Infatuation
Disclaimer:
None of this is mine, as much as I would wish it to be. And I bloody hope you can't sue a girl for dreaming. Cause then I'm screwed.
A/N:
- Pearls
Okay. This is one of the first stories I've even finished, and I did it all on my own! Heehee. . So please be nice, but do tell me what you think. And you will get cookies for the 1st review! This is dedicated to my very lovely beta, FeistySprite. All my love Acil! Check out her story, it kicks ass! Hehe, on with the fic!
-She's silent - possibly contemplating some new idea of hers. Absently, she's blowing gently on her empty bowl, and each time she blows she has this gorgeous little pout thing going on that just completely turns me on. She's stopped blowing now - she flicks the tip of her tongue and catches it just behind the very bottom of her two front teeth, sharp and perfect, and then she casually wets her lovely, luscious lips. God, what I wouldn't do to be able to run my tongue along her pristine white teeth, and lick her full pouty lips for her.
As someone enters the Great Hall she quickly turns her head. Her flowing fiery mane is tossed over her shoulder, revealing the slender column of her alabaster neck. I imagine my own lips licking and sucking up her throat, planting sugary kisses all the way up her jawline. I wish I could whisper sweet nothings in her ear and feather her cheeks with kisses, light and soft. Nose, eyes - God, those shock green eyes of hers - forhead, her sweet, liquid lips, and down her slim throat to the sharp bones that stick out at the base of her neck, just above her cheast. I know it's weird, but I find them incredibly sexy - kind of feline and graceful, in my strange way. Hell, I find her incredibly sexy, everything about her just screams 'touch me!'.-
-God, what's wrong with me! I know exactly what's wrong with me. I can't get enough of her. It's like an addiction, a blissfully sweet craving. She's so passionate and fiery when she's angry, the complete redhead, but so adorable and irresistable when she's happy or excited - and she can be so... sensuous and sexy and satiny - like liquid midnight. God, she's turned me into a bloody poet. When did that happen! It started when she was at her sorting I guess. I remember being so bored, and then I noticed this cloud of fierce red hair striding towards the front. I kind of dismissed the evidently determined girlish first year as just another Weasley - never questioned her imminent progression into Gryffindor. But I really woke up when the stupid hat boomed 'SLYTHERIN!'. I suppose I might have taken up with her being a Weasley in my house, but she had piqued my interest - how was it that the youngest, most Gryffindorish member of the Weasley 'clan', aspecially the only girl of the famaily, had made it into my select group of witches and wizards?
I suppose I just kind of ended up being cold to her, and intrigued from afar. It turned out she had basically mentally bullied the hat into putting her into Slytherin because she was sick of being known as her brothers' younger sister. I mean, you've gotta love a girl who can talk her way into the most renouned and infamous house in the school just to make a name for herself, haven't you! I'll admit it - I was impressed.
And now she's in her fourth year, and I'm in my fifth, and she's lost all her baby fat and round cheeks, and she's grown into the most sexy, defined girl I know.-
-Somehow, she's worked herself into my inner circle of friends, just a few, Blaise, Pansy, Knott and then - her. She's Pansy's best friend, and kind of like my tight friend too. She's very definitely accepted, there's no doubt about that.-
-OK. I have a plan. A Get-Shot-Of-Ginny-Obsession Plan. It's very simple, basically, I give myself 10 to 20 minutes a day, completely given over to obsessing about everything I love abut her - her eyes, her lips, her hair, her sensuality, her confidence and self-assurance, her fearlessness and secret vulnerability, the way she thinks and the quirky little Ginny-ness that occasionally shines through her new, accustomed Slytherin attitude. Everything. The idea is that the time spent thinking of nothing but her will purge me of any... unsavoury thoughts about her for the day. And in theory, it should work. Hopefully.-
12.37 am, Slytherin girls' dorm room.
-Wow, she's hot. Her position in the bed suggests more at bondage than at any pre-natal instincts. She's stretched out, her long lean body easily covering the length of the slim bed. Her arms are reaching up above her head, one slender wrist pushed gently against the bannisters in the bedhead, the other elbow bent slightly more, so her other wrist falls on her pale forearm. Her legs are slightly splayed, stretching long from her body. God she's gorgeous. In the darkness, she doesn't move a muscle. Then she lifts her head slightly. 'Draco?'-