Title: this is not for you; this is a revolution
Summary: Her hands were made to plea for him to stay. DominiqueTeddy, VictoireTeddy
Author's Note: THEY NEVER GET TOGETHER IN MY STORIES. I HATE MY LIFE. Also, a side note, I adore this vaguely asshole characterization of Teddy.
/
Her hands were made to plea for him to stay, he thinks.
It must be something about how white they are, unblemished, dainty, hands of a lady. Dominique is not any of these things, but her hands are, and this is why her mouth does not beg, but her hands do.
"She's not going to forgive you," she says, wringing her hands in his sheets. "She would rather burn the sky down than forgive you for this."
"I know," he mumbles, rising from his bed to get a cup of tea. "But isn't she worth burning for?"
His naked back glows in the darkness. She's left scratches there, fingernail marks she knows he'll cover up with charms until they heal.
"No," she whispers into the sheets when he is humming in the other room. "She's going to burn everything in sight."
When he comes back with two steaming mugs, his bed is empty. He drinks both cups, lights a cigarette, and thinks, At the wedding, she'll have to wear gloves.
/
After he tells Victoire, his bed is never empty.
But Dominique always has had a knack for finding him - ever since she was little, she has always managed to get him alone.
This time, she finds him at his local grocery, buying Victoire aspirin after a brutal migraine.
Dominique is sitting on the bench outside, smoking a cigarette, and laughs when she sees him come out with his plastic shopping bag, "God, don't you two remember you're wizards?"
"You know she likes Muggle remedies more," he says, following her lack of a proper greeting. "Says they help more."
Dominique rolls her eyes and Teddy remembers, once, telling her he liked when she did that. It hurts to see her do it now.
"She's just sending you on tedious errands until she can find a way to fuck you over and make you hers again," she smirks, stamping her cigarette on the ground, and hooking her arm in his.
Teddy wants to push her away - truly, he does, but he knows better and keeps his arm interlocked with hers, "You're probably right."
"I'm always right," she laughs. Suddenly, the smile playing on her lips drops, "But you're smart enough to know that. You're also smart enough to know you'll never be hers again - not really."
Teddy closes his eyes, "Maybe the ring will fix us."
Dominique comes close to his ear, "To which us are you referring?"
She laughs, unwinds herself from him, lights another cigarette, and walks home.
Teddy's knuckles turn white as he grips the plastic bag, fingernails tearing through the handles.
When he returns, Victoire tuts at the damaged bag and flips her hand to his face.
"These aren't the aspirin I like," she says before covering herself in his duvet.
"I forgot something else at the grocery," he says, after a while. "I also really need to get working on a project for work. Would you mind if I went to the office tonight?"
"I don't care what you do," Victoire whispers.
/
He fucks Dominique against her bedroom wall.
"What was the excuse?" she pants into his shoulder, those innocent hands making their way through his hair. "Work? Am I work, now?"
He grates his teeth together and she can hear the sound vibrate throughout her throat, "You've always been work, Dominique."
She laughs and makes him cum so hard he hears the faint crackling of fire.
When he's falling asleep in her sheets, she burrows herself into his skin. He wonders if he could compress her and nestle her into his bones, so he could keep her with him forever.
"I'm burning you," she says into his chest. "I'm the one worth burning for."
/
Victoire agrees to putting Dominique in gloves for the wedding. They're lace, old school, and they make Teddy's whole body erupt into flames.
Fleur gives a knowing look when she sees them laying on their kitchen table.
"Maybe the girl will finally understand what it means to be a lady," she says, looking at Teddy with distain.
/
"I'm not going to be her maid of honor," she tells him, when he's kissing her ribs, "I can't do that to myself, Teddy."
He draws himself up from her chest and looks at her, "Please. Do this one thing for her. It will kill her if you don't."
"Good," she says, closing her eyes. "I hate her. I hate her. I hate her."
It almost sounds like what she wants to say - three words, eight letters. Teddy kisses her full and long and Dominique's hands curl around his wrists.
"Please," he begs her. "Do it for me."
She starts to cry for the first time in seven years, for the first time since her grandparents passed away, and says, "I've been living my whole live for you. I've done everything for you, but I can't do this. I can't be like you two."
/
Dominique puts on the gloves and they're more beautiful on than anyone could have imagined.
Teddy kisses her hands when Victoire gets them tea from the other room.
"Thank you," he says, not meeting her eyes.
Dominique gulps, takes her hands away from him and folds them into her lap.
"This is not for you," she says, looking at them. "This is a revolution."
Victoire doesn't even pretend anymore when she enters the room again. She plops the tea onto the table and some overflows onto the wedding "Thank You!" cards.
Dominique throws her hands upward to avoid her gloves getting stained, but Teddy can't help but feel as if she's already surrendering.
"I hate silver, anyway," Victoire says, while Teddy and Dominique look at each other. "We'll have to get new ones."
/
"I would've asked you if you'd choose me, if you could, a long time ago," Dominique says into her teacup.
It's quiet for much too long.
"But I know there's no point in asking," she says, simply.
/
The night before his wedding, he shows up to her door, pissed out of his mind.
Her hair is wet and dark. She shivers when her bare skin makes contact with the cold. She pulls her towel tighter around her.
Teddy wrings his hands, gets on his knees.
"I would burn the world down for you," he slurs. "I'd start a thousand revolutions."
Dominique bites her lip, closes her eyes, and lets him in.
He gets into her bed before she says he can't and she stands in the doorframe for ten minutes, watching him look at her.
"I'm… I'm going to sleep on the couch tonight," she says, quietly.
Teddy crawls down the bed, gets on his knees once more, and extends his hands out to her.
"Please," he whispers.
Dominique smiles.
"I can't," she says, closing the door.
/
"I love you," Teddy says, into her collarbone.
Victoire smiles for the crowd of her family and friends.
"It's okay," she whispers. Her dress' jewels bite into his hands. "You don't have to pretend."
/
When he finds Dominique at the wedding, she's smoking a cigarette. The hand holding the cigarette is bare of a glove.
"I love you," Teddy says, after watching the cigarette burn out. "I always have."
Dominique smiles, crushes her cigarette underneath her foot, pulls on her gloves. "I know. But I think we're both smart enough to know who wins wars."
She raises her hands up and he kisses her one last time.
He whispers into her ear, "You could've overthrown her."
"I know," Dominique says, quietly. "But… I think I already did a long time ago."
/
Her hands were meant to start a revolution, he thinks.