nothing else matters
i've watched harry potter for years and even though i don't admit it, there's something there. i can't say i remember deciphering this during my years of observation. it certainly wasn't planned, let my assure you. loving a green-eyed boy everyone adores is a horror, a blasphemous thought as it would seem. it had been gradual but inevitable, falling ..
of course when you watch someone as obsessively as i have watched potter, it's really the only natural thing that can happen. admiring from a great distance at all the small things that make up the whole, also the blatant things that warn you of the differences and just how much you don't deserve that kind of care or attention.
more times than not he has caught me off my guard, i suppose that's where the arrogance and sadism come in, but more importantly, the malice. it is in my nature not only as a malfoy or pureblood, to be antagonistic towards something so pure. with slytherin pride held high, perhaps as high as my platinum-haired head, why should i bend and break for a gryffindor, the 'boy who lived?'
the day i came to terms with these unspoken emotions remain implanted within my mind so vividly as if it were yesterday. understand, i have been contemplating to share these thoughts and emotions that plagued every fiber of my body until his translucent image consumed me entirely. in some aspects you aren't the only one ..
it was the start of another school year, nothing but a habit to me as showering or dressing would be. another eventful year to look forward to as well as the sweet inebriate truth of being away from home and all that wait for me.
i had but a mere glance of a wild raven head before climbing aboard the scarlet engine: welcomed with a brief lot of oh-so happy slytherins and jubilant girls. after claiming a compartment i made sure to discard of crabbe and goyle, the large blokes.
it wasn't very long before who should join me, why none other than the golden boy himself. even if the brief disgust was overcome with such a raw hurt and heartfelt look that was almost unbearable to see, i found a certain satisfaction in knowing potter had been left just as i did crabbe and goyle, while his 'best friends' made for the guilty pleasure of being alone at last; i know that has to be the lucius in me. just the knowledge alone of knowing two, 'brave and honorable', gryffindors chose lust over their friend was inexplicable joy.
with narrowed orbs, oh how the arrays of fractured sunlight gives those eccentric green pools life, he hesitantly slipped inside with no where left to go. brave little red riding-hood wandering within the wolf's lair, hungry and desperate as he might be. minutes of silence, an unspoken intimacy i still cannot fully grasp, before he offered to buy from the rackety lunch cart coming our way.
such the gentlemen, polite even to his arch-rival. a few more words were exchanged, perhaps the expected insults or wisecracks, soon following the removal of his sweater that was replaced with a simple shirt and the upcoming school robes. i know i must have blushed by his actions or at least sat entranced for the time being. never in all my years have i ever seen the boy even half naked, what with the slytherin disadvantage while the weasel saw him everyday in surely almost every way.
i've watched harry potter for years and even though i don't admit it, there's something there. i can't say i remember deciphering this during my years of observation. it certainly wasn't planned, let my assure you. loving a green-eyed boy everyone adores is a horror, a blasphemous thought as it would seem. it had been gradual but inevitable, falling ..
of course when you watch someone as obsessively as i have watched potter, it's really the only natural thing that can happen. admiring from a great distance at all the small things that make up the whole, also the blatant things that warn you of the differences and just how much you don't deserve that kind of care or attention.
more times than not he has caught me off my guard, i suppose that's where the arrogance and sadism come in, but more importantly, the malice. it is in my nature not only as a malfoy or pureblood, to be antagonistic towards something so pure. with slytherin pride held high, perhaps as high as my platinum-haired head, why should i bend and break for a gryffindor, the 'boy who lived?'
the day i came to terms with these unspoken emotions remain implanted within my mind so vividly as if it were yesterday. understand, i have been contemplating to share these thoughts and emotions that plagued every fiber of my body until his translucent image consumed me entirely. in some aspects you aren't the only one ..
it was the start of another school year, nothing but a habit to me as showering or dressing would be. another eventful year to look forward to as well as the sweet inebriate truth of being away from home and all that wait for me.
i had but a mere glance of a wild raven head before climbing aboard the scarlet engine: welcomed with a brief lot of oh-so happy slytherins and jubilant girls. after claiming a compartment i made sure to discard of crabbe and goyle, the large blokes.
it wasn't very long before who should join me, why none other than the golden boy himself. even if the brief disgust was overcome with such a raw hurt and heartfelt look that was almost unbearable to see, i found a certain satisfaction in knowing potter had been left just as i did crabbe and goyle, while his 'best friends' made for the guilty pleasure of being alone at last; i know that has to be the lucius in me. just the knowledge alone of knowing two, 'brave and honorable', gryffindors chose lust over their friend was inexplicable joy.
with narrowed orbs, oh how the arrays of fractured sunlight gives those eccentric green pools life, he hesitantly slipped inside with no where left to go. brave little red riding-hood wandering within the wolf's lair, hungry and desperate as he might be. minutes of silence, an unspoken intimacy i still cannot fully grasp, before he offered to buy from the rackety lunch cart coming our way.
such the gentlemen, polite even to his arch-rival. a few more words were exchanged, perhaps the expected insults or wisecracks, soon following the removal of his sweater that was replaced with a simple shirt and the upcoming school robes. i know i must have blushed by his actions or at least sat entranced for the time being. never in all my years have i ever seen the boy even half naked, what with the slytherin disadvantage while the weasel saw him everyday in surely almost every way.
