Love, Hate, Girls (Blaise/Ron PG)
Title: Love, Hate, Girls
Author: Dana-chaaan.
Rating: PG
Prompt Set: 50.4
Prompt: 05. Hatred
Word Count: 1259
Warning: Slash, Cursing
Summary: The perfect way to go around jealousy: act like your interested in the same girl.
Note: Well, real-life events! :) Only without the kiss or the accepting the crush. Hahah.
Begins.
It was strange how it happened; I can't even really remember. One day, we were Slytherin and Gryffindor, mortal enemies, sidekicks of the rivals. Then we called a rocky truce, mainly because the real enemies had gotten tired of the petty fights and ridiculous quarreling. We had no reason to see each other, or talk to each other, or befriend each other, but we did. Eventually we started seeing each other everywhere, we started talking to each other, we befriended each other. It was a mutual thing; it was a good thing.
But that also meant I was the back-up friend on days like this.
When Hermione and Harry had left him to his research and wondered off somewhere they didn't bother to reveal, Ron found me. He grumbled about them, complained about them, and pitifully whined about them. Being the Slytherin I am, I should've made fun of him and teased him and used this information against him. But this bloody truce and this bloody friendship caused me to bite my tongue and say nothing.
So we sat at the table in the far back of the library, right by the window, as Ron whined and I worked. He hadn't even touched his homework; he'd only been babbling nonstop. It was rather annoying, but I tuned him out eventually and settled back into the book. Until he suddenly stopped talking and started drooling a little. Very attractive, right?
"Blaise, check her out," he nudged me in the shoulder and I saw the girl he was looking at. No clue what her name was, what house she was in, what year she was in, or anything important. But he had the longest pair of legs I'd even seen, light brown hair, and a slim, feminine body. She was absolutely, positively not my type. But apparently she was Ron's.
"What's to check out?" I muttered back and ended up with an astounded face openly gaping at me. "What?"
"She's stunning," he said, a line I'd heard quite a couple of times.
I ignored that little burn in my chest and pushed down my own feelings. My little secret, my vile little secret, was going to be the death of me one day. Liking Ron Weasley definitely wasn't something I looked forward to every day. On the contrary, it was bloody aggravating. Especially at times like this when I was painfully reminded he liked girls and only girls. Ones with long legs, curvy frames, soft features, and light brown hair. That was his weakness.
But I had worked around this problem many times. The trick was to pretend you liked the girl as well. Say it half-honestly, half-mockingly and it worked like a charm. Sometimes he'd laugh, other times he'd nod in agreement, but he never noticed me staring at her with pure hatred. And that was definitely a good thing.
"Oh, oh, you mean her," I pretended I was looking at the wrong girl. He laughed and nudged me in the arm. "She is stunning; look at those legs." And off he went.
--
I sighed into my notes. It had been a week since I last saw Ron at the library. Who knows what happened after I said goodbye and left him alone at the library. I had gotten tired of talking about that girl and other girls. Ron didn't, apparently, and a couple minutes before I left he kept looking at me funny. I can't quite explain it, but it definitely made me want to punch him in the face.
"Blaise!" Oh, speak of the devil! I turned around to see Ron walking toward me. It was the only study period we shared in the whole week. I offered a small smile, something that really wasn't that strange, and let him catch up to me. He started talking about how Harry and Hermione had abandoned him a couple of times during the week and the complaining began.
But something was off today. And his, "Whoops, I'm rambling," only furthered my suspicion.
We walked outside, neither one of us talking at all, and stopped. He smiled broadly and motioned to a girl a couple of feet away. "She's cute," Ron whispered, hand covering his mouth and all. I looked over her and felt my eyebrow raise. She wasn't anything like the girls Ron had mentioned before. She was kind of short, a bit on the pudgy side, and had sleek black hair. I laughed a little before looking at Ron, picking up my pace.
"She is rather attractive," I started out, "Cute face." I glared at the girl, knowing Ron would be looking at her too, and felt comforted by the small fact that he was still walking next to me.
