"I love you, Draco."
He tilted my chin up, his cold stony eyes watching my every move. I was brought up as a calm, pureblood lady. He took it all away. He made my blood boil, my breath short, my cheeks flushed and my heart stop. One kiss and I knew he felt the same way.
"No, not till we're married."
Both of us were panting, half naked and ready to go. I feel his hands creeping up thigh. When he touched me, I gasped and arched my back wanting more. He gave me kisses up the side of my neck, one passionate kiss on the lips and a gentle one on the forehead. He said something that made want to jump him even more.
"Not till we're married."
"I have to tell you something."
I look up to see my boyfriend dazed and confused. Hushing him, I sit him on our couch. I return from the kitchen with a cup of his favourite Earl Grey tea and set it down on the table. His head is in his hands. I move in front of him, kneeling, and then take both of his hands in my own.
"I've been cheating on you. I'm sorry."
"I have to tell you something."
I hate it when he says this. Every time it's the same. Every time I take him back. He's man enough to admit it, and he always comes back to me. That must mean something; he must love me. He gets down on his knees in front of my reading chair, taking both my hands in his, like I had that first time many years ago.
"I love you. Will you marry me?"
"I have to tell you something."
He hasn't said that since we've been married. Two years. Please don't let it be what I think it is. Anything but that. My mother has to live to see her grandchildren.
"I'm sorry. She's three months pregnant and she's keeping the child."
I take it back. Anything but THAT.
That was the day I, Pansy Parkinson, packed my trunk and left him for good.