We Say
Title: We Say
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Pansy/Luna
Rating: G
Word Count: 270
Summary: “You’re a freak,” Pansy announces, crossing her arms with a measure of finality.
Author's Notes: Written for amor_remanet at the rarepair_shorts wishlist event. Honestly, how could I pass up a Pansy/Luna request? The prompt was misconstrued insults.
We Say
They are face-to-face. Split it up, take sides, and it is curiosity on one, a confrontation on the other. Lips are curled upward and downward; they are sneers and smiles.
“You’re a freak,” Pansy announces, crossing her arms with a measure of finality. Of victory. She wishes there were others here to witness it.
Luna hears You’re different, and says, “Thank you.”
Baffled, Pansy narrows her eyes. “Don’t be stupid,” she snaps.
“Oh, I don’t think I will.” No sarcasm, no malice: honesty. Luna is thoughtful. “You’re different from other Slytherins, you know,” she continues, as if her statements are connected.
Pansy hears You’re a freak, and grits her teeth. “Nobody asked you.”
“I’m sorry,” says Luna. “I suppose I should have waited, then.”
“Until what?”
“Until somebody did ask me,” Luna nods. “I don’t mind waiting.”
“Like anyone would ever ask you anything.”
There is a wall that Luna sees. Each time either of them wishes to speak, they must slide a secret door aside and peek through. It is large enough for only parts; lips, an eye, never the entire picture.
“I don’t mind,” she repeats.
“You should. Any normal person would.” Pansy scowls, waits. Then, “Why don’t you?”
“I like being patient.”
Luna means I like you.
Pansy wrinkles her nose.
“Well, no one cares what you like,” she says after a moment.
She means I do, too.
They are face-to-face and then heel-to-toe as Pansy hurries, hurries, hurries away.
The world is a complicated place when you wonder if you should say what you mean and mean what you say.
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: Pansy/Luna
Rating: G
Word Count: 270
Summary: “You’re a freak,” Pansy announces, crossing her arms with a measure of finality.
Author's Notes: Written for amor_remanet at the rarepair_shorts wishlist event. Honestly, how could I pass up a Pansy/Luna request? The prompt was misconstrued insults.
We Say
They are face-to-face. Split it up, take sides, and it is curiosity on one, a confrontation on the other. Lips are curled upward and downward; they are sneers and smiles.
“You’re a freak,” Pansy announces, crossing her arms with a measure of finality. Of victory. She wishes there were others here to witness it.
Luna hears You’re different, and says, “Thank you.”
Baffled, Pansy narrows her eyes. “Don’t be stupid,” she snaps.
“Oh, I don’t think I will.” No sarcasm, no malice: honesty. Luna is thoughtful. “You’re different from other Slytherins, you know,” she continues, as if her statements are connected.
Pansy hears You’re a freak, and grits her teeth. “Nobody asked you.”
“I’m sorry,” says Luna. “I suppose I should have waited, then.”
“Until what?”
“Until somebody did ask me,” Luna nods. “I don’t mind waiting.”
“Like anyone would ever ask you anything.”
There is a wall that Luna sees. Each time either of them wishes to speak, they must slide a secret door aside and peek through. It is large enough for only parts; lips, an eye, never the entire picture.
“I don’t mind,” she repeats.
“You should. Any normal person would.” Pansy scowls, waits. Then, “Why don’t you?”
“I like being patient.”
Luna means I like you.
Pansy wrinkles her nose.
“Well, no one cares what you like,” she says after a moment.
She means I do, too.
They are face-to-face and then heel-to-toe as Pansy hurries, hurries, hurries away.
The world is a complicated place when you wonder if you should say what you mean and mean what you say.