The Illusion of Permanence
a/n: sorry for the awfully short chapters, i'm still working on the whole thing.
disclaimer: it is my fervent wish that J.K. Rowling be a slasher. in the meantime, allow me to play with her characters while she decides whether to slash them or not. ^^v
warnings: this is just pg-13. basically just thoughts. draco pov, btw.
~~~~
Chapter 1:
We talked. And smoked. Every night, or every other night, we talked up at that same tower under the stars. Neither of us seemed to be able to lie nor be spiteful under the stars.
"Why do you think people hated me a lot?" I asked him one night.
"That's what you want them to see."
"It can be a bit lonely."
"That's true."
I was silent for a moment.
"You know, people respect you," he suddenly said.
I was stunned. "No, they don't."
"Yes they do," he insisted, "They know that one day you're going to rise above them all. However, they don't want to admit that to themselves, and pull you down and hate you. But they secretly respect and fear you."
I was able to share so many things to him, things I would not risk telling my housemates. Perhaps it was because he was an outsider, because I thought he could not fully comprehend the whole picture. He'll just take everything at face value, just shut up and listen.
But I was worried.
"Why do you listen to me?" I asked him.
He looked away for a moment, then shrugged that nonchalant shrug of his, and said, "I want to understand you."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're trying to find reasons behind my being an asshole? Perhaps uncover the so-called real deal behind Draco Malfoy? Find out he's not really bad and turn him over to the good side?"
He smiled. "Perhaps."
This was not an answer that I wanted. "Why should I trust you with the real deal anyway?"
He smiled again. "Because *I* trust *you.*"
It effectively shut me up. Most definitely because it made me think. Danger, danger.
I then asked him why he smoked, to shift the topic.
He noticed the move, but answered my question. With another question. "Is it a crime?"
I waved my hand, the one holding the cigarette, for emphasis, "It's not expected of you."
He sighed then, and I was surprised. "You don't have to put yourself in a box all the time, Draco. Learn to let go."
My eyes narrowed in thought. This man beside me was very *very* dangerous, because he was making me think.
~~~~
http://www.livejournal.com/users/kimichan/
a/n: sorry for the awfully short chapters, i'm still working on the whole thing.
disclaimer: it is my fervent wish that J.K. Rowling be a slasher. in the meantime, allow me to play with her characters while she decides whether to slash them or not. ^^v
warnings: this is just pg-13. basically just thoughts. draco pov, btw.
~~~~
Chapter 1:
We talked. And smoked. Every night, or every other night, we talked up at that same tower under the stars. Neither of us seemed to be able to lie nor be spiteful under the stars.
"Why do you think people hated me a lot?" I asked him one night.
"That's what you want them to see."
"It can be a bit lonely."
"That's true."
I was silent for a moment.
"You know, people respect you," he suddenly said.
I was stunned. "No, they don't."
"Yes they do," he insisted, "They know that one day you're going to rise above them all. However, they don't want to admit that to themselves, and pull you down and hate you. But they secretly respect and fear you."
I was able to share so many things to him, things I would not risk telling my housemates. Perhaps it was because he was an outsider, because I thought he could not fully comprehend the whole picture. He'll just take everything at face value, just shut up and listen.
But I was worried.
"Why do you listen to me?" I asked him.
He looked away for a moment, then shrugged that nonchalant shrug of his, and said, "I want to understand you."
I raised an eyebrow. "You're trying to find reasons behind my being an asshole? Perhaps uncover the so-called real deal behind Draco Malfoy? Find out he's not really bad and turn him over to the good side?"
He smiled. "Perhaps."
This was not an answer that I wanted. "Why should I trust you with the real deal anyway?"
He smiled again. "Because *I* trust *you.*"
It effectively shut me up. Most definitely because it made me think. Danger, danger.
I then asked him why he smoked, to shift the topic.
He noticed the move, but answered my question. With another question. "Is it a crime?"
I waved my hand, the one holding the cigarette, for emphasis, "It's not expected of you."
He sighed then, and I was surprised. "You don't have to put yourself in a box all the time, Draco. Learn to let go."
My eyes narrowed in thought. This man beside me was very *very* dangerous, because he was making me think.
~~~~
http://www.livejournal.com/users/kimichan/