My Obsession
It is from Draco’s point of view
I’ve watched her for a long time now. Just sat and watched her. I’m not exactly sure how this habit formed. I think it was out of sheer boredom, but none-the-less, it stared. I only stole small glances at first. Observing her quietly when no one would notice, and slowly, over time, it grew. I watch whenever I can now, stealing as much of her in as I can. I’ve stopped hanging out with my friends, stopped talking to them. They take away from her; they take me away from her. My mornings, now earlier than they’ve ever been, begin with me preparing; preparing for her, preparing to observe. I like to look my best even though she won’t notice; I must look my best, for her. I get to breakfast early and wait for her, finishing my meal quickly, mechanically, watching her. My time between classes is spent standing in the shadows, watching her. Long ago I memorized her schedule. My evenings are spent following her, with her friends, by herself, I don’t mind, as long as I see her. It can’t be helped, she fills everything around me, becomes part of everything in my life. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
She was in the library, and I, I was two tables back, hidden in the shadows of the evening. Everything about her at that moment, like all moments I’m watching her, consumed me. The way her head tilted to the side as she wrote, the shape of her hand around her quill, the way her hair fell over her shoulders creating a waterfall of red, the way her eyes were scrunched up in concentration as she bent over her scroll. All of it fascinated me, consumed me from the inside out, like fire.
I observed her, eyebrows knitted together, her lips moving silently as she read over the last part of what she wrote. Giving a sigh of frustration she threw her quill down, slumping in her chair. She seemed so tired, so forlorn, and I hated her for it, and I loved her for it. My love for her was just as strong as my hate, fighting against each other, canceling each other out till there was nothing left, but us. Just her and I. I wanted her, I needed her, but I couldn’t have her, not ever, she was forbidden. Maybe that was the thought that made me do it. Made me follow her, further than usual. My routine was to leave her at the foot of the stairs, to let her go on without me. It was the only time I could stand to be away from her without being forced to, to let her be and go on with my own life. But this night I couldn’t, I needed her too badly this night. I wanted her too much.
Following her up the stairs turned out to be too far, too much for me. The stairs, even for late at night, were well lit with torches and moonlight, leaving me open, exposed, allowing her to see me, and she did. She turned and looked at me, her eyes flashing in surprise, caution, and that ever present spark of hatred. She opened her mouth, no doubt to insult me with curses, but she didn’t get a chance. I made my move; grabbing her arm and pulling her into a notch in the wall where once a suit of armor stood, the only place in shadow in all the stairwell. I kissed her, hard, rough, full of all my hate for her, all my love. I took her there, pushed against the wall, her skirt up, her robe open. It was rough and painful and desperate. I don’t know if she fought against me, or if she enjoyed it. I don’t know if what I did was rape, or consensual, but I loved her. And I hated her. I wanted her. And I needed her. I left her there, in the nook, left her and went back to my room, falling straight into bed, exhausted.
I didn’t think of what I did until the next morning, until breakfast when it sunk in. I had gotten ready like normal, eating and waiting for her. I saw her, dark circles under her eyes, robes in disarray. I couldn’t watch her, couldn’t even look at her. I fled; leaving behind my untouched breakfast. I avoided her the rest of the day. Not going near her classes, anywhere near her. For lunch and dinner, I ate early, leaving long before she arrived and making myself busy where she was not to be found. That evening I hid myself in the Astronomy Tower, hiding away from the students, the staff, from her, but she found me. I don’t how, I just turned around and there she was, standing at the entrance, staring at me.
I ignored her, thinking, like the fool I am, that if I ignored her long enough, what I did would go away. That maybe she would forget about it and I could move on, back to my own life; or what was left of it.
She came forward, and yet I still refused to look at her, she pushed me, hard. Surprised, I landed on my backside, only barely able to keep from ending up on my back, her face only inches from mine. I looked into her dark eyes, shinning in the moon light and I was afraid. “I hate you.” Her whisper was soft and harsh, but the words echoed in my mind, even as her lips captured mine, her teeth nipping my bottom lip to gain entrance. Her nimble hands removed my robes, pushing and pulling it off of my body. Her own robe joined mine and our kisses became more heated, more desperate. She pushed me on my back, onto the cold stone floor, her body and hands insistent. Her nails racked my body with bloody lines down my chest as I removed both mine and her shirt. Our bodies joined in war, fighting in a perfect dance. Nothing but instinct and raw passion controlled our movements, bringing about both pain and pleasure, both welcomed, both needed. I didn’t take her, she took me. In her passionate angry way, she took me, all of me and made me hers. More of hers than I could ever get back.
As we lay on the cold, hard floor of the Astronomy Tower, our robes and bodies as cover against the cold, I held her naked, sleeping form against my own and kissed the top of her red curls. There was only her and I. Just me and my goddess, my demon, my obsession. So tell me what you think. Like it, hate it. Personally I think it’s better than most of the others I’ve done, but who knows. Well you guess don't