Disc. Not mine
Review or something, it's nice to get them. SLASH
"You are everything I am not; you have everything I want." "Well, you have me, so now it is yours."
~*~*~*~*~
Two:
~*~*~*~*~
I'm going to hate you forever, Oliver Wood. Forever. You sit there, without feeling it at all. I want to kiss you, Oliver, ravish you. And you sit there, unnoticing. If I could kill you I would, if only to end my countless years, days, hours, minutes of agony at the thought of you. I would never harm you, I know this, but it's nice in theory. Then again, without you I would still be trying to decide whether or not I really was into men. I have a lot to thank you for, Oliver, and I hate you for that. And I always will.
"Percy, you're doing that thing again." The simple sound of your voice throws me out of my own hatred over something I cannot have. I am pathetic.
"Doing what exactly, Oliver?" I know what I'm doing; we both know very well.
"Over-thinking, and you know it." You're irritable now. You hate repeating things, especially when we both know them to be true.
"Am I not allowed to think now, Oliver? Do I have to forget to do so as you do?" That was a low shot and we both know it. I hate it when you do that, that face. That emotion. I hate emotions, for the simple reason that mine are ridiculed. And yours, yours are honored. I hate you for that. And there you are, looking disappointed in me - me! How dare you make me care that you aren't happy. But I do care. I care about you, the way you feel, and whether or not you smile. Please smile. For the love of whatever God you told me believed in, smile. I hate this agony you cause me. But I don't hate you. Could never hate you. And I hate you for that as well.
You ignore me now. Go back to your precious stratagems, Oliver. That game is too much to you. You will not sleep tonight, I know. You don't sleep before matches; oh yes, you try, but you still never sleep. Most times you simply go into the common room at two when I choose to retire, so as to leave me to sleep.
I look at the clock. One in the morning. So early? I am already tired now. Tired of looking at you. For a while I thought you had liked me, flirted even. But after a while I realized I was either imagining it or it stopped happening. But that would mean that it had actually happened in the first place. And I don't really believe either possibility.
I can see you yawn; you are so tired. You will crash directly after the match; most days my brothers carry you up here from the common room. But today, you yawn again. You never yawn twice before two in the morning. Never.
I feel slightly maternal when I walk over to you and take the book from your grasp. You begin to question my motives, but I soon quiet you with my reasons. I pull you to your feet and shove you onto your bed. "Percy, I won't fall asleep, you know," you protest.
"I know, Oliver, you never do. But you will tonight or you'll faint from exhaustion as soon as the snitch is caught." You scowl at me; you hate to admit it, but I'm right.
"How so?" I don't even bother to answer as I climb into your bed after discarding my shirt. You are rigid for a moment and I start to regret this. But as soon as I turn the lights out, you relax. You try, I'll grant you, you really do. But at four I feel you stir, and I wake from the movement.
"Sorry, Percy, you tried." And now you are disappointed in yourself. I hate that. You haven't got a reason to be. You were always everything I wanted, wanted to be, wanted to have.
"I want to be you, Oliver." I am probably more startled than you at the realization that I had said it out loud.
"Why, Percy? What for?"
You're doing that insecure thing again. I hate that. "I envy you, Oliver." You sit up slightly and I turn to you. I can feel you on my skin. And you feel it too, I know. We fit together perfectly. It's kind of funny, that as I am the one who is so in love with you, that you should be the one to make the first move. I swear I will remember this kiss for the rest of my life. You taste like mint and cinnamon, but I can't be sure why.
Whenever a decision arises, I have always weighed the possibilities of the situation and chosen the track that I would best be able to control myself on. This time, however, I think I will pick the other path. After all, I'm a little tired of being in control. With this realization, I kiss you again. And again, and again, and again.
The tenth time I kiss you, you yawn half way through it. I can't help but laugh. This is all I ever wanted. "You are everything I am not; you have everything I want." You look at me really hard when I say this. I'm not sure where it came from, somewhere deep inside me. Even more surprising than what I said is what you respond with.
"Well, you have me, so now it is yours."
I could cry, I really could. But I don't. Instead, I settle for holding you. In a mere half an hour, you are asleep, for the first time before a match, you sleep. Because of me.
