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How Can Something So Wrong Feel So Right?
Ginny cried. She plead and wept and begged, but it didn't matter. It was over; he was moving on. It didn't matter that she wasn't ready to let go of her dreams. It didn't matter that in her own way, she loved him.
She didn't understand how things had changed so drastically. She'd been expecting a proposal any day, and had already begun planning their wedding. Now, after two years of dating he was pushing her away. He was walking away from her, and there wasn't anything she could do to stop him.
* * *
Ginny wasn't sure how many she'd had already, but when he came back with another round of the strong alcohol, she leaned heavily against him and pressed a noisy kiss against his cheek.
"I'm so glad you're here," she said after they downed the first shot in this set. After two hours of steady drinking, Ginny found her tongue loose and her mind slow. "Never thought I'd say that about you!"
"Tell me about it," the man muttered. The next time she kissed him, he said, "Let's finish the next round at my place."
* * *
Ginny straddled his lap, pressing close. They were both half dressed, kissing as though their lives depending on it. She poured all of her love and anger and frustration for Harry into the kiss. When anger won, she bit his lip, drawing it between her teeth, and the sucking on the flesh erotically.
He moaned against her mouth, his fingers digging into her hips.
"Shouldn't be doing this," she muttered against his lips when a small corner of her mind reminded her of it.
"Me either," he admitted. "But I can't stop."
He lay her on his bed.
* * *
Being with him was like nothing she had ever experienced before, something that she could admit even through the thick haze of alcohol.
They moved together, fitting like she'd never thought possible. And, even though he finished before her, she still found the experience extremely satisfying.
Drunk and exhausted, they fell asleep wrapped around one another.
Morning came too soon, the early dawn light shining obstinately through the open drapes. It pierced through Ginny's eyelids, and she groaned at the throbbing behind her eyes.
Disoriented, she reluctantly opened her eyes and looked around to see where she was.
* * *
She didn't recognize the room, with it's natural, earthy tones and sparse furnishings. The first wave of shame washed over her as she realized she must have gone home with a stranger.
She heard the shower through a door just left cracked open on her right. With her head pounding, Ginny slid out of bed, blushing as the second wave of shame swept over her when she realized she was naked.
She walked to the window to shut the drapes, picking up her clothes on the way. Hearing the shower turn off, she hurriedly pulled her clothes on.
* * *
The man who came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped low on his hips and his body still covered in small beads of water was the last person she'd been expecting.
When he saw her standing by the window, his lips curved up in a grin. He went to her and kissed her lightly. "Good morning, Ginny," he said as he moved past her to his closet.
"Malfoy!" she squeaked, her eyes following his movements in shock.
"Oh, come on, you had no problems calling me Draco last night," he reminded her, his eyes filled with heat.
* * *
Ginny's mind screamed every curse word she knew, yelling at her for sleeping with Draco Malfoy. What had she been thinking?
"I have to go!" she said, panic and fear lodged in her throat.
He came out of the closet wearing pants and holding a shirt in his hand.
"So soon? I thought we could have a repeat of last night," he said suggestively, smirking.
"Last night was a mistake!" she exclaimed. Her eyes were wide.
"Why?" he asked simply.
"Because I'm with Harry!"
He walked to her, ran his hands down her arms. "No, you're not."
* * *
She didn't want his reminders. She wanted last night to be a bad dream. She wanted to wake up and be in Harry's arms.
"No," she whimpered, tears filling her eyes. He was right, she knew he was right.
"Yes. He left you, just like Pansy left me."
She shook her head, refusing to accept it.
"And last night, it was just us," he whispered, and then pressed his lips against hers again.
She wanted to pull away - this was just so completely wrong! - but his lips felt so good, so warm and soft against hers.
* * *
Her mind forced its dominance over her body, and she pulled away.
"We can't do this," she said, a hand pressing firmly against his chest.
"Why not?" he challenged.
"Because it's wrong. You're you, and I'm me." It was a weak argument, and she knew it.
"It wasn't so wrong last night," he reminded her.
"It's wrong," she repeated.
His fingers brushed lightly along the side of her face, and her eyes slipped closed.
"Do you really believe that?" he asked softly.
Brown eyes met blue. "I don't know, anymore," she admitted, whispering.
* * *
"Stop trying to convince yourself, then," he suggested, his hands moving to her hips.
He lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and held onto his shoulders instinctively.
"Let me show you how right it can be."
Ginny's heart was fluttering in her chest. She didn't know how it could be right. He was a Malfoy; she was a Weasley. There'd never been this possibility before.
She knew, though, that last night he'd made her forget about Harry, and that was so much more than she could hope for.
"Show me," she whispered.
End
A/N: I hope you all enjoy this little foray into Ginny's twisted love fuel the muse!