a/n. A compilation of all my entries for various challenges and competitions. This one was written for the Aphrodite prompt on the Greek Mythology challenge. Prompt: "write about someone who loves themself".
disclaimer. I do not own Harry Potter.
love.
Love.
The word was a strange one, Narcissa reflected, as she twirled in the mirror. The dress was white, like the other three dresses her mother had handed her, and Narcissa liked this one best. She traced her fingers over the intricate silver swirls, loving the wedding dress but wishing that the man she had to wear it for was another man.
Narcissa definitely didn't love Lucius Malfoy.
She thought about what it meant. Narcissa didn't think on philosophical matters often - she never wanted to. Some called her vapid, but that was what her father had raised her to be - a pretty little doll, ready to be married off when he pleased.
What did love mean?
Trust? Attraction? Respect? Compromise?
She softly touched her face, smooth and unblemished. She trusted herself. She respected herself. And she thought that she was beautiful.
If she followed what she thought the definition of love was...Narcissa loved herself.
But did anyone else?
And did she love anyone else? Was she even capable of it?
Would anybody ever love her? Would she ever love anyone else?
Narcissa sighed. At least, if nobody ever did, she loved herself.