And I could never hate you for that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Review or something, it's nice to get them. SLASH
"You are everything I am not; you have everything I want." "Well, you have me, so now it is yours."
~*~*~*~*~
Two:
~*~*~*~*~
I'm going to hate you forever, Oliver Wood. Forever. You sit there, without feeling it at all. I want to kiss you, Oliver, ravish you. And you sit there, unnoticing. If I could kill you I would, if only to end my countless years, days, hours, minutes of agony at the thought of you. I would never harm you, I know this, but it's nice in theory. Then again, without you I would still be trying to decide whether or not I really was into men. I have a lot to thank you for, Oliver, and I hate you for that. And I always will.
"Percy, you're doing that thing again." The simple sound of your voice throws me out of my own hatred over something I cannot have. I am pathetic.
"Doing what exactly, Oliver?" I know what I'm doing; we both know very well.
"Over-thinking, and you know it." You're irritable now. You hate repeating things, especially when we both know them to be true.
"Am I not allowed to think now, Oliver? Do I have to forget to do so as you do?" That was a low shot and we both know it. I hate it when you do that, that face. That emotion. I hate emotions, for the simple reason that mine are ridiculed. And yours, yours are honored. I hate you for that. And there you are, looking disappointed in me - me! How dare you make me care that you aren't happy. But I do care. I care about you, the way you feel, and whether or not you smile. Please smile. For the love of whatever God you told me believed in, smile. I hate this agony you cause me. But I don't hate you. Could never hate you. And I hate you for that as well.
You ignore me now. Go back to your precious stratagems, Oliver. That game is too much to you. You will not sleep tonight, I know. You don't sleep before matches; oh yes, you try, but you still never sleep. Most times you simply go into the common room at two when I choose to retire, so as to leave me to sleep.
I look at the clock. One in the morning. So early? I am already tired now. Tired of looking at you. For a while I thought you had liked me, flirted even. But after a while I realized I was either imagining it or it stopped happening. But that would mean that it had actually happened in the first place. And I don't really believe either possibility.
I can see you yawn; you are so tired. You will crash directly after the match; most days my brothers carry you up here from the common room. But today, you yawn again. You never yawn twice before two in the morning. Never.
I feel slightly maternal when I walk over to you and take the book from your grasp. You begin to question my motives, but I soon quiet you with my reasons. I pull you to your feet and shove you onto your bed. "Percy, I won't fall asleep, you know," you protest.
"I know, Oliver, you never do. But you will tonight or you'll faint from exhaustion as soon as the snitch is caught." You scowl at me; you hate to admit it, but I'm right.
"How so?" I don't even bother to answer as I climb into your bed after discarding my shirt. You are rigid for a moment and I start to regret this. But as soon as I turn the lights out, you relax. You try, I'll grant you, you really do. But at four I feel you stir, and I wake from the movement.
"Sorry, Percy, you tried." And now you are disappointed in yourself. I hate that. You haven't got a reason to be. You were always everything I wanted, wanted to be, wanted to have.
"I want to be you, Oliver." I am probably more startled than you at the realization that I had said it out loud.
"Why, Percy? What for?"
You're doing that insecure thing again. I hate that. "I envy you, Oliver." You sit up slightly and I turn to you. I can feel you on my skin. And you feel it too, I know. We fit together perfectly. It's kind of funny, that as I am the one who is so in love with you, that you should be the one to make the first move. I swear I will remember this kiss for the rest of my life. You taste like mint and cinnamon, but I can't be sure why.
Whenever a decision arises, I have always weighed the possibilities of the situation and chosen the track that I would best be able to control myself on. This time, however, I think I will pick the other path. After all, I'm a little tired of being in control. With this realization, I kiss you again. And again, and again, and again.
The tenth time I kiss you, you yawn half way through it. I can't help but laugh. This is all I ever wanted. "You are everything I am not; you have everything I want." You look at me really hard when I say this. I'm not sure where it came from, somewhere deep inside me. Even more surprising than what I said is what you respond with.
"Well, you have me, so now it is yours."
I could cry, I really could. But I don't. Instead, I settle for holding you. In a mere half an hour, you are asleep, for the first time before a match, you sleep. Because of me.
And I could never hate you for that.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~