"You say that," Ron's voice was disbelieving, rather accusing, and his eyes were on me. I could feel those blue eyes digging into the side of my head. It was strangely painful and strangely pleasant. Maybe I was a masochist on some level? I laughed a little, of course I was if I pretended to like all the girls he liked. "But you're glaring at her."
I felt my feet stop abrupty. In a moment I was looking at him face to face and gaping ever so slightly. He didn't laugh at my ruffled state, only looked over me with that rare, calculating look. "What are you saying?"
"You're always lying," he said offhandedly. I ignored the other students around us and paid attention to only the sound that was him speaking. "You say how attractive these girls are, but you don't like a single one of them. You're always glaring at them like you hate them when I start talking about them."
"Ah," was the only sound that left my mouth. I hadn't meant it to; it was supposed to stay in my mind. So was, "You found out," but that came out too.
"Found out?" Ron repeated my words and I felt mildly uncomfortable. I started walking again, knowing he would follow me and still continue. "I just wanted you tell me why." I glanced at him for a brief moment and saw him wiggling a hand through his hair. His eyes were fierce but at least they were more gentle than before. I paused as he slowly came to a stop again and leaned over to kiss him. Square on the lips.
I could've killed myself ten hundred million times over.
He didn't respond, only stood there stiff as a board, and I pulled back. I was murdering myself in my mind and fisting my hand so tight I could swear I was bleeding. He looked at me the second I pulled back, eyebrows raised and eyes wider than normal. His face was scowling in disgust nor was it erupting in a grin. I didn't know if that was good or bad.
"Oh," he said simply after a moment of deliberation, "so that's why."
I didn't say anything - what was there to say? He suddenly started walking and I just followed him. We walked side by side for a couple of silent moments.
That is, until he started complaining again, "So Harry and Hermione," he started again, and I glanced at him. I was pleased to see that other than that grumpy, pitiful look he normally has when he's complaining was replaced by a small smile. And however small it may be, it was still I smile. I smiled too and decidedly, just for this one time, I'd listen to what he was saying.
Ends.
Author: Dana-chaaan.
Rating: PG
Prompt Set: 50.4
Prompt: 05. Hatred
Word Count: 1259
Warning: Slash, Cursing
Summary: The perfect way to go around jealousy: act like your interested in the same girl.
Note: Well, real-life events! :) Only without the kiss or the accepting the crush. Hahah.
Begins.
It was strange how it happened; I can't even really remember. One day, we were Slytherin and Gryffindor, mortal enemies, sidekicks of the rivals. Then we called a rocky truce, mainly because the real enemies had gotten tired of the petty fights and ridiculous quarreling. We had no reason to see each other, or talk to each other, or befriend each other, but we did. Eventually we started seeing each other everywhere, we started talking to each other, we befriended each other. It was a mutual thing; it was a good thing.
But that also meant I was the back-up friend on days like this.
When Hermione and Harry had left him to his research and wondered off somewhere they didn't bother to reveal, Ron found me. He grumbled about them, complained about them, and pitifully whined about them. Being the Slytherin I am, I should've made fun of him and teased him and used this information against him. But this bloody truce and this bloody friendship caused me to bite my tongue and say nothing.
So we sat at the table in the far back of the library, right by the window, as Ron whined and I worked. He hadn't even touched his homework; he'd only been babbling nonstop. It was rather annoying, but I tuned him out eventually and settled back into the book. Until he suddenly stopped talking and started drooling a little. Very attractive, right?
"Blaise, check her out," he nudged me in the shoulder and I saw the girl he was looking at. No clue what her name was, what house she was in, what year she was in, or anything important. But he had the longest pair of legs I'd even seen, light brown hair, and a slim, feminine body. She was absolutely, positively not my type. But apparently she was Ron's.
"What's to check out?" I muttered back and ended up with an astounded face openly gaping at me. "What?"
"She's stunning," he said, a line I'd heard quite a couple of times.
