Blaise Zabini looked in the mirror, straightened the collar of his robes, and then strode briskly out the door. He wasn't in the mood to brood today. He was getting married and as his mother had shown, it was a rather complicated and unpleasant business. He knew he shouldn't think that way, but it didn't really help that the person that he was marrying was rather unsatisfactory. But there would be no brooding today. No brooding on what happened and what could be.
She was sitting on the leather bench outside of their posh hotel room in London. Blaise walked up to her, pecked her on the cheek and proceeded to slide the Muggle electronic key pass into the reader. He strode into the room, loosening his tie on his way to the fully stocked mini bar. Ignoring the rather high price range, he inspected the bottles on the shelf and selected a bottle of Johnny Walker whiskey and poured himself a glass.
'Planning on joining me, darling?' he called as he examined the wine rack for her favorite champagne. She reluctantly walked into the room, nervously twisting her purse strap in her hands.
'Blaise,' she began.
'Yes, darling,' he answered.
'There was a strange man following me today. When I confronted him, he said that he knew you.'
'How strange. He didn't hurt you, did he, Annie?'
'No… but he threatened to if I didn't break things off with you.' She paused, gaining courage with each word. 'Blaise, I'll be blunt. Who are you?'
Blaise laughed and put down his drink. 'I am Blaise Zabini, Annie. Are you okay? Did he hurt you?' He asked, suddenly concerned.
'No, Blaise, that's not what I mean. What I mean is, why are you involved with these people? Everyone knows you, Blaise.' Her voice rose and quaked with passion and fear. 'Everyone knows you but me. Blaise, darling, I know there's something that you're not telling me and it hurts. I feel like such a fool for loving you, Blaise. I feel like such a fool for loving you and not even knowing who you are. I don't even know what you do for a living. Oh God,' she started laughing hysterically, 'I'll have to tell my mother that you're part of the Mafia.'
'Annie, I'm not part of a Mafia,' he said concernedly.
'Really? Then why does this strange man threaten to kill me if I don't leave you alone? Why can't I spend the night alone anymore? Why did you hire a bodyguard for me when you're gone? What you're not telling me is scaring me, Blaise. And I'm tired of running scared. Tell me who you are, or I'll walk out this door and never come back.' Her voice throbbed with emotion.
Blaise was silent for a minute. She was a Muggle. There was no way that she could understand him. There was no way that he could trust her with knowledge of who he truly was.
'I can't tell you. But I love you, and if you trust me it will all go away, if you will just…'
'That's not an answer. And no, it won't go away. Don't lie. The people you're associated with and the problems you have just don't go away. I love you, Blaise. But you're not ready for marriage yet, not now and probably not ever. You shouldn't lie to the ones you love Blaise, 'cause we're all just going to walk away.' She picked up a suitcase that Blaise hadn't noticed and smiled at him one last time before walking out the door; teary eyed and defeated in the game of love.
No brooding. No brooding… He started to unconsciously play around with the ring in his pocket. There was no way he was going to trust Draco with the wedding ring he would give to Pansy today. The bastard lost too many things. Trust. He stopped cold in his tracks. He may have lost Annie, but he couldn't lose trust. He wouldn't let himself. Trust was what would make this already hell-ridden relationship work. Trust. He shook his head. If only he had learned that sooner.