Chapter 26: Resolution
Minutes earlier...
Momentarily prying his eyes from the captivating sight of Ginny Weasley in dress-up, Blaise looked up and, by chance, spotted a flock of Seventh Year girls by one of the large windows to the lake. Amidst their chatting heads he recognized Paloma's dirty-blonde hair and snub-nosed profile.
Well, he might as well get this over with, and he felt sober enough to deal with it. With an inward sigh, he ditched the far more interesting company of Red (notwithstanding her ill-chosen chaperone for the evening) and made his way across the room.
Approaching the group, most of them had – like a flock of bloodhounds – already sniffed out his coming from a distance and shot him everything from dirty to apprehensive and curious looks. Meanwhile, Paloma studiously ignored him.
Hm. How predictable.
"Paloma," he addressed her dispassionately, giving up the pretense. "A word?" Paying no heed to the slighted stares from the other girls, he patiently waited for a reaction of some kind (preferably the workable kind) from the former Hufflepuff.
"What, Blaise?" she snarled in his general direction.
He pursed his lips. "Privately?" When she simply sent him a pointed glance, he lifted his eyebrows. "Please."
The girl looked towards her friends, who answered with a variety of suspicious, questioning looks, before she omitted a dramatic sigh, apparently relenting.
"Alright, fine."
Well, 'privately' was a bit optimistic put. They settled for walking a couple of steps away and out of earshot from the other girls.
"Look, Podsworth –"
"Don't call me that, Blaise!" She turned on him, glowering. "It's not a business transaction. Would you drop the act?"
He gritted his teeth. "Fine. I apologize for my behaviour. What more do you want from me?"
"Gods, Blaise! You really are a novice at this, aren't you? Saying sorry? Admitting to it?"
His lips thinned, having had about enough. "Will you stop it," he hissed under his breath. "I'm ending this. For good."
"Well, isn't that something!" the girl raved. "Just wait; one day you'll come crawling back and ask for it again. Don't think I don't know how you operate, Blaise! I swear I'll–"
"Why, Podsworth! You're here, too?!" An overly cheerful voice made both their heads snap towards its owner. Ginny Weasley, of all people, appeared through the crowd with a baffled Head Boy in tow. "Isn't that funny?" the redhead continued brightly. "I was just talking to Attwater here about you, because neither of us could find any of you –," she let out a low pfft, tossing her flaming locks over one shoulder with a casual gesture to their surroundings (if Blaise's hadn't been so stunned by her sudden interruption, he would have commented on her theatrics) as she carried on with a passive-aggressive sweetness that would have rivalled that of Pansy Parkinson's, "but then I remembered you used to date my boyfriend, and guess what? Here you are – talking to him!" Her caramel eyes swivelled directly to Blaise's with such a force that all he could do was to stare dumbly at her.
Boyfriend?
What the hell was she up to?
"Um... what?" Paloma said, glancing back and forth between Ginny and Blaise, wholly confused, and he didn't blame her. They all looked at Ginny like she'd sprouted a second head.
The latter just kept smiling, regarding them with a smooth expression. Beside her, Clarence fidgeted, obviously being put on the spot. However, from the way his eyes kept darting towards Paloma, Blaise at least gathered that the Head Boy wasn't entirely uninvolved in the charade.
"Well?" Weasley prompted innocently. "What were you two talking about all the way over here? Nothing serious, I hope?"
Paloma scowled, likely having a hard time believing Ginny was in earnest about her liaison with Blaise, her voice hard as flint. "I guess we were about done here. Weren't we, Blaise?"
He shrugged, frankly relieved. "I guess."
With a tightening to her lips, the girl gave a small huff. Ginny wondered if Paloma – in all her demonstrativeness – was even aware how she had turned infinitesimally in the direction of the Head Boy. However, none of them said anything. They just stood there, looking at anything but each other.
Right. Change of tactics.
"How funny that we had each other's partners this whole time, isn't it?" Ginny winked at Clarence whose ears turned pink, and Paloma looked questioningly towards the Head Boy. Blaise merely cocked an incredulous eyebrow at Ginny's faux guise which she promptly ignored.
She smiled sweetly towards Paloma, nudging Clarence forward and, at the same time, stepping up to Blaise with an intimate familiarity that raised his eyebrow even higher, grabbed his arm and tugged him towards a nearby armchair with little resistance. Before Blaise knew it, she had placed him in it – with herself comfortably perched on his lap.
