A/N: Hello all you beautiful lovely people! I am so sorry for not publishing anything in so long! I've been right busy (in the loosest sense of the term) trying to write an original story. Consider this as a formal apology, and everything else I publish for a while. You are all amazing and thank you so much for the reviews and favourites and everything seriously you all get cookies and stuff.
Disclaimer: I really wish I owned these two because I just love them so much and want to wrap them up in a little blanket and love them. Unfortunately I don't, and they belong to JKR. She owns the good parts.
"You should really stop smoking, y'know," Fabian said as he dropped down onto the hard concrete bench that Hestia currently occupied.
"You should really keep your opinions to yourself, y'know," she snapped back, mimicking his tone in a falsetto; before taking a long drag from the cigarette she was advised to stop smoking.
"I take it your in a good mood, then?" he asked, slinging an arm around her shoulders and rubbing brusquely on her forearm. She leaned into him, revelling in the heat he gave off. The thin school jumper she had on was nothing against the cold that was English springtime.
"I'm cold, tired, overworked, irritated, and I'm getting berated for having a fucking smoke by a prat with hair that makes him look like a friggin' cupid," she said, letting her slight cockney accent lilt her voice, something she frequented in doing when in Fabian's company.
Taking her likening of looking like Cupid to heart, he said "ding!", before using his other hand to poke her on the nose. "That's the arrow. You've got to fall in love with the first person you set eyes on now."
"I'm not looking at you, then," she said, closing her eyes and struggling out from his embrace.
"Hurting my feelings here, Hest."
"Good," she replied, once free and had her eyes open.
"Who've you seen so far?" he asked, after a moment.
"My cigarette," she replied shortly, taking a drag as if to emphasise that.
"Ah, the forbidden love of a moody Ravenclaw and her cigarette, destined to be apart, never to live the life they truly deserve."
"Deny thy fact you are an inanimate object and refuse thy inevitability you are going to burn out in a few minutes," she quoted mockingly, tapping the stick and watching the dusty ashes fall.
"Is that a smile?!" he asked, shocked, pointing conspiratorially to the slight smirk on her crimson-painted lips. "From Hestia Jones?!"
"Bugger off and leave me to my star-crossed love," she said, fighting a loosing battle with the slight smirk that threatened to become a full blown smile.
"But does the smoke make you smile? Laugh even when you're pissed? Do they make your heart beat faster when they're around?"
"Yes. You shot me with the love arrow. The smoke is my soul mate. Look at all the kisses I gave them," she said, showing him the red rim her lipstick had left upon the white half of the stick.
He clenched his fists and shook them. "I can't control my jealousy," he said dramatically, pulling a distraught face and making fake sobbing noises.
"Get used to it," she said, winking at him. "It's your fault. You're the one who shot me with the love arrow."
"It was all just a ploy, you silly girl. You were supposed to see me and fall into endless love."
"Your plan has its faults," she pointed out.
"You don't say?"
"You really should put more effort into your plans to win me over," she said matter-of-factly.
"I try my best," he whined, pouting so pathetically she couldn't hold in the chuckle, lightly hitting Fabian when he beamed at the fact her made her laugh (let it be known that it was a hard thing to do).
"I sincerely doubt that."
"Why do I hang out with you?" he asked her rhetorically. "You only wound my fragile ego."
"Ah, you love me," she said, taking a drag and blowing a smoke ring into the grey sky.
"To hell, I love you. You're a moody bitch."
"I know you do, so shut up," she said, and as an afterthought; "and you're a oversensitive prat and I hate you."
"So I'm the poor sap in this rom-com biz?" he asked helplessly. "The poor sap of a guy in love with the bipolar and unattainable girl who hates him?"
"Uh, yeah. Shitty life you live, isn't it?"
"Nope. The good part about rom-coms is that the guy always gets the girl. Simple facts."
"Ew. I'm not the girl."
"What's wrong with me?" he asked, acting hurt.
"As aforementioned, you look like cupid and you're annoying and oversensitive and an idiot."
"Who said I wanted to end up with you anyway?"
"I know you cry yourself to sleep at night because I'm not your girlfriend."
"You wish," he muttered.
"I know," she corrected.
"Yeah, yeah," he sighed, running a hand through his copper curls.
"So you admit?" she accused, pointing the burning end of the nearly finished cigarette that was cause for this whole back and forth conversation.
"Of course. Everything I said was a lie. I am secretly head over heels for you. I love you so, so much, and I just really wish you could see that," he said sarcastically, giving her a sidelong glance and a slight smirk.
"Knew it!" she cheered, throwing both arms up and dropping the smoke in the process.
"Ha… Yeah, well…" he said, dropping the smirk and starting to get up, stamping out the stub as he did.
"Hey, hey, hey," she said quickly, grabbing his hand. "What?"
"Don't worry, Hest. I'll see you around, yeah?"
"No. Shut up and sit down," she commanded, pulling him back down to his previous seat. "What's gone on in the past five seconds?"
"Nothing, really. Just me being stupid," he sighed.
"You always are. What's different about it this time?"
"You're being stupid too."
"I'm always stupid too! Come on, what's wrong?"
"I just..." he said, before running another hand through his hair. "I don't think you realize when there's something good right in front of you."
Hestia took a moment to consider this – nibbling slightly on her bottom lip, her blue eyes roving the scene around her, trying to find out exactly what she was missing. (Let it be known while Hestia may be a Ravenclaw and near top in all her classes, she was extremely dense.)
"Look, don't blow a fuse. I wasn't expecting you to get it or whatever. I'm going to go and do my potions essay, all right?"
She frowned, pulling one half of her mouth into a grimace of sorts. "I was only joking, y'know. You know I love you."
She wasn't sure, but she thought she could hear a "not in the way I wish you did" as he turned and left.
A/N: Let me angst for my OTP that has no canonical evidence of ever happening ever *cries*.
- Ruby