A Chance Meeting (part 1) [Tom/Ginny]
Title: A chance meeting - 1/3
Author: me! (mores0ul)
Characters: Ginny/Mystery dream man (It will make sense later, I swear)
Song: Sleeping to Dream by Jason Mraz
Rating: Er, PG-13 for brief mentions of a sexual nature? Or is that PG? I have no clue.
Summary: A single moment in time where three lives crosses. Part One - Ginny's POV.
Author's Note: AU, per usual. I have signed up to do NaNoWriMo, and I will be writing a Tom/Ginny fic. The last three prompts in my 10 tunes will serve as a preface of sorts for that story. They will be a series of three-shots (is that even a word?) of three different POVs on a single event. At this point, this is not the best it can be, I apologize. I am trying to train myself for NaNo and learn to "write now, right now!" and edit later. So again, my apologies if this is a bit sloppy. Also, my prompt table is here, for those who might be interested. Thanks for reading, and any concrit/comments is appreciated!
Ginny was dreaming again. Nowadays it seems like she was always in dreams, even when she was wide-awake. She rarely ever remembers her dreams, but she is sure they are not extraordinary - or even exciting. Instead, she dreams of the ordinary, the mundane, and the familiarity wraps around her like a comfortable, warm blanket. Idly, she remembers Hermione saying in her matter-of-fact way that dreams were merely “ways your subconscious works through problems.” Did she imagine that conversation? No, it had really happened, ages and ages ago on a summer day at the Burrow. It was before the Second War, before the Carrows siblings and the horrors of her seventh year, before all the deaths (before Fred’s…) she had been forced to grow up in the aftermath of the death of Voldemort, and in the shadows cast by the Death Eaters who were still-at-large and dangerous. Weren’t the happily-ever-afters supposed to happen if the light side won, she had fumed? Instead, the Wizarding world was plunged into chaos, and the days melted into each other like one long, horrible nightmare no one could wake up from.
Ginny closes her eyes, and wonders again if she only dreams when she is asleep. It had been almost 5 years since her graduation from Hogwarts, but she still dreams of the same, ordinary things she did since her First year. Only now, visions of Tom Riddle are no longer confined to her dreams. Lately, she has been catching glimpses of dark-haired, paled-skinned boys as she went about her days. She’ll be walking home from work, and out of the corner of her eyes, she’ll see Tom - his slight frame and those piercing green eyes. However, every time she turned around, he’ll be gone like he was never there to begin with. Everytime she feels a bit of her sanity slip away, and she wonders how the mere absence of something can hurt this badly.
Tonight, the dream is different , stronger and more vivid, as if all her senses were attuned to her desire to see Tom, to make love to the man/memory who stole her heart unwittingly. She can almost feel the warmth of his hands, and smell a mixture of firewhiskey and sweat as he moves to kiss her eyes first, the tip of her nose, and then her mouth. On some levels she knew this was a dream, but her conviction grew weaker with each fervent kiss and lingering caress. Her skin felt feverish and she ached for him with such an intensity she thought she would scream. She fought the desire to open her eyes, to see the person who had never really left her, and she squeezed her eyes shut till they ached from the strain. It felt so real, he felt so real, and if she were to open her eyes and find herself alone in her cold, drab apartment, again, she knew her heart would break.
A single tear escaped from her clamped eyelids, and lost in her own bitterness and self pity, she wished she could stay asleep forever.
She shoved these painful thoughts aside and focused on the feel of warm, large hands unbuttoning her top, as she tried to stifle her moan as a hand trailed slowly down towards her panties.
Ginny vaguely remembers the sound of her bedroom door opening before his large hand reached it’s destination. Her mind went blank, and her ordinary, mundane world came tumbling down, down, down…
To be continued.
(Kind of.)
Author: me! (mores0ul)
Characters: Ginny/Mystery dream man (It will make sense later, I swear)
Song: Sleeping to Dream by Jason Mraz
Rating: Er, PG-13 for brief mentions of a sexual nature? Or is that PG? I have no clue.
Summary: A single moment in time where three lives crosses. Part One - Ginny's POV.
Author's Note: AU, per usual. I have signed up to do NaNoWriMo, and I will be writing a Tom/Ginny fic. The last three prompts in my 10 tunes will serve as a preface of sorts for that story. They will be a series of three-shots (is that even a word?) of three different POVs on a single event. At this point, this is not the best it can be, I apologize. I am trying to train myself for NaNo and learn to "write now, right now!" and edit later. So again, my apologies if this is a bit sloppy. Also, my prompt table is here, for those who might be interested. Thanks for reading, and any concrit/comments is appreciated!
Ginny was dreaming again. Nowadays it seems like she was always in dreams, even when she was wide-awake. She rarely ever remembers her dreams, but she is sure they are not extraordinary - or even exciting. Instead, she dreams of the ordinary, the mundane, and the familiarity wraps around her like a comfortable, warm blanket. Idly, she remembers Hermione saying in her matter-of-fact way that dreams were merely “ways your subconscious works through problems.” Did she imagine that conversation? No, it had really happened, ages and ages ago on a summer day at the Burrow. It was before the Second War, before the Carrows siblings and the horrors of her seventh year, before all the deaths (before Fred’s…) she had been forced to grow up in the aftermath of the death of Voldemort, and in the shadows cast by the Death Eaters who were still-at-large and dangerous. Weren’t the happily-ever-afters supposed to happen if the light side won, she had fumed? Instead, the Wizarding world was plunged into chaos, and the days melted into each other like one long, horrible nightmare no one could wake up from.
Ginny closes her eyes, and wonders again if she only dreams when she is asleep. It had been almost 5 years since her graduation from Hogwarts, but she still dreams of the same, ordinary things she did since her First year. Only now, visions of Tom Riddle are no longer confined to her dreams. Lately, she has been catching glimpses of dark-haired, paled-skinned boys as she went about her days. She’ll be walking home from work, and out of the corner of her eyes, she’ll see Tom - his slight frame and those piercing green eyes. However, every time she turned around, he’ll be gone like he was never there to begin with. Everytime she feels a bit of her sanity slip away, and she wonders how the mere absence of something can hurt this badly.
Tonight, the dream is different , stronger and more vivid, as if all her senses were attuned to her desire to see Tom, to make love to the man/memory who stole her heart unwittingly. She can almost feel the warmth of his hands, and smell a mixture of firewhiskey and sweat as he moves to kiss her eyes first, the tip of her nose, and then her mouth. On some levels she knew this was a dream, but her conviction grew weaker with each fervent kiss and lingering caress. Her skin felt feverish and she ached for him with such an intensity she thought she would scream. She fought the desire to open her eyes, to see the person who had never really left her, and she squeezed her eyes shut till they ached from the strain. It felt so real, he felt so real, and if she were to open her eyes and find herself alone in her cold, drab apartment, again, she knew her heart would break.
A single tear escaped from her clamped eyelids, and lost in her own bitterness and self pity, she wished she could stay asleep forever.
She shoved these painful thoughts aside and focused on the feel of warm, large hands unbuttoning her top, as she tried to stifle her moan as a hand trailed slowly down towards her panties.
Ginny vaguely remembers the sound of her bedroom door opening before his large hand reached it’s destination. Her mind went blank, and her ordinary, mundane world came tumbling down, down, down…
To be continued.
(Kind of.)