Title: Enemy
Author: SorryGrimmjow
Genre: Romance/Angstish
Rating: T
Pairings: Teddy/James II, Teddy/Victoire
Summary: James decided that he was past caring.
Disclaimers: The wonderful world of Harry Potter is not at all mine and obviously belongs to the brilliant J. K. Rowling. The plot, however, is mine.
Warnings: Minor language
Word Count: 2376 words
Notes: Do you think I should continue or just leave it as this? Also, different style than my usual. Not sure how I feel about it yet. It's rather raw.
Just like that.
Without any warning whatsoever.
James knows exactly how he should act, but does he want to? Not at all.
He tried to suck it up, he really did. He tried to look away and ignore it as much as he could because it just hurt. It gave him a right stab in the heart. And yet, he couldn't look away completely. He'd sneak another look, just a quick flash of the two together, all happy and giddy and content; another stab.
Of course, this was all when he could afford to look away.
As he was friends with the person who made his insides squirm and heart flutter, James had to make some sort of eye contact. Or else he would ask in that light but in no way soft voice if anything was wrong. No, James would say, eyes anywhere except on him or her. And then he would nod in an unconvinced manner but look back at her all the same.
Because she mattered more than James.
She always would.
Anyway, back to the present.
James is faced with a situation he can't stand: when they just show up unexpectedly.
His dad's bloody godson and his bloody cousin stand in front of him, their heavily clothed arms wound together and eyes casting loving gazes toward each other. It makes James sick and bitter. But he sucks it up the best as he could like always and mustered the most indifferent voice he could manage.
"Teddy," he greets, and said man would turn and look at James for the first damn time this evening.
"Jamie," Teddy says, his free hand – the one that wasn't all tangled up with Victoire's – moving upwards to mess up his blue hair. "Hey mate. Didn't know you were going to be home."
James watches Teddy's slender fingers slip out of his hair and then watches his hand drop back down with careful, venomous eyes. They flash back to Teddy and James gives a crooked smile. He doesn't want to create stupid, indifferent facades anymore. Nothing made a difference.
"Yeah, well, I am."
His response isn't feeble. He says it as a strong, short, and blunt fact. Teddy frowns.
"It's good to see you," James continues, his smile slipping and eyes darkening as he fixed his gaze onto his cousin. "And you, Victoire."
Her name came out in an annoying drawl, but James supposes he is past caring. He gives them a final, sharp nod before turning and retreating to his room. James shuts the door with a considerable amount of force and goes to sit down at the edge of his bed. He stares down at the floor beneath his feet bitterly, muttering as he does so.
"Victoire, bloody one-eighth Veela Victoire."
James scoffs loudly and glared angrily at his wall.
"Perfect, smart, kind Victoire."
What did she do that was so great? What did she do to deserve Teddy?
Why didn't James?
It stings.