Title: a chance
Author: regret
Disclaimer: not mine, jkr's.
Warning: slash. of the draco/ron persuasion at that…
A Chance
by regret
For savannah (chibiwhiteferret)
And I guess that I was willing
More than I ever was before
'Cause in a moment of forgiveness
I come a knockin' at your door
moment of forgiveness, indigo girls
KNOCK! KNOCK!
"Coming!" Shuffling can be heard on the other side of the door as I
wait, scared shitless, for *him* to open it.
"Ye-DRACO?!? What are *you* doing here?!"
It's been two whole seconds and he's already defensive. Not that it isn't my
fault.
"I've missed you." I say it simply and wish it all was.
"It's been two years, Draco. *Two*. *Years*." He rages, trembling
slightly.
What if he doesn't reach out and take my hand tonight?
"And?" I prompt. I'm well aware how much time has passed. Two years
of sleepless nights and dreamless days.
His face turns hard, reddening with furry, and I am forced to realize that
nonchalance may not have been for the best. "You haven't changed a bit.
Just as fucking arrogant and cold as ever."
He draws in a shocked gasp as my hand flies out, catching his wrist and
effectively preventing him from slamming the door in my face. My voice is
quiet, too quiet, as I say, "I was never cold Ron, *never*. You just
didn't care to feel my fire. And my 'arrogance' doesn't change the fact that I
*have* missed you, every. single. *second* since you left. Fuck, I missed you
before you were even gone."
He's paled and it does nothing for his calm beauty. I take these few silent
seconds to breathe him in. He still smells the same, nutmeg and wood and heat.
But his eyes are older, colder. More shut off, they don't glow like they used
to, whenever I was around.
"Ron, please..." I say, softly now, "This isn't what I came for.
This isn't what I want."
"Oh, and what *do* you want?" He asks, defensive again. It makes me
smile, albeit sadly. I can't help myself.
It's him.
"A chance." If only that were simple too. "A chance to set
things to rights. To close old wounds. You left Ron, and you never looked back.
Well, looking back's all I've done. And I'm tired. I need some kind of closure.
Even if you don't. You owe me that much, at least."
How I wish I didn't sound needy and lonely and wanting.
But I do.
And I am.
It's all I am anymore.
"I owe you..." He says slowly, off someplace else, thinking on my
too-honest words. He clears his throat to say, "Why don't you come in. Have
a cup of tea. We can...talk."
"I'd like that." And sparks of hope kindle in my belly.
