Drawing Board

I can recall only this one time, this kind of control the girl had on my mind

Blaise sighed as he threw himself onto his fourposter. Staring up into the dark green canopy of his bed he desperatly tried to get some sleep. He shifted to his side and pulled up the covers as a cold blast of wind whipped around his face. Only Draco would keep the window open when it is 20 degrees outside, he thought to himself. Come to think of it- Draco started everything. He was the one that introduced me to her. The "Weaselette" he called her. Blaise chuckled to himself. She might be little but damn- you don't want to meet up with one of her curses. He cringed when he thought of the many times going to Madam Pompfry because of her. Seemed everything he thought of would always come back to her one way or another.

As he brushed a piece of his ebony colored hair away from his pale face, he wished for anything to get the image of her out of his head.

I'm falling deep, I can't get out. I've never acted this way before.

We are just friends-if even that, he sighed. We will never be anything else. She doesn't feel the same way about me. It was always Potter, Mr. Wonderboy himself. She has talked about him millions of times, with his "emerald orbs that pull you toward him" and his "messy raven colored hair" that she loved.

"It's stupid I think of her and I am jealous of Potter," he spat out into the darkness. He closed his eyes again only to be greeted with her smiling face. Her auburn colored hair that was constantly frizzy, her chocolate eyes that melted his very soul. And then there were the freckles, her adorable freckles that scattered across her face like pixie dust.

He is a Slytherin. He should not have these emotions. Most Slytherins don't, at least not that he knew of. They only know of power and wealth, and love.. is it love? isn't an emotion that most know of.

It's not like there is no one else for me. I have girls practically THROWING themselves at me, mostly to get closer to Draco, but throwing themselves at me nonetheless. Me and my dark blue eyes that are clouded over with mystery, as Pansy often says. I swear that girl is mental.

I think that Draco is catching on how I feel about Ginny. He keeps setting me up with other beautiful women. The weird thing is, it only makes me think of her more.

I've spent days and nights in my bedroom

I wonder if she knows how I feel. I didn't think anyone would know. Then again Granger is looking at me differently too, like she knows. What am I talking about? I don't even know! I don't love her or anything. It pains me to see her get brushed away by HIM repeatedly, day after day. You would think the girl would learn to let it go. Then again, she claims he is her "true love".

Tonight when I tried to talk to her, it was like I wasn't myself. She had tears in her eyes from being neglected again. My hands were itching to wipe the tears off of her perfect face. To hold her close and let her know that things would be ok, because I was there. Most times after I see her I have to hurry back to my room so she doesn't see the pain in my eyes. That is where Draco usually finds me.

Trying to write the perfect song to sing to you. Write a song a day but she won't like it anyway

I take out some parchment and carefully unscrew the ink bottle as I hold the quill in my mouth. I seem to have all these songs that I suddenly think of when I am around her. I scribble furiously, my quill trying to keep up with the thoughts in my head.

"Writing another love sonnet, I see," Draco smirks sleepily. I must have woke him from my writing.

"Sod off," I say irritably, crumpling up my piece of parchment and throwing it into the wastebin. See? he doesn't understand. We are men, we are cursed with emotional problems. I groan inwardly and I crumple up yet another piece of parchment.

Back to the Drawing Board with the words you've heard a million times before

I guess I shall live with this secret love forever. Yes, I admit it. I love Virginia Weasley. I love everything about her. She is my whole. I ache without her. She is my missing part that makes me whole again. At least I finally admitted it to myself. It's not like I'm going to act on it and say anything to her. I know how she feels, I can tell by the way she looks at me.

In your head, I am dead

He exhales deeply as he falls into a dreamless sleep. Little does he know, the girl with auburn hair is still awake in her bedchambers thinking of a boy with ebony colored hair, smiling, because she knows she love him more than she will ever love Harry. If only he knew....