No Regrets

Her head is in her hands. There are no tears, but that doesn't mean she's not crying. She knows if it wasn't real, He'd burst through the door, sweep her (how the hell is someone "swept" in someone's arms?! Why the feck would a brush being involved make anything romantic?!) into His tanned, well-toned arms, kiss her hard and take her somewhere desperately erotic to ravish her.

Unfortunately, it's all real and she's sitting in her dingy room, with her head in her hands, peeking through her fingers at the peeling varnish on her desk. In fact, it's so real that He isn't tanned - she might even go as far as to say that He's a little pale. His arms? Well-toned..? eh nah... Play quidditch He does not, and she's quite happy with His sticks, thank you very much, never mind the fact that they'd probably snap if He tried to "sweep" her into his arms.

And as for him ravishing her - well that's about as likely as her rushing off to Voldie and offering herself up as a sex slave/waitress. And no, things have not gotten so bad that she's considering that as an option... yet.

What he does have is the most hamster-like face she's ever seen. Especially when He grins. You know the one - when He's done something He's incredibly proud of, or something naughty... She can think of a few naughty things she'd let Him do... She shakes her head to banish those thoughts, so to speak. They'll be back soon enough but, just now, she has enough will-power not to give in, and she knows they only make it worse.

She thinks of His hamster-face again. Out of that rodent-face stare the most beautiful eyes she's ever seen. She always thought that all the hype about blue eyes was bollocks. Cobalt, my arse. Sky, ice, blah blah... But He has the Blue-est eyes she's ever encountered. To say they held her captive would be a cliche and vomit-enducing, but none-the-less true. She actually cannot believe how blue they are. She wondered, at one point, if they were so coloured only in comparison with her monotony, but quickly dismissed that, as it would imply some influence from her on His life.

She simply adores Him. She can't do anything but. She's known more attractive, funnier, kinder, more thoughtful, more rebellious, more intelligent, less narcissistic and better men, but somehow He is what she wants. She wouldn't say she loved Him. She's not entirely sure she believes in love, beyond the platonic or paternal kind. But, and maybe this is unwise because she is, after all, only 18, she thinks that this may be the closest she'll ever get to loving someone.

And that's what makes it so awful. That's what makes it hurt. Her head is in her hands trying to keep the tears on the inside, where she can pretend they're not real.

She did a very stupid thing. She may have told Him how she felt. In fact, there is no may about it. She did tell Him how she felt - well, not the depth of it, but she definitely mentioned the fact that she really fancied Him.

And that is where her problem lies.

It wasn't that she thought that he would return the sentiments - she's not that delusional. She just felt as it was New Year that He had a right to know. She told Him, and it's not even that she regrets that. In some ways, she still feels she did the right thing.

What she regrets is after having told Him, that He acted like normal, when all she wanted to do was hide. What she regrets is the seriousness that appeared on His face when she distraughtly asked Him if He'd heard what she said. What she regrets is that on their quest to be able to hear each other she allowed herself to get her hopes up.

What she regrets is her reaction to His telling her, in that voice, that he didn't want to lose her as a friend and He didn't want their relationship to change because of her little confession. She regrets her reaction to the fact that He never even mentioned His feelings towards her - or rather lack-there-of.

What she regrets is mumbling that it would be back to normal the next day, if He would just leave her alone for that night. What she regrets is running off and sobbing hysterically. What she regrets is knowing that at one point he came to see if she was alright and she got up and stumbled as hurriedly as she could away from Him. What she regrets is His knowledge of her tears. Tears that were cried over Him.

What she regrets is that she is now struggling to even be His friend. She loved being His friend. It wasn't even that she needed or even wanted more. It was just how she felt and just what she wanted to tell him. But now, despite His wishes, it's changed. She's not comfortable as she was. She can't be herself around Him anymore. She can't say everything she thinks anymore. She can't even watch Him, in case He notices.

What she regrets, is that, as much as she tries to tell herself otherwise, Pansy Parkinson loves Blaise Zabini.