I ignored that little burn in my chest and pushed down my own feelings. My little secret, my vile little secret, was going to be the death of me one day. Liking Ron Weasley definitely wasn't something I looked forward to every day. On the contrary, it was bloody aggravating. Especially at times like this when I was painfully reminded he liked girls and only girls. Ones with long legs, curvy frames, soft features, and light brown hair. That was his weakness.
But I had worked around this problem many times. The trick was to pretend you liked the girl as well. Say it half-honestly, half-mockingly and it worked like a charm. Sometimes he'd laugh, other times he'd nod in agreement, but he never noticed me staring at her with pure hatred. And that was definitely a good thing.
"Oh, oh, you mean her," I pretended I was looking at the wrong girl. He laughed and nudged me in the arm. "She is stunning; look at those legs." And off he went.
--
I sighed into my notes. It had been a week since I last saw Ron at the library. Who knows what happened after I said goodbye and left him alone at the library. I had gotten tired of talking about that girl and other girls. Ron didn't, apparently, and a couple minutes before I left he kept looking at me funny. I can't quite explain it, but it definitely made me want to punch him in the face.
"Blaise!" Oh, speak of the devil! I turned around to see Ron walking toward me. It was the only study period we shared in the whole week. I offered a small smile, something that really wasn't that strange, and let him catch up to me. He started talking about how Harry and Hermione had abandoned him a couple of times during the week and the complaining began.
But something was off today. And his, "Whoops, I'm rambling," only furthered my suspicion.
We walked outside, neither one of us talking at all, and stopped. He smiled broadly and motioned to a girl a couple of feet away. "She's cute," Ron whispered, hand covering his mouth and all. I looked over her and felt my eyebrow raise. She wasn't anything like the girls Ron had mentioned before. She was kind of short, a bit on the pudgy side, and had sleek black hair. I laughed a little before looking at Ron, picking up my pace.
"She is rather attractive," I started out, "Cute face." I glared at the girl, knowing Ron would be looking at her too, and felt comforted by the small fact that he was still walking next to me.
"You say that," Ron's voice was disbelieving, rather accusing, and his eyes were on me. I could feel those blue eyes digging into the side of my head. It was strangely painful and strangely pleasant. Maybe I was a masochist on some level? I laughed a little, of course I was if I pretended to like all the girls he liked. "But you're glaring at her."
I felt my feet stop abrupty. In a moment I was looking at him face to face and gaping ever so slightly. He didn't laugh at my ruffled state, only looked over me with that rare, calculating look. "What are you saying?"
"You're always lying," he said offhandedly. I ignored the other students around us and paid attention to only the sound that was him speaking. "You say how attractive these girls are, but you don't like a single one of them. You're always glaring at them like you hate them when I start talking about them."
"Ah," was the only sound that left my mouth. I hadn't meant it to; it was supposed to stay in my mind. So was, "You found out," but that came out too.
"Found out?" Ron repeated my words and I felt mildly uncomfortable. I started walking again, knowing he would follow me and still continue. "I just wanted you tell me why." I glanced at him for a brief moment and saw him wiggling a hand through his hair. His eyes were fierce but at least they were more gentle than before. I paused as he slowly came to a stop again and leaned over to kiss him. Square on the lips.
I could've killed myself ten hundred million times over.
He didn't respond, only stood there stiff as a board, and I pulled back. I was murdering myself in my mind and fisting my hand so tight I could swear I was bleeding. He looked at me the second I pulled back, eyebrows raised and eyes wider than normal. His face was scowling in disgust nor was it erupting in a grin. I didn't know if that was good or bad.
"Oh," he said simply after a moment of deliberation, "so that's why."
I didn't say anything - what was there to say? He suddenly started walking and I just followed him. We walked side by side for a couple of silent moments.
That is, until he started complaining again, "So Harry and Hermione," he started again, and I glanced at him. I was pleased to see that other than that grumpy, pitiful look he normally has when he's complaining was replaced by a small smile. And however small it may be, it was still I smile. I smiled too and decidedly, just for this one time, I'd listen to what he was saying.
Ends.