Title: Petals

Author: Hirachii

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairing: Katie Bell and Oliver Wood

Verse: Other

Rating: T (for language, rating may change)

Disclaimer: Nope. I don't own it.

A/N: So I'm back with another KBOW fic. All you Maid-Sama fans who have been reading my other fics can kill me now haha. Hope you enjoy this. R and R.

Why couldn't it be her instead, giving me flowers, blushing when she sees me in the hallway, throwing love notes to me in class? Why couldn't it be her, my chaser, the girl I've fancied since the dawn of time?

Wait. What? I don't fancy her, I just have a crush on her. Right?

Huh. I must look like a sight, stomping to the field in the dead of night with hundreds of roses in my hands. Charmed ones at that. I didn't know that there were six thousand ways to say 'I love you'. Seriously. They're all charmed onto each and every petal of the roses. Why did it have to be Romilda Vane?

So, here I am. In the middle of the Quidditch pitch, tearing apart every single blasted petal of those roses. I wish I could pretend they were from her. I've spent the entire day dreaming about what it would've been like if she had given them to me. Maybe I'd be with her now, kissing those pink lips, cuddling up to her in the common room…

I don't fancy her.

I fancy her.

I don't fancy her.

I fancy her.

No, I don't.

Yes, I do.

Clearly, I'm engaged with a mental war with myself. Heck, I'm ripping out a petal in time with my thoughts. Angelina told me muggle girls do this, except they say 'He loves me. He loves me not.'

Does she do that?

Oh, Katie. I fancy you.

No, I don't. I have a crush on you.

There's a difference.

It's starting to rain. I'm used to it though.

I've torn apart two roses just going 'I fancy her. I don't fancy her.' already. Merlin, I'm acting like a girl. Do you think she'd care about that? No. Oliver Alban Wood, you are going to get over her now. There's no chance that she fancies you so you might as well get over her.

But I don't want to get over her. I want to march up to her dorm and snog her senseless until she falls in love with me. Whisper that I fancy her a million times over, curl up next to her and listen to her breathing as she sleeps. I want to hold her hand, take her out on dates and give her goofy valentines, just glad to have her as mine. I want to feel her kiss and get a silly smile on my face because of the happiness that I feel. I want all that. I'd even give up Quidditch for her.

That would ruin our friendship. I'm scared of that. What if one day I tell her that I fancy, no, crush, on her but she runs away? I can only be so optimistic that she'll even give me the decency to run away instead of laughing in my face. She wouldn't do that, though. She's too sweet.

Do I really fancy her, though? I have 10 roses worth of petals to prove it. Each one ended with 'I fancy her.' So I must. But I'm letting flowers decide it for me. It doesn't stop me from mauling those flowers to death though. Half of me doesn't want to end with an 'I don't fancy her.' but the other half wants me to, if only to start getting over her.

I'm soaked to the bone but I'm still tearing out the petals. It looks like I'm sitting in blood; they stick to the ground and my robes. I can hardly tell whether the water streaking down my face is rain or tears. And I can hardly think straight. All I want is to get one 'I don't fancy her.' because she doesn't and I'm just kidding myself.

Bits of half-mauled rosebuds stick to my fingers as they clumsily pick the stitching of Mother Nature apart. I think I'm delirious.

"Oliver?"

Now I know I'm delirious.

Soft fingers grab mine and I'm looking into two pools of greenish brown.

"You're going to catch your death out here. Come inside with me."

"Katie?"

Of course it's Katie, you git. She doesn't notice how slow I am; or rather she just doesn't care.

"Come on. What have you been doing?" Her hand grips my wrist and all I can think about is how good it feels and how right it is for her to be with me.

"No. I want to tear every one of these roses apart." I think I'm pouting. Or is it just me?

She sighs softly before sitting next to me, taking a rose in her small hands.

"Why are you doing it anyways?" slowly, she unfurls the petals and plucks it apart, moving closer to me. She's warm, I don't think I can concentrate with her next to me like that.

"Romilda gave them to me…" As if that explains everything.

I start doing the 'I fancy her' thing again, but I almost lose track when she furrows her brow slightly, trying to pry apart the folds without damaging the flower. Under my breath, I say it instead of thinking it.

"You're trying to figure out whether you fancy her or not?"

"No! Not her… Someone else." It's getting harder for me to breathe, she's pressed up against me.

"Who?"

"Wait. K-katie? Will you move away please?" Hurt flashes in her eyes as she pushes herself away, looking down.

"You're just… Distracting me."

"I'm just trying to warm you up but whatever." She attacks the petals angrily, not caring anymore.

"You don't have to be here, you know."

"Do you have a problem with that, Wood?"

No, I don't. I want you back next to me. I want you in all those positions I've fantasised you in. I'm glad you came, you didn't have to but you did.

"No." We work in silence and the pile of flowers slowly diminishes into a single stalk.

It's well close to sunrise but neither of us care. At least, I don't. I don't know what makes me reach for it the same time as she does but a small smile rises on her lips.

"Share?"

"What do you mean?"

"I've been doing the 'He loves me' game." I'm jealous. Who does she fancy? I'm jealous. I want that guy to be me.

"Share, then." I pick it up slowly, curling my fingers around the first petal.

I fancy her.

I don't fancy her.

I fancy her.

Some primitive part of my brain makes me move closer to her as the final petal remains.

I fancy her.

Slowly, I tilt her chin up and press my lips against hers. Fireworks erupt behind my eyelids, butterflies dance in my stomach. It feels like winning a million Quidditch matches at once. All the clichés come out as I kiss her hungrily as she if were oxygen. But it all stops as I realise that she's not kissing me back. I pull back so quickly that I get whiplash.

"Katie… I-I'm sorry." She doesn't say anything but simply gets up and leaves.

I've ruined everything. She doesn't fancy me after all. I shouldn't have kissed her.

A/N: It's going to be a three shot so it's not over yet. Yes, it's OOC. Live with it):