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Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot.
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Delirium
I need you so much closer
Transatlanticism – Death Cab for Cutie
"Make me a picture," She said suddenly. He smiled at her.
"What do you want me to draw?" he asked, clearly humouring her. Ginny grinned at him.
"Me, of course. I'll be your model." He winked at her.
"My model and my muse. Not too many artists are so lucky," he told her. Delighted, she kissed one pale cheek before bounding away excitedly.
"Where do you want me to pose?" She asked, her coffee brown eyes sparkling. Draco gestured to a spot in the middle of the plush black carpeting. She skipped over to it, before plopping down. He smiled again.
"Not quite like that, love." He said, unpacking his easel before walking over to her. He ran a hand up her bare leg before gently pulling it to his desire position. Then the other one on top of it, ankles crossed. She sat up, supporting herself with one arm. Draco looked at her for a moment and pulled one strap of her thin white dress off of her slim pale shoulder. Ginny shivered as his hands lingered. Draco ran one large hand though her hair, before arranging it around her, a halo of red. He leaned her head slightly to the side, so that her long red hair spilled down her back, and lightly touched the ground. It made a beautiful contrast with the black carpet. Draco ran his thumb over a freckled cheekbone, before walking back to his easel.
"Perfect," he breathed. Ginny blushed, a lovely peach colour filling her cheeks. Draco smirked.
They were quiet, and the only sound was the comforting scratch of Draco's charcoal against the canvas.
She smiled as his steel eyes met her. Then she looked down, blushing as she felt the silver orbs trace her curves.
"You must be still, love. I can't draw you if you're moving." He murmured, absorbed in his work.
She murmured an apology, than set herself to studying him to distract herself from the numbness that was growing in her arm.
A lock of white blond hair fell into his eyes. Her fingers itched to move it away. No, she mustn't move.
She watched his hand move across the page, confident and sure, using quick strokes. He was peaceful, quiet. His lips parted. He didn't seem to notice. Ginny wished she could kiss him.
It seemed like forever, sitting there and watching him. But no, she could never grow bored of watching him. Her hungry eyes never had their fill of his familiar achingly beautiful features.
Finally, he put down his charcoal. Getting up, he stretched with the grace of a cat. The walking over to, he extended one hand. Ginny took it, feeling the familiar shot of magic go through her. He smiled at her. She couldn't bring herself to care about how her hands were almost as black as his from the charcoal.
"Would you like to see it now?" Oh, did she ever. Excitement thrummed through her. Still holding his hand, she bounced over to the easel, her light dress swirling where it ended at her knees.
Ginny gasped when she saw it. Draco smirked. He rolled up the page and handed it to her.
"Do you like it?" He asked her, clearly knowing the answer. She laughed.
"Of course I do! Dray, you made me beautiful." He pulled her close and whispered in her ear.
"You were always beautiful, even if you were the last one to see it."
The charcoal rendition of Ginny had a slight quirk to her full lips, as if laughing at an inside joke that she'd never be a part of. There was a childlike gleam of innocent curiosity in the drawings eyes and her skin was unblemished and sprinkled with freckles. Even her hair, the soft red curls she'd never been too fond of, flowed smoothly to very lightly touch the floor.
She turned to him, and twining their fingers closer together, kissed him full on the mouth. The magic shocked her like an electrical current again.
"Thank you," she told him. She lowered her eyes, as she played with their hands. There was a dark red liquid on the backs of his hands. How odd. He hadn't used any paint. A growing sick feeling that she didn't like at all bloomed in her gut. She pushed away the thought.
She looked up at him and smiled. There was something wrong with his left eye. There was more of that dark red. She frowned, blinked, and then it was gone.
"I don't understand," he said, his voice pained.
"Understand what?" she asked, her heart breaking. There shouldn't be such agony in his angel's voice. He gazed at her, his grey eyes suddenly intense.
"I don't understand why you keep doing this to yourself," he said frustrated, "why you keep letting me do this to you."
