A/N: Just A Drabble
Disclaimer: I Own Nothing
He kisses her – the boy with blonde hair and a name she doesn't remember. His kisses are wet and slippery, but she feels nothing as she receives them, nothing except wet and slippery.
"Stop."
She pushes him away and starts to button her blouse and fix her hair around her shoulders, her perfect blonde hair that is 'just like her mother's.'
"What's wrong, Vic?"
His name is Jon, she remembers it now. Jon, and she thinks he's in her mathematics class with Professor Matthews, but she can't be sure.
"I just…I don't love you."
And how can she? He doesn't compare to blue hair and chocolate eyes, even if he is different from everything she grew up with.
"You don't need to," he jokes. And to him, she's just a girl that he'll never remember after tonight, and he expects her to feel the same.
She doesn't.
She believes in butterflies in her stomach and blushes and, of course, blue hair and chocolate eyes – even if they are familiar.
But Victoire lost love in her quest for freedom from labels and comparisons and traditions, and now it's too late for them.
"You're right," she agrees with him. Agrees with Jon who doesn't understand her world or her philosophies and probably doesn't even know her name.
She lets the kissing commence.
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