"Telling
me to go
But hands beg me to stay
Your lips say that you
love
Your eyes say that you hate
There's truth in your
lies
Doubt in your faith
What you've built you laid to
waste
There's truth in your lies
Doubt in your faith
All
I've got's what you didn't take
You
promise me the sky
then toss me like a stone
you wrap me in
your arms
and chill me to the bone"
In pieces, Linking Park
"Filthy Mudblood whore" he spat as she fell to the floor, books scattering all around her body.
The words stung like acid and though she kept telling herself that it wasn't true, that she was no whore, it still hurt and she bit her lips to stop the tears from welling up in her eyes.
He seemed to enjoy her pain, as his smirk only grew wider and his cold eyes sparkled in satisfaction.
She tried to ignore him and turned to her books, picking them up gently from the floor, her mouth shut tight, mindful of her peers watching her with glee, not one of them lifting a finger to help her.
After all, she was outnumbered by Slytherins and she was a measly Gryffindor, not worthy of their time, pity or sympathy.
Not that she wanted any of it anyway.
When her books were collected she rose quietly from the floor, her eyes begging him silently to leave her alone. She had no such luck.
She pretended that he didn't understand her silent plea, but in the dark corners of her mind the glimmer of malice in his eyes was noted, but ignored as her heart broke with every word uttered from his flawless lips.
"Where are your two body guards, Whore?" he mocked and pulled the girl next to him closer to his body, knowing how much it would hurt her.
Pansy Parkinson, oh, how she loathed the pug faced slut. Sadly, said pug faced slut had claim over the man she lo—liked, and she had none.
She watched in masochistic fascination as Parkinson ran her hands over his body, the body that not so long ago had rested naked against her own.
"They got tired of your filthy mudblood cunt, did they?" he sneered.
A part of her wanted to scream at him, shout that he sure never got tired of said filthy cunt, that he always came back for more.
But she didn't, for she knew that any words of spite that was uttered from her lips would have consequences later, when he would catch up with her…somewhere where nobody could see them.
So she held her tongue and stayed silent as he continued his verbal abuse, she stayed silent as her heart was shredded to pieces infront of his friends and forced herself not to give any outward sign of pain.
Then her rescue came, in the form of two hot headed boys that covered her in their love and protection, so different from his cruel affections.
As she looked over her shoulder, when the boys were ushering her out of his presence, she shivered at the dark look marring his angelic features, and knew that when he caught her she was in for one hell of a beating.
--
She was pushed violently against the cold hard stones and winced as her head made painful contact with the wall, the resounding crack echoing in her aching head.
"Filthy mudblood whore" he stated calmly, as if observing a painting and merely commenting on what was displayed on the picture.
She guessed that was a way to see it, when e looked at her, the painting in front of him, he only saw a filthy mudblood whore, and that was the only thing he was going to comment on the artwork, three words that ruined something that others saw as a masterpiece.
He crushed his mouth to hers, his teeth scraping her lips, her dirty blood caressing his wet tongue as it violated her mouth.
His hands grabbed roughly at any skin he could find and when he found himself unsatisfied with the amount of flesh he ripped her cloak of and left it a crumpled black mess on the stone floor beneath his dragon hide boots.
Her skirt was forced up around her wide hips, her knickers yanked off faster than you could say 'mudblood' and her legs spread wide for him.
She wasn't ready and frankly he couldn't care less.
His trousers fell to a heap around his ankles as he furiously pounded into her, murmuring how insignificant she was to him.
How little her presence in the world mattered to him.
"You are just a whore, Mudblood, you mean nothing" he spat and bit into her shoulder roughly, again tasting her filthy blood in his mouth.
Her jaw hurt from keeping it clamped shut tight so her screams couldn't escape her lips as he brutally rammed into her.
She wasn't unwilling, no, this wasn't rape.
She wanted him, oh, she loved him, and she saw that as he hurt her he was doing it to make sure that she would never hurt him, and she understood.
Her eyes filled with crystal tears at his cruel words, but she simply accepted it, the pain burning in her chest that was so familiar to her now.
"Do you understand, Mudblood?" he hissed, thrusting faster as he sought his release.
She didn't answer him.
A sharp slap echoed through the near empty corridor and she focused her watery doe eyes on him.
His voice seemed to soften as he stared into her eyes.
"Do you understand?"
She nodded silently, a single tear trickling down her face.
His eyes grew cold once more, and his brief pause was forgotten as he plunged into her with renewed vigour.
When he emptied himself inside of her, he pressed his cold lips gently against her ear, his breath ghosting over her skin.
"Whores mean nothing"
That was how he left her, on the floor, bleeding from small cuts and between her legs from his brutal prodding and in pieces.
His words seemed to echo in her head, and she wondered if he said it to remind her of her lack of importance in his life, or himself.
Disclaimers goes to JKR and Linking Park. Review and tell me what you think please?
My first sex scene! (kinda sad that my first sex scene was violent and bloody)