A/N: Renewed Dramione fervor. Wrote this for sortinghatdrabbles week 107 but livejournal's being a pain in the tush and not letting me on the site. So just gonna post it here first. Enjoy!
She tried. She really did.
She accepted the flowers, the light kisses on the cheek, the tentative hand-holding.
She cried when he was hurt, laughed when he made stupid jokes, reprimanded him with words laced with underlying affection.
She would always be there to argue over meaningless snits or whether or not S.P.E.W was a waste of time. She would give in and help raid the kitchens, sneaking around pillars, arms loaded with pastries and butterbeers, giggling around the coconut cream stuffed in her mouth as they tread softly back to the Gryffindor common room. She would stroke his hair to calm him when he remembered and cried, huge, gasping sobs that sounded as if they were going to choke him from the inside.
She tried. She really did.
But she couldn't salvage the need to love him. Not yet. Not with him around.
Him and his caustic remarks that sting. Him and his sneers that contort his handsome face into something more malignant. Him and the rare times she sees him quiet, by himself with no followers or admirers, just him thinking.
And it hurt, the fact that she could push and push herself to the brink of exhaustion to love someone who deserves it, who needs it but still have all her effort retract and rebound to another target, one that she never wished to hit. And she couldn't face him or him just yet because she wanted to pretend, just for one more day, that everything was fair in the world and everyone who deserved love got it and everyone who had love gave it to the right person.
Just one more day.
…