caress
//you can run from me
and you can hide from me
but i am right beside you
in this life//
//Chantal Kreviazuk
In This Life//
~/~
In one of the first times in Ginny Weasley's life, she was debating on whether or not to injure herself severely so she would not be able to go. It wasn't the fact that she was nervous - which she was - it wasn't the fact that she was scared - which she always was - it was the fact that this date was different than the rest. She would be going out with a guy from her past - and it seemed obscene to do so.
She tried on several different outfits. They all had flaws. One was too sluttish, another too conceptive, another too see-through, another with too many layers. It was an hour later that she settled for a white blouse, a black skirt that went just beyond her knees, and matching boots, and pulled her hair up. She looked classy, not too desperate, and she was comfortable, even though the boots felt like a thousand knives against her feet with each step she took.
When he picked her up around seven o'clock in the evening, she almost tripped over her own shoes - thankfully, he was looking the other way while that happened. He looked absolutely gorgeous, as usual of course. Casual appearance, his hair enveloping his forehead, his pants neither tight nor baggy, but black and fit around him comfortably like second skin, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, and he smelled of wine and ginger.
She yearned to be close to him, but threw away that yearning quickly as they entered the restaurant. When he pulled a seat out for Ginny, she took it as graciously as she could, and after they made their orders, complete silence filled between them.
"How have you been?" he finally asked, poised forward.
"Oh. Well, I've actually..."
The conversation started as dull and forced but grew more gentle and personal, the luminous light on the candle fading as the silence grew into more. He occasionally grazed her cheekbone, she frequently brushed a strand of silver-blonde that was falling over his eye, and she would blush, while he would occupy the embarrassment with a small sentence that made her laugh. What was relaxing them both were the enormous portions of the drinks they had. It made their minds numb and distraught, not able to think of the consequences of their actions, what they were doing or what they were saying.
"More vodka, I think?" Ginny asked, raising a suggestive eyebrow, and a timid smile stretched out in her mouth before she burst out in insane laughter, a line of wine dribbling from her chin and rolling into her neck.
"Yes, yes," he replied jovially, waving his hand dismissively, slurring his words, his foot sliding across hers, nudging her thighs apart. "One more bottle of vodka, then we go dancing!"
And to think - that extra bottle of vodka would change their lives.
~/~