Title: Red

Author: SullenPlaything

Rating: PG-13 I suppose....

Summary: Draco really hates red.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, but if I did they'd be doing much more interesting things than fighting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named on a very frequent and regular basis.

Author's Note: I know it's really quite short and not very good but this would be my absolute first fic, so please don't flame me too badly. If you DO like it however, I've got a companion fic to it sitting all lonesome in a file by it's self, so if you tell me to I'll put it up. That's all then. Hope you like.

He hates red.
The color of the brave and true. The color that, paired with gold, represents everything he despises. The color of his hair. Fiery and brilliant, like a glowing flame. He hates the way it catches the light so differently than any other color; the way it shimmers. He hates that it's soft and free, the way his own white-blond locks never are. He hates the way it's thick and tousled, as though he's always just crawled from someone else's bed. He hates how he can spot it in a crowded classroom or the great hall, even on the pitch, instantly, his eyes drawn to it without thought. He hates the way it makes him feel flustered and hot, his mind filling with images of long pale limbs sprinkled with freckles and lazy afternoons spent tangled in sweaty sheets. Or of steaming hot showers full of slick, wet flesh, that bright hue subdued to a near black. He hates that instant anger and jealousy he feels when that flame glows even brighter beside raven locks. He hates that so much. And the way his blood crawls through his veins, boiling-hot, and his heart pounds, and he's instantly hot and heavy and hard. He hates the way he feels as though he's breaking, no-shattering- into a thousand pieces whenever that flame comes near. But he hates most of all that he loves red.