Insomnia
Disclaimer: Everyone belongs to J.K. Rowling, not me. This is not going to be a long fic, it's 00:35 and I'm tired but I can't sleep until I write this or Ron and Harry will chase each other around in my dreams forever and after Damien and his last boyfriend I don't want to see anyone chase anyone, don't ask lets just say Damien really should learn to lock is door.
Note: Aw poor Ron. This takes place in book 4, goblet of fire, right before the quidditch world cup at the burrow. Hey the title has a double meaning! I can't sleep and Ron can't either, different reasons though, he doesn't write Fanfictions.
Thanx to: Undomiel, who suggested that a Harry/Ron fic might be cute.
How did they expect me to sleep? How could I? With him so close to me that I could reach out my hand and feel his smooth skin under my finger tips. This is almost too much for me to bear, that's probably the reason why I can't sleep.
We had come up to my room and moved my bed so that the four of us would have more room. I had taken a place next to him so that I could be near him. I might not have let on, but that scar really bothered me. I was really worried about him, what if Voldemort came back and took Harry away from me? I would die. I would just die!
He sleeps so soundly. His flesh is turned pale by the moonlight shining through the window. His hair stands out in every direction, something that I have always found very cute. The scar on his forehead stands out red in the moonlight and again for the ten thousandth time I curse Voldemort for trying to kill my Harry and for causing him such misery.
If it wasn't for Voldemort Harry would have parents and he wouldn't have spent most his life living in a cupboard! It makes me so angry the way the Dursleys treat Harry that I want to turn them all into pincushions, but I can't. What would Harry think? They are his family after all!
The twins are snoring softly behind me. Ha, it's to laugh at! The whole house is asleep and here I am, looking at my love's sleeping form; longing to reach for him, longing to kiss him. I wish to see his green eyes stare at me with desire, for his lips to press against mine. All wishful of course, he could never love me like I love him, he just couldn't. If only he was a girl - but then he wouldn't be Harry would he? Oh all of this isn't helping me. I can't stand it! His mouth moves as he mutters in his sleep.
I turn away from Harry, as I really should get some sleep: we're leaving early tomorrow and I wouldn't want to fall asleep in the middle of the Quidditch match now would I? So goodnight sweet Harry, goodnight. If my dreams could come true all your suffering would never have happened, but alas I possess no such magic. I close my eyes and let myself drift off to sleep.