"Anything else?" She turned her head halfway towards the others with a coolly expectant mien. They both just gaped.
Gee. As if everybody in this room haven't already imagined and gossiped about us 'doing it' for ages now, Ginny growled in her mind, careful to keep her mask in place.
Meanwhile, Blaise was having trouble distracting himself from the way her body was now pressed against his; pert bum situated in his lap, a warm hand against the nape of his neck and legs dangling over one armrest. He wouldn't call her an excellent actor but she was quick on the uptake. He had to give it up for her Slytherin wiles. And if it was a show she wanted in order to get rid of them, he'd gladly give her a show.
"So," Clarence trailed off in the background, "how did... this come about?" clearly perplexed to witness two former enemies suddenly in the arms of each other. Paloma most of all looked like she wanted to make herself scarce.
With his foggy brain on standby, smug satisfaction crept into Blaise. "Well," he drawled languidly from his position in the chair, only partly aware that his hand had travelled down Red's side, taking pleasure in the mild and likely involuntary shudder he elicited, before it came to rest lightly on her behind. She shot him a glance, barely able to hide her startled reaction. "I guess I just came to realize I had been an arse to everyone undeserving, and Weasley here was the only one able to knock some sense into me."
Blaise returned her stare steadily, one corner of his lips curved up at the end, punctuated by a reassuring thumb caressing her hip in languorous strokes.
Ginny didn't have the energy to feel aggravated by the satisfaction he took from this. She had initiated it, after all. But she hadn't expected him to give in to the play-act so quickly. Hell, she hadn't expected herself to give into it with so little effort. There was a familiarity with which they slipped into the roles; the way he held her that sent her mind and senses reeling. She felt, at the same time, tense and relaxed; having no clue what to do next and also perfectly content with her current position. And something about his tone of voice told her he wasn't bluffing about the truth behind those words. His eyes, fixated on hers, held a glint in their depths, like a precious stone hiding at the bottom of a creek.
"Let bygones be bygones?" she added in a light flirtatious banter, though her words were no less true, and she hid the tremulous smile threatening to emerge. His shrewd eyes caught the action nevertheless and, unknowingly, she bit her lip, hand anchored at his neck, as she watched his gaze give way for a darker emotion. Having completely forgotten about their surroundings and eventual onlookers, instead focused in on the strange intent in his eyes, she felt a pull towards him, mirroring his, the rapid beat of a pulse, a humming in her veins, nerves prickling towards the edge of where she stopped and he began. She couldn't tell any longer. He hadn't taken his eyes from her, his breath mingling with hers, brushing her skin, before his lips pressed against hers, connecting in an answer to something they had both asked for a long time. Alcohol thrummed in her system, her skin buzzing lethargic and painfully aware of the exposure of his bared arms, the sturdy feel of his chest. It shouldn't be so easy... 'just like that' for her to give in. He was still a bigot. A stupid, womanizing arse. Insufferable Slytherin... wedged into her life and hers to–
Her fingers seemed to have their own lives and followed the long, defined lines of his muscles; the firm warmth of his skin threatening to burn her up. Grapping hold of her clothed back, he pressed her closer into his mouth, humming pleasantly in the back of his throat, feeling the vibrations from their aligned upper bodies. Soon she found herself having shifted position, straddling him, never breaking the rhythm. Drawing back to finally come up for air, she found herself unable to tear her eyes away from his, falling deeper and irrevocably into...
She hesitated for a split-second, about to say something, anything, though she had no idea what she could possibly say, when she was stopped by his hand lifting to the side of her face, a feather-like stroke against her cheek. The action pulled her from the trance, like the snap of a string, momentarily freezing and sending a spike of awareness into them both. His eyes widened, and she pulled away and stumbled out of the chair, quickly standing up along with him. Taking a step back, she rubbed her palms against her thighs, as if trying to rub the buzzing nerves out of her skin. Standing there, staring at each other, their surroundings came back to them in beat with their pulses; the indistinct chatter, the dense air, the shifting lights and the blare of the music. Around them the partygoers filled every space imaginable, drunkenly stumbling across each other, whooping and laughing. Yet, all of that had blurred into the background. For an unshakable moment they had completely forgotten about their surroundings.
Paloma and Clarence had gone.
How long had it been? It could be seconds or minutes. An hour?
