shoe. I saw you sitting there all dressed up, looking so pretty and realized you weren't dressed up for me but for someone else. But a flicker of hope went through me because you looked so miserable, and I thought maybe just maybe I still have a chance."
I was shocked, shocked beyond belief. I just stared at him, not knowing what to say or what to do. I gave into my first impulse, which is always anger, and began hitting him.
"How-dare-you-say-this-now!" I yelled inbetween hits to his chest.
He grabbed my wrists to prevent me from hitting him anymore. I stared up in his eyes defiently, which was my mistake. His eyes were my favorite feature. When I looked into them I felt as though I was swimming in an ocean of deep blue and grey. I stopped struggling against him and allowed myself the release I had so desperately needed. I sobbed, holding onto him for dear life. He held me close as I cried into his chest, my entire body shaking dangerously from all of the pent up emotion.
He stroked my hair soothingly, begging me to calm down. I finally stopped when I had no more tears left to cry. I knew I looked hideous, my face blotchy and red with mascara cascading down my cheeks. My hair was a mess by now and my dress was dirty from sitting on the sidewalk. He didn't seem to notice any of these things. He cupped my cheeks in his hands, lifting my face up to look at him.
"You are so beautiful Ginny," he whispered so softly I almost didn't hear him.
He brushed away the wet stains on my face before gently lowering his lips to mine. He timidly kissed me, as if asking my permission to continue and when I didn't object he deepened the kiss. The feelings I thought I had put well behind me came to the surface once more. His kisses made my knees go weak, they made me forget my troubles, made me forget everything.
When he finally pulled away, I kept my arms wrapped around his waist. I couldn't let go, I didn't want to let go. This didn't seem real, I had dreamt it for so long, how could I be sure I wasn't dreaming now? He smiled down at me while attempting to remove my arms from his waist, but I just held on tighter.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said as if he could read my mind.
I relaxed a little, but was still reluctant to let him go. He put a loose strand of hair behind my ear before lifting me off the ground. He carried me bridal style down the sidewalk and up to my flat.
"Let's get you inside, love," he said.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling my face up to his ear.
"I love you too," I whispered.
"I know," he said smugly in a way that only Draco Malfoy could pull off.
Maybe Valentine's Day isn't so bad afterall, even if it is a commercial holiday.