:::For My (v-i-r-t-u-a-l) Little Sister, Bri:::
…
title: there's no such thing as luck
pairing(s): dominique/lysander, rose/scorpius
prompts: diamonds, possibility, there's no such thing as luck
note: I'm rapidly posting fics now, trying to get to the big five-oh. You never know – something b-i-g might just be heading your way. All I can say is to brush up on your Narnia…;D
She's absolutely perfect.
I love you, Dominique Weasley.
That's the first thought that runs through his head when he sees her, clad in a silvery-grey dress that compliments the light in her eyes perfectly.
We're the luckiest people ever, Ly!
Her eyes are sparkling like diamonds, and there's a fiery tendril of hair slipping out of her bun, and Merlin, if there was any possibility of them getting together, he'd be the luckiest man on earth.
There's no such thing as luck, Dom.
But that's what caused this whole thing in the first place, isn't it? Isn't that the reason she's holding Scorpius' hand, and why Rose is his date to this hellhole- er, party? The reason he sees stars (her) when he kisses Rose?
What do you mean?
"Dominique!" cries Rose, waving furiously. He glares violently at her, but the girl doesn't bat an eyelash. Dominique waves back at her cousin happily, but she hesitates when she notices the blonde boy sitting beside her.
Everything happens for a reason, Dominique.
"Malfoy," Rose acknowledges frostily, all eagerness disappearing once she sees Scorpius. Her grip tightens involuntarily around his hand, and he has to hiss her name in pain three times before she notices and lets go, blushing furiously. He doesn't even notice when Scorpius gives a wavering smirk; he's too busy looking at her.
So you're saying that I'm just another rung on the ladder?
"We're, er…. lovely," she manages to choke out, eyes barely meeting his unwavering stare. "How are you and, erm…. er…"
"Lysander," Rose supplies helpfully, shooting another one of her Looks towards her ex-boyfriend, "and I are wonderful, thank you."
You're special, starshine.
"Fantatic," replies Dominique nonchalantly, still locked in a staring contest of epic proportions.
"Congratulations," mutters Scorpius, still raking his eyes over her.
"Glad to you see you all care so much," Rose huffs, crossing her arms.
I'm sorry, Lysander.
She looks away from him, periwinkle eyes troubled and stormy. Her hair, dark red with highlights of the trademark Veela blonde, is slipping out of its carefully knotted bun, but, in his opinion, it just makes her twice as beautiful. Twice as natural.
But I can't do this anymore.
And he's looking at the party, seeing Rose and Scorpius try and stare each other down, watching James and Fred try and drink the other under the table, but all of his attention is focused on her, in all her stormy-eyed, messy-haired glory.
We're just too different.
And, Merlin knows he doesn't want to, but he can't help but wonder how things would have been had he been able to go back in time and just fix it all.
I don't think it's working out.
But it didn't matter anyway, because Lysander Scamander was eating his words. Of course there was such a thing as luck, and Merlin was it screwing him over now.
It's just too hard.
A single tear escaped.
And so did his heart.
We're over.
Pleasepleaseplease review?
- Drishti