Her crimson blood flowed over the black floor like wine from an overturned
bottle. It was warm and wet on my finger tips, the red clashing with the
pale white of my hands just like her ruby hair had.
Her body lay a few feet in front of me, cold and dead, lifeless, so unlike she was before. My beautiful Ginny. I felt a tear sliding down my cheek, the salty drop running down my face and landing on my lower lip. I hastily wiped it away, ashamed of this tangible badge of remorse. Malfoys' didn't feel remorse, not even for the ones they loved.
The dagger in my hand gleamed in the pale torchlight of the dungeon my beloved and I were in. It was cold in here, dampness in the air you could almost bite into. A drop of blood danced on the edge of the knife, flirting with the floor, remaining perilously close to falling, falling. Just like Ginny had, her body dead before it hit the floor.
It was her scarlet blood on the blade in my hand. There was nothing that could bring her back now, and I knew it. I had tried so hard, going against everything I had been taught to love her. She had gone against everything she had believed in to love me too. I hoped she forgave me. It didn't matter. Soon I would meet her in Hell, down below with the faceless demons, down below with my father, my mother, and anyone else bearing the Malfoy name. We were an accursed family, doomed to live like kings and die like warriors, existing in the next world as inferiors.
They had told me she was sick, that something was wrong with her, but there wasn't. Her only disease was reality, a sureness that she would die. They told me I could make her better. I couldn't take a stand, not when I would take her any way I could.
She had asked me to kill her. She had begged me, even. Ginny had a death wish, and I was her fairy godmother. Tonight was the night she wanted to die, and I made sure it was perfect.
We hid in the dungeons, a favorite place of hers. She was dressed in red silk and black lace, her head covered by a black veil. She looked like she was attending a funeral, and she was. She was attending her own. Her lips were painted a deep burgundy, her blue eyes lined with coal, though now it was smeared with tears. Resoluteness was in her eyes, but who wouldn't cry when they knew they were going to die?
She sauntered over to me little by little; a crooked smile on her lips, the smell of alcohol tainted the perfumed air around her. She pressed her body up against me, her face buried deep in my shoulder, delicate arms wrapped around my neck like a child clinging to their mother during a storm. Ginny wanted to be protected. I wanted to protect her.
Her unrestrained lips found their way slowly up my neck to my mouth, biting my lower lip softly. I laid feather light caresses along her jaw, tickling her with my tongue. A subdued moan escaped her painted lips, pleading with me to go further. Gladly I obliged, moving back to her mouth, kissing her genuinely.
Her small hands, with their long fingers and painted finger nails, ran through my tresses with abandon, her head slightly tilted back. I moved one hand to her waist, the other cupping her cheek.
"We have to stop this. You're a good girl Ginny, you don't want to die losing your virginity to a Malfoy.I love you to much to let you."
A slight nod. I held her in my arms, a lovers final embrace, and then I granted her wish. Her eyes fell closed, her body drifting through the air gracefully, her dress flaring around her, the veil slipping off her hair.
I picked up the veil, holding it tightly in one hand, drawing it close to my face, inhaling deeply the spicy scent of her hair. I eyed the dagger for a long moment, closing my eyes. I would have to grant my own wish.
Her body lay a few feet in front of me, cold and dead, lifeless, so unlike she was before. My beautiful Ginny. I felt a tear sliding down my cheek, the salty drop running down my face and landing on my lower lip. I hastily wiped it away, ashamed of this tangible badge of remorse. Malfoys' didn't feel remorse, not even for the ones they loved.
The dagger in my hand gleamed in the pale torchlight of the dungeon my beloved and I were in. It was cold in here, dampness in the air you could almost bite into. A drop of blood danced on the edge of the knife, flirting with the floor, remaining perilously close to falling, falling. Just like Ginny had, her body dead before it hit the floor.
It was her scarlet blood on the blade in my hand. There was nothing that could bring her back now, and I knew it. I had tried so hard, going against everything I had been taught to love her. She had gone against everything she had believed in to love me too. I hoped she forgave me. It didn't matter. Soon I would meet her in Hell, down below with the faceless demons, down below with my father, my mother, and anyone else bearing the Malfoy name. We were an accursed family, doomed to live like kings and die like warriors, existing in the next world as inferiors.
They had told me she was sick, that something was wrong with her, but there wasn't. Her only disease was reality, a sureness that she would die. They told me I could make her better. I couldn't take a stand, not when I would take her any way I could.
She had asked me to kill her. She had begged me, even. Ginny had a death wish, and I was her fairy godmother. Tonight was the night she wanted to die, and I made sure it was perfect.
We hid in the dungeons, a favorite place of hers. She was dressed in red silk and black lace, her head covered by a black veil. She looked like she was attending a funeral, and she was. She was attending her own. Her lips were painted a deep burgundy, her blue eyes lined with coal, though now it was smeared with tears. Resoluteness was in her eyes, but who wouldn't cry when they knew they were going to die?
She sauntered over to me little by little; a crooked smile on her lips, the smell of alcohol tainted the perfumed air around her. She pressed her body up against me, her face buried deep in my shoulder, delicate arms wrapped around my neck like a child clinging to their mother during a storm. Ginny wanted to be protected. I wanted to protect her.
Her unrestrained lips found their way slowly up my neck to my mouth, biting my lower lip softly. I laid feather light caresses along her jaw, tickling her with my tongue. A subdued moan escaped her painted lips, pleading with me to go further. Gladly I obliged, moving back to her mouth, kissing her genuinely.
Her small hands, with their long fingers and painted finger nails, ran through my tresses with abandon, her head slightly tilted back. I moved one hand to her waist, the other cupping her cheek.
"We have to stop this. You're a good girl Ginny, you don't want to die losing your virginity to a Malfoy.I love you to much to let you."
A slight nod. I held her in my arms, a lovers final embrace, and then I granted her wish. Her eyes fell closed, her body drifting through the air gracefully, her dress flaring around her, the veil slipping off her hair.
I picked up the veil, holding it tightly in one hand, drawing it close to my face, inhaling deeply the spicy scent of her hair. I eyed the dagger for a long moment, closing my eyes. I would have to grant my own wish.