Hate by InTheStars

Rating: PG
Genres: Angst
Relationships: Draco & Ginny
Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5
Published: 17/12/2004
Last Updated: 17/12/2004
Status: Completed

She wishes she hated him. It is what she desires, to feel that pitching, consuming hatred
devouring her and leaving no room for anything more.




1. Hate
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**Title**: Hate
**Author**: Crystal
**Summary**: She wishes she hated him. It is what she desires, to feel that pitching, consuming
hatred devouring her and leaving no room for anything more.
**Dedication**: To Daniela and Sandra, two cool Californians.

-

She wishes she hated him.

With a disdainful glance and crimson anger, a slow burning mingling with emotions and feelings
conjured and settling. A drug that attracts the victim, a heady, powerful elixir that slides
thickly down throats and leaves one thirsty, starving for more.

It is what she desires, to feel that pitching, consuming hatred devouring her and leaving no
room for anything more.

She doesn't want to love him. She closes her eyes at night to the red hangings that adorn
her bedside and she sees his face. Pointed chin, piercing silver-grey eyes and a frightful smirk
that beckons her, stops her in all reason and logic and lures her.

She'll hear his voice at the most unlikeliest times- that soft, silky drawl that breathes
like touches on her skin. Demanding, taking her will and bending it to please him, a terrible power
to wield. And she lets him, placing her delicate being in his smooth hands and praying. Praying to
a God she doesn't believe in- that he will not break her with those sharp, biting words he
spews.

The way he touches her imprints itself unto milky, freckled skin, a dirty mark he leaves to
claim. His fingertips will circle and stroke and love her, a horrible misconception, a mirage of
caring she would do without, if only she could. She'll remember and sigh into the memory of his
skin against hers, shamefully shuddering with sin and guilt.

When he kisses her, she wants to die. To lay down and sleep forever and ever and never have to
face the world and sights without him. When he kisses her, she can't breathe or think or live,
for he sucks from her the very will that keeps her going. He molds her and takes her deep inside
the core of himself to play with as he sees fit.

When he kisses her, she can't stand loving him, knowing with every kiss he is ever so closer
and yet still so far. She wonders, watching his movements, hearing and feeling and kissing, if he
ever would love her back.

She was always just a game to him, a set up board with its players and its pawns to manipulate
and move. If only he'd put down his guards and sneers and insults and love her, the pitiful,
lowly woman he uses for his own sick, twisted pleasure. That is her secret, the pathetic, horrible
truth that she clings to, cinnamon eyes softening at his form.

She wishes she hated him, that she *could* hate him.

And she doesn't want to love him, but she does.

-end-