She was so confused. Did he not like drawing her? She thought they were having so much fun…
Draco stared at her hard. Her smile faltered… Little things kept coming back to her. Little, unimportant things like reality that had no bearing on her life…
As soon as the thought came to her, it vanished. She was so confused.
He pulled her closer. She let his smell wash over her. Clean, and slightly musky, it calmed her immediately.
She felt so safe in his arms.
He pressed his face into her hair, his hands running up and down her back soothingly.
"I'm sorry, Gin," he said quietly, regret evident in his voice, "I just don't understand why you keep doing this."
Ginny looked at him. He wasn't happy anymore.
"What am I doing?" she asked in confusion, "I'll stop if it's making you sad."
He smiled at her. So sad.
"You just have to remember." She was so much more confused than before…
"Remember? What in the world would I have to remember? I know it's not your birthday, so it can't be that…" she replied.
A game. That's what it was. He must be playing a game with her. She smiled blindingly at him.
"Okay, silly. What am I supposed to remember? Is it our anniversary? Can't be. That's in three months. It's not your mother's birthday; otherwise we'd be there by now. I know it's not from my side of the family. So what am I supposed to remember?"
He looked at her. All traces of his smile was gone.
"Reality." He said gently. Reality? That's what she was supposed to remember?
"I still don't get it," she whispered, "what does reality have to do with anything?" Draco looked at her, his mercurial eyes gentle, and full of sadness and regret.
"The reality is that I'm not here." Ginny's brow furrowed.
"Yes, you are. You're standing here plain as day. I'm holding you, Dray." He shook his head, the lock of hair in his eyes again…His eyes…There was something wrong with his eyes wasn't there? No there wasn't, she concluded. His eyes were perfect.
He hugged her closer for a second, and then laid a kiss on her forehead. Then he stepped away.
"I'm so sorry, Ginny." He said. Ginny made towards him.
"Draco, I don't understand!" Tears sprang to her eyes. Why was he acting this way?
"Ginny." Someone was calling her name. Who was calling her name? She and Draco were the only ones here.
"Ginny!" The voice called again. She threw a pleading look at Draco, before looking behind her. Who was calling her?
"Ginny." Draco's beautiful mouth shaped the words, but it wasn't his voice that said them. Draco was fading…Where was he going? Could she go with him? His lips shaped the words 'I love you', before he disappeared entirely.
"Where did he go?" Ginny asked her voice breaking. Ron looked at her. His blues eyes were so red. Why was he crying?
"Where did who go, Gin?" She looked at him.
"Draco! Did you see where he went, Ron?" Ron shook his head. Tears leaked out of his eyes. She couldn't understand why he was crying…
"He's not here, Ginny." Ginny frowned.
"That's what he said too. But, he was. I just saw him." Ron shook his head again.
"He's not here. He hasn't been for a while," he responded, his voice thick with tears.
"Why not?" she asked. She was so confused… Ron looked her straight in the eye.
"He didn't… he didn't make it, Gin. Remember?" He forced out. Ginny shook her head.
"I'm sure he'll be here soon. He's just a little late, that's all." Ron buried his head in his hands.
"He's dead, Ginny! He's dead. He died in the war. He died so you could live."
Ron really wasn't making sense… Why would Draco be dead? He promised not to leave her, didn't he? He just couldn't be dead…
Could he?
He promised not to leave her!
She threw herself into Ron's arms. He was dead! He was dead and she was mad. Absolutely bloody barking… Stark raving mad…
It took her a moment to realize that Ron was shaking her, and then another minute to realize that she was laughing.
"I think I'm going mad, Ron," she whispered, her voice breaking. Ron shook his head.
"I am, Ron! I swear, I just saw him!" She cried.
"You just forget sometimes, we'd all like to forget."
She wiped away her tears with her free hand. What was she holding? Nothing made sense anymore…
It was a piece of paper. She unrolled it. Her picture. Draco's picture of her. She rolled it up.
"Let's go home," she whispered, taking Ron's hand.