Questioning
If you would be loved, love, and be loveable.
~~Benjamin Franklin
Could this ever be enough? she asks herself as he smiles at her, the roses in his hand nearly perfect.
Nearly.
There's a subtle wilt in it, she being the only person in the world who could ever notice it. He laughs, blue hair like electricity, white teeth glinting.
C'mon, Victoire, he's telling her, eyes bright with love, adoring her.
He loves you, her mind keeps telling her, love him back.
And, by God, she wants to, honestly. But she can't- she just bloody can't- and it hurts, because she loves him, really, but not in the way he loves her, and really, why would he love her if they didn't belong? Why would he court her, and why would she agree to give him a chance if they weren't bloody perfect together?
Sometimes she thinks she knows the answer, if only for the fact that she used to hear her sister cry when she was fifteen, while she herself was in her last year, and she swears that kiss was the only one she ever truly felt, ever truly loved, and oh God, oh God, what has she done? And her sister, her sister now hates her, for having the man that loves her, thinks she loves him, and now she's so deep she's not sure she can escape, and- and-
Could this ever be enough? she sometimes asks herself, watching him as he sleeps, his hair his natural black- it's the Black in him, she used to say, teasing him, back when she loved him- and she knows that No, it isn't.
A/N: I'm not a big fan of Victoire/Teddy, so please refrain from reviewing with OMG that's so wrong!1!! Teddy and Vicky 4 lyffe!!1!11 anywhere in it.
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