(She was the sun; she shone brightly and daily and her glow blessed everyone.
People wanted her presence, craved her attention;
But only one could steal her light.)
oOo
When Gabrielle finished her school life at Beauxbatons, she was unknowingly going on with her life, with no idea that Draco Malfoy was desperate for her.
He remembered her when she was younger and she came to Hogwarts with her sister, for the Triwizard Tournament. He remembered how her hair hung perfectly between her shoulder blades, long, filmy and silvery. When she moved it fanned out around her in an ethereal fashion, almost in slow motion. Her skin was pale and creamy, and all of her limbs were long and slender. He passed off his shocked feelings for her as simply her effect on him – the Veela blood that pulsed through her blue veins. So why was it that he was still waking in the night, his dreams plagued by the blonde vision?
It was always the same. He felt hands on his chest, his throat, his neck. He would moan and mumble in his sleep, and she would breathe in his ear, hushing him gently. She was lightweight and soft, a gentle pressure on his body as she sprawled out across him, letting her filmy hair slip over face and chest. His breath would hitch in his throat as he dared to reach up, seeing his white hand glowing in the darkness, and take a strand of that silver-blonde hair between his fingers.
Her kisses would scatter down his chest, her soft plump lips leaving no place untouched. When he looked down, her narrow, bright blue eyes would be focused on him heavily, unblinking. Every kiss she landed on his skin would burn the area, the warmth seeping down into the pit of his stomach, and somewhere much lower.
She would rise up on her hands, her face above his, and shining silver curtains of hair would hang around him. Slowly, her neck would bend, never taking her cerulean gaze off his, and her lips would meet his softly and lightly. His eyelids would burn white, and within moments, she was sliding down his body, leaving nothing but a clump of hair at his neck. She would release him from his pyjama trousers, and before he had time to realise what was going on, her hot mouth was clamping around—
"Ah!" Draco would wake up with a start, thrashing his hands in the bedding around him. He was panting, glancing around, desperately searching for his pale haired angel. But it was just a ghost, she was hundreds of miles away somewhere in France, leaving Draco here alone, screwing his eyes closed and trying to get back to his dream once again.
oOo