Had anyone else taken notice of them?
Cheeks burning, she opened and closed her mouth, coming up short. Blaise seemed guarded though there was a raw emotion hovering in those dark and usually glacial orbs as he observed her.
She could still feel the searing pressure of his lips and arms against her.
What is he waiting for?
She couldn't take this. Couldn't stand being in the room any longer.
"I –" Her voice came out hoarse and she briefly closed her eyes. "I-I think I need some air." Flailing and turning on her heels, she walked straight into the moving mass of people, staggering slightly.
"Hey– wait –" Ginny heard his baritone voice call out, a rough edge to it and she shivered. Its effect made her frown as she weakly pushed past people.
"I'm not drunk," she slurred, mostly to herself, and pouted in determination.
"Yes, you are." She gasped. Zabini, apparently having followed behind, exhaled softly through his nose and walked up to her. "Here." He held her arm steady to guide her the rest of the way out through the crowd. Every throbbing beat of her pulse felt like she was underwater (which, given the location, was quite literal), every nerve in her body painstakingly aware of Zabini's tall presence beside her. She hoped he wasn't expecting a continuation outside, but even through her muddled senses he seemed at a more heedful distance. Besides, she couldn't exactly deny him to get some air as well. He looked like he needed it.
Due to the pressing crowd, they were momentarily blocked near the entrance. Nearby, two Sixth Year boys were vigorously making out with each other and Blaise must have caught sight of them too. He met her eyes for a moment. Ginny flushed and quickly looked away.
Once outside, she ripped her arm out of his light grip, stumbling a bit in the process which prompted him to reach for her again.
"Will you stop that?" she snapped, voice wobbling. Her brown eyes glistened as she looked pointedly away.
He stopped. He had only followed her because... well, because she could barely walk, and he didn't know what else to do. Honestly, he felt stifled inside that room anyway.
Taking her in, he swallowed, feeling the sudden urge to cub her cheek again, and, this time, run a thumb over her soft lower lip, hear her sharp intake of breath...
"Don't do that," came her small voice. He blinked and focused in on her eyes again, unable to determine the expression they held: Hopeful? Apprehensive? Regretful? All of them?
"Do what?" he asked.
"Don't look at me like that."
There was a beat, his eyes drifting to her mouth again.
"What if I want to?" he breathed in quiet admittance, surprising himself by how the cluttered feeling inside wasn't unequivocally lust and drunkenness. She heard him nonetheless; her eyes widening as he lifted his own to fix them on hers. "Don't you?"
Bewildered, she studied his face but she could find no arrogance, no coldness there; the layered question echoing, suspended in the air:
Don't you?
"I see you two are at it again," a familiar, jaded voice interrupted, jolting them from whatever spell had formed between them. "Why am I not surprised?"
"Teddy?" Blaise looked up to see his friend coming towards them. "What are you doing here? I thought you were in London?"
Pausing beside him, Theo gave a careless shrug, a slight grimace to his face. "Yeh, well, Muggle London can be frightfully sordid, you know?"
Puzzled to what he referred to, Ginny looked over at Blaise who, in turn, observed his friend with a pensive expression.
"Well, see ya," Theo saluted and walked on.
Blaise stepped forward. "Theo, hold up. I need to talk to you–"
Raising a hand without turning back, Theo waved him off and disappeared around the corner, leaving Blaise staring after him in chagrin.
Why is he being so difficult?
"Is... he okay?"
He turned his head back to Ginny. There was a small frown of concern marring her brow as she moved her eyes back to Blaise. Quite on instinct, he wanted to lift a hand to gently smooth over her freckled brow. A warm sensation flooded his stomach (maybe it was the alcohol?) at the thought of her closing her eyes and savouring his touch, likely not fully aware of her action. Remembering how her lips had felt against his just minutes ago, he withheld his hand.
"I hope so." A question started forming in her eyes but he merely shook his head. "You should probably go to bed. It's been a long night."
She regarded him a while longer, then finally relented and turned towards the direction of her quarters. Pausing and looking back over her shoulder, she met his gaze.
"'Night, Blaise."
He nodded. "'Night," he said and watched her go. ...Ginny.
A/N: Here it is, at long last: A small piece of some much awaited fluff for my dear readers. Hopefully it has sated some of your thirst *winks*. Thank you for your perseverance. Until next time.