I know, I know. "Novalee! Why don't you write anymore!" I am writing, I assure you. It's really the simple fact that I'm having to write on notebook paper and can't find the time to type it up. Sad, isn't it? I've only had these drabbles since December, you know. I hate to disappoint the hordes of readers for this fic. (Sarcasm doesn't translate well online, but, in case you're wondering, that was it.) Whatever. Anyone who is reading, enjoy! I admit, I am particularly fond of this one.
RonxPansy: The Art of Forgetting
It isn't love or lust or anything in between. It's just two lonely people trying, for a moment, to forget. He loves a girl who's too busy to notice. She loves a boy who's too cold to care. And for tonight, just for tonight, the loneliness is too much to bear. They cling to each other in ways they never imagined, both lonely, desperate souls. For a while, they can forget that he hates her and she despises him and this isn't anything close to real. That, when they wake up tomorrow, everything will be the same. But, for tonight, they can pretend. They can forget.
She smells like raspberries. He smells like cinnamon. The two scents mingle together, two smells that were never meant to mix, and yet, somehow, it works. His fingers wind their way into her hair as her lips trail across his cheek. He mumbles something incoherently as her cold fingers slide across the nape of his neck. For a moment, both pull away, staring at each other in a daze.
This isn't real. This isn't right.
Who cares?
She leans forward, pressing their lips together again. He gladly responds. Without speaking, they've both made a decision. It can't hurt to forget, just this once. Just tonight, they can pretend that it means something. She giggles, he smiles. Both settle in for a lesson in the art of forgetting.
1-27-05
