AU!

Book Club: How The King of Elfhame Learned to Hate Stories

Prompts:

(emotion) loneliness

Word Count: 778

Although strangers—and friends—surrounded him, Viktor had never felt more alone in his life. Standing there near the drinks table, watching people dance to the thrumming music, loneliness was a vice on Viktor's heart, squeezing with just enough pressure to be a constant pain. It was supposed to be a happy occasion. Gabrielle Delacour was getting married. But the thoughts of never experiencing the kind of love that was written about in fairytales killed him every day just a little bit more, taking what was once his inner light and replacing it with a kind of darkness that overshadowed each moment he lived. Loneliness was the fuel of Viktor's nightmares, the reason he struggled to breathe whenever he saw someone happy.

All his life, Viktor had ventured out alone in the world. Although thousands of people loved him, Viktor was sure they only cared for his fame. For when Viktor had been a nobody, no one had liked to spend their time with the surly Bulgarian. As time went on, loneliness felt more like solitude, for he had found ways to cope with it. Yet to have the real company of someone who truly loved him—and not the Quidditch player he was—that would have been sweet indeed.

A couple danced past him, the woman dressed in a deep burgundy dress that billowed around her knees, and Viktor was suddenly reminded of dancing with his long-lost love. He sipped on the champagne and watched the woman with a forlorn look in his eyes.

And as he watched the woman, her face seemed to transform in front of his eyes. Her straight black hair became glorious brown curls that swayed with every step she took. Her eyes changed to a beautiful shade of brown, the same shade Viktor saw in his dreams every night. Her thin lips turned fuller, plump, and Viktor's heart ached at the thought of never tasting them again.

"Is she an ex-girlfriend?" a soft, feminine voice said from beside him, and Viktor was suddenly hit with nostalgia at the sound. I'm going mad if I can hear her voice everywhere.

"No, only reminds me of someone," he muttered under his breath. He had to yank his gaze away from the woman to look at the person standing beside him. And Viktor's heart began to beat erratically.

For beside him stood the woman he'd been dreaming about. His first and only love.

Her hair was tied in a side ponytail, the brown curls covering her left shoulder. A simple diamond necklace complemented the deep purple dress that hugged her curves. Her makeup was light as always, yet she always managed to look so elegant and classy.

"Hermione." He breathed out her name as though it was a prayer. And for him, it was. He had whispered her name every morning and night, praying he could see her again. That she'd fill the hole in his heart. Hermione had been the only one to see him for who he was. Just a scared boy desperate for love.

"Hello, Viktor," she murmured, her cheeks tinging pink at the covetous look in his eyes. "How are you?"

"You…" Viktor swallowed, trying to clear his throat. His voice came out huskier than usual. "You're here, moyata lyubov?"

Hermione licked her lower lip, and Viktor's eyes darkened even more. "The groom—Ernie—is an old classmate and he was part of the DA, too. But I… I didn't expect to see you here."

"I wasn't coming, but Gabrielle wished for me to enjoy myself," he said, still gazing at her.

"Are you? Enjoying yourself, I mean," Hermione asked curiously.

"Now that you're here, yes," he answered honestly.

He couldn't believe his eyes. The one woman he desired more than anyone—or anything—in the world was right there in front of him. It couldn't be a coincidence. After all, they hadn't spoken in the past four years. He had danced with her at Fleur's wedding but lost sight of her once the Death eaters had attacked.

"It's nice to see you here, Viktor," she said, her head lowered. Glancing up at him through her eyelashes, she murmured, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," he whispered, stepping closer to her. He swallowed and offered her his hand. "Would you like to dance with me, Hermione? For old time's sake."

Hermione smiled and said, "Of course, Viktor. I'd love to."

As they made their way into the middle, Viktor glanced down at her hand. Her blue nail polish was slightly chipping at the corners, but Viktor thought it was perfect. She was imperfectly perfect, and if Viktor was brave enough this time around, he wouldn't let her go.

Moyata Lyubov: my love.