Title: Happy Decline
Character Pairing: Ginny/Pansy
Prompt: "the decline of all things"
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 828
Summary: Pansy hates being an adult.
Author's Notes: Warning for swearing and mentions of sex.
Link to Prompt Table:
here Happy Decline
Pansy crunched another piece of parchment into a ball.
“Evanesco,” she said, and watched the parchment disappear. Maybe she should have burned it. It would have given her more satisfaction.
She had been working on an article about autumn trends in dress robes for the better part of an hour, but had nothing to show for it.
She took a sip of her now-cold coffee and sighed.
If her readers saw the way she lived, they would be shocked. The fashion columnist of the most glamourous witch’s magazine in Britain lived a less than glamorous reality. Empty wine bottles and boxes of takeout covered every inch of the kitchen table that she wasn’t working on. Clothes, lingerie and random rubbish were scattered over the floor. She was still in her nightclothes even though it was approaching five.
She put aside her work and wandered to the Floo.
“Come home, Gin,” Pansy moaned. “I want to have sex.”
“I can’t for another hour or so. I have to work sometimes, you know,” Ginny said.
“But I like it so much better when you don’t.”
“Not all of us have the privilege of choosing our working hours. They’ll be mad at me if I leave early again this week.”
“I don’t care about them. Fuck them. I need you now. I’m uninspired without you.”
Even though Pansy couldn’t see her properly through the flames, she was pretty sure her girlfriend was rolling her eyes at her. They had had this conversation many times before.
“I’ll be home in an hour,” Ginny said, humour in her voice. “Be a good adult and work until then.”
“I cooked,” Pansy lied. “The food will be cold by then.”
“Ever heard of heating charms, genius? And I can tell when you’re lying,” Ginny said. “You never cook.”
“I did for you. Just to get you home. I know you’re hungry.”
“You’re not wrong,” Ginny said. “But you’ll have to wait. And stop Flooing me at work. As much as I’d like to see you every hour of the day, my co-workers don’t.”
After the Floo went off, Pansy sighed loudly and stared back at her work. How could she make mustard-coloured dress robes interesting?
‘A story, Parkinson, a story,” she thought. That’s what chief editor Jones always insisted on. You need a story to sell! What is your witch doing in her garment? Going on a romantic picnic? Grabbing a coffee on the way to the office? Seducing a wizard?
‘I can’t do this sober,’ she thought, and summoned a glass of wine.
Forty-five minutes and two glasses of wine later she had come up with something. Sexy, confident ex-Hufflepuff attending a class reunion wasn’t exactly a thrill, but it would appeal to at least some of the readers.
‘Jones is a Hufflepuff. She’ll be happy with it,’ she tried to console herself. It really wasn’t her best work.
She heard the sound of the Floo, and a moment later felt a familiar warmth behind her.
“Evening, honey,” Ginny said and crouched to kiss her on the head. Pansy shifted her position and pulled her girlfriend into a proper kiss.
“Missed you,” she said.
“Missed you too.”
“I hate my job,” Pansy said as Ginny slumped down next to her.
“I hate my job too.”
“If your side would have just let my side win, we could be living off my family’s money right now,” Pansy said.
“Oh, ha ha,” Ginny said. “Now where’s that dinner you mentioned? I’m hungry.”
“Disappeared,” Pansy said with a straight face. “I don’t know what happened. I left the room for a minute and it was just gone.”
Ginny snorted.
“You know you’re the worst girlfriend ever?”
“But you love me anyway?”
“That I do. I don’t know why,” Ginny said. “Well, I suppose there are some things you are good at…”
“Mnn,” Pansy said, and trailed her fingers across Ginny’s cheek.
“Later. I need food. Come on, you worthless lump,” Ginny said, getting up. “Let’s go get some food.”
“Can’t we just Floo your mum over? She can feed us and clean the place at the same time. Two birds killed with one stone.”
Ginny laughed.
“I don’t know why she likes you. You treat her terribly.”
“No I don’t! I always remember to say thank you.”
“Come on,” Ginny said, managing not to roll her eyes. “Get dressed. I’m taking you out into the real world. At least put some pants on.”
“I don’t like the real world,” Pansy grumbled, but got up from her chair and started scavenging the floor for clothes anyway. “I just want to live in a happy state of decline with you for the rest of my life and never have to face the real world.”
“It’ll be much more fun returning to it if you occasionally leave it,” Ginny reasoned.
“Promise me you’ll indulge in some reckless debauchery after we’ve gotten you fed?” Pansy said.
“Promise,” Ginny said and smiled.