Another Draco/Ginny, to celebrate my listing SS as a D/G fic. It was formerly NP, and you know what that means. Yup. It means no one can find it. Since Draco/Ginny is my OTP and therefore, probably, the couple I'll end up drabbling most, I thought it'd be okay.For those D/Gs just joining up (because I'm sure you're out there), hullo and welcome! I hope you enjoy the fic, even if it's not all Draco/Ginny. Ta!
DracoxGinny: Just Another Sunday
She likes to watch him sleep. It's a silly, little habit, she knows. Sometimes, when she's sitting there, she feels like a stalker. Other times she feel like she means something. If she were his girlfriend, she could do this all she wants. It would seem natural. But she's not his girlfriend, and she doesn't ever expect to be. Because of that fact, for Ginny, it all seems so... silly. Silly to pretend that it matters, to be so enthralled with someone who hates her. Still, it isn't like that's stopping her.
She'd stumbled across him quite by accident, quite a while ago. She'd simply been walking along, enjoying the feeling of warm sun beating down on her bare feet and arms, reveling in the slight breeze had made it's way through her hair. And then she'd found him. It had struck her as terribly out of character, at the time. Of course, now, finding Draco Malfoy sunning in a clearing wasn't strange at all. She supposed he had come out there to study, because of the text book lying on his chest or because he didn't seem the type to enjoy a Sunday afternoon nap, she didn't know. And so she'd slipped away, content to let him catch up on some much needed sleep.
And that had been that. Or it should have been, would have been, if she'd just stayed away. If she hadn't come back, this wouldn't have become a habit. She really shouldn't do this, after all, she told herself. This whole thing was incredibly silly. But that's what she always thinks. And somehow, no matter how hard she tries, she ends up back here, curled up in a clearing and watching his chest fall up and down. She wonders what the allure is? Maybe it's because he does like terribly attractive like this, lying on the ground with robes discarded, hair slightly disheveled. Or maybe she just likes seeing him with his guard down. This is the only time she ever sees him with the walls down, defenseless. He looks so much younger when he's asleep, so very tired and lost.
She scoots closer, enjoying sitting next to him, pretending that there's something to this. It isn't as if she loves him. She doesn't, really. But when it's like this, everything changes. She can sit here and think, about him, about herself, everything. Maybe he chose this spot for the same reason. She doubts she'll ever get the chance to ask. After all, he won't ever know about all this. How could he? It isn't as if she plans on telling him about all this.
A piece of his hair's fallen into his eyes again, and she wants more than anything to reach out and brush it away. Her gaze falls on the rest of his face. She is always surprised at how very, very pale he is. How does he lie out here all afternoon and not get sunburned? She unconsciously leans in, trying to remember why she can't, wondering if his skin could possibly be as soft as it looks. Why did everything have to be so complicated? If she likes him, shouldn't she at least be given a chance? It's really so terribly unfair, falling for him. She wishes she could help it. This sort of feeling is incredibly strange, when it's directed at him. This sort of tenderness... is so...
Without even knowing she's doing it, Ginny finds herself leaning over him, softly brushing away that bothersome piece of hair, trailing her fingers across his skin. Suddenly she realizes what she's doing. Gasping, she looks down and finds herself staring into gray eyes, reflecting obvious amusement.
"Well, g'morning, Weasley."
4/12/05
