Passion
By PepsiAngel
Disclaimer: The characters belong to JKR. I am back to writing as it is birthday season and, plus, I was told that I am too darned good to give it up. *feels head inflating*
Dedication: To She's a Star, in honor of her birthday, and her general coolness.
The way she felt when he held her in his arms was explosive, like millions of tiny fireworks going off inside her head. She never knew she was capable of such an emotion.
Being with him was like when she was a child and her brothers dared her to steal a sugar quill from the candy store. It was scary and wrong, but so exhilarating that she wanted to try it again.
A little sugar quill once in a while couldn't hurt.
One small kiss shared behind the greenhouse every now and then couldn't hurt.
But it wasn't just one small kiss, and it was never meant to be, either. The fervor wasn't something she could turn on and off the way she could her desire for sweets.
It was always there, burning right under the surface, threatening to bubble over at every glimpse of straw colored hair, every mention of his name.
Draco.
It sent a chill down her spine whenever she let those syllables roll off her tongue. The sound was sensual in a way no mere noise should ever be. She found herself aching for his touch each moment of the day.
And at those sacred times when finally they were embracing, she longed for more. Tentative kisses and tender hugs were no longer enough to satisfy her.
She desired the pressure of his mouth firmly upon her own and the rough touch of his hand on her chest, as much as she craved seeing him.
Her passion was going to get them in trouble one day, he always said.
She would smile coquettishly and tell him that without passion they would all be devoid of life.
He always secretly wondered when she had lost her bright-eyed naivety. He had been her first boyfriend (if you could call it that), he knew, without her ever telling him. She wasn't the same girl she was before, he knew, without her ever telling him. It went unsaid that something about both of them had changed.
Their relationship was built around the dangerous excitement of their physical attraction, not around words and confessions.
One night as his seventh year came to a close, and thus the end of their two-year rendezvous, he asked her out loud the question that had been on his mind for so long.
"When did you lose your innocence? You used to be so chaste and now you're the one pushing me."
She smiled, almost sadly, as she looked up at him. She had lost it long ago, far before she should have.
She didn't tell him this, however. It wasn't what he wanted to hear, she knew, and there was no point ruining the best thing she had when it was gradually dissolving before her eyes as it was.
"The day I first felt your arms around me," she lies. "The day you snogged me senseless than ignored me."
He'll miss her when it is over, but he knows this is the end. So, he kisses her, lightly, one last time.
There is no passion now.
"Good bye."