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A/N: This is a two-parter... Next is Draco's perspective on the story... REVIEW!!! (and be kind- this is only my 2nd fic)
DISCLAIMER: Nope. Not mine. All belongs to the wonderful JKR.
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She was pretty sure she’d had enough- enough of the anxiety, the secrecy, the sneaking around. Their latest fight had occurred only 3 or 4 hours ago. Once again, he tried to pressure her into making their relationship public, but she would hear none of it. She was worried. What would her friends think? What would her family think? Worst of all, what would Ron do in a pathetic attempt to “save her honor”? Lately, it seemed that all she did was worry and she was sick of it.
Did that mean, then, that she was also sick of the passion, the fire, the (dare she say it) romance? She’d never tire of that- the gentle caresses, the frantic kisses, the way he lit up when she came to see him, his smirk (or, better yet, the smile he reserved only for her), the aristocratic features, his platinum hair, those beautiful, deep eyes.
After all, it was all in his eyes. The eyes are the window to one’s soul and in the 2 years they’d been together, she had learned how to read him through his eyes. She knew they turned lightest blue when he was happy and dull, heavy gray when angry. They darkened to a passionate, tumultuous charcoal when aroused and shining metallic silver when laughing. She loved his eyes, loved that she alone could turn them that beautiful baby blue.
Lost in her thoughts, she realized something. She wasn’t sick of him, not at all. She could never really be sick of him, not anymore, not now that he was a part of her. Any thoughts of breaking it off were lost as her mind wandered again to his captivating eyes.
Running as quickly as her short legs could carry her, she finally made it to his private rooms. She gave the portrait his password (gingersnaps) and walked inside, only to find him sleeping peacefully on his antique four-poster. He looked almost angelic just then, with his blond hair spread out, a slight smile playing on his face. Gently, with a care possessed only by mothers and lovers, she shook him awake.
“Draco, Draco, I have to tell you something.”
He awoke and looked at her in surprise. He was curious, no doubt, and when she failed to explain herself he pinned her with the patented Malfoy glare.
Uncomfortable under his silver gaze, she suddenly began to feel quite foolish. What was she doing here? Surely he could never feel the same way as she did. Her vibrant blush clashed horribly with her cherry red hair and, making weak excuses, she turned to leave.
“Ginevra.” His steely tone stopped her dead in her tracks. He was looking at her, not with anger, but with worry. Slowly, shakily, she turned around.
“Well, the thing is…” she stuttered. “I sort of… might be… possibly… a little bit completely in love with you.”
He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
“Is that all?” he asked. Fuming, she stepped up to him and slapped him across the face.
“Draco Salazar Malfoy, just what do you mean by ‘is that all’?”
“Well, Gin, I should think it quite obvious. I love you too, you silly bint. I think I have since I met you, at Flourish and Blotts, before your first year. I’ve spent the last 6 years trying to convince you of it.”
And with his next action, Draco Malfoy managed again to completely shock Ginny Weasley, as he pulled out a sparkling engagement ring.
“Now then, how about making an honest man out of me?”
DISCLAIMER: Nope. Not mine. All belongs to the wonderful JKR.
***********************************************************
She was pretty sure she’d had enough- enough of the anxiety, the secrecy, the sneaking around. Their latest fight had occurred only 3 or 4 hours ago. Once again, he tried to pressure her into making their relationship public, but she would hear none of it. She was worried. What would her friends think? What would her family think? Worst of all, what would Ron do in a pathetic attempt to “save her honor”? Lately, it seemed that all she did was worry and she was sick of it.
Did that mean, then, that she was also sick of the passion, the fire, the (dare she say it) romance? She’d never tire of that- the gentle caresses, the frantic kisses, the way he lit up when she came to see him, his smirk (or, better yet, the smile he reserved only for her), the aristocratic features, his platinum hair, those beautiful, deep eyes.
After all, it was all in his eyes. The eyes are the window to one’s soul and in the 2 years they’d been together, she had learned how to read him through his eyes. She knew they turned lightest blue when he was happy and dull, heavy gray when angry. They darkened to a passionate, tumultuous charcoal when aroused and shining metallic silver when laughing. She loved his eyes, loved that she alone could turn them that beautiful baby blue.
Lost in her thoughts, she realized something. She wasn’t sick of him, not at all. She could never really be sick of him, not anymore, not now that he was a part of her. Any thoughts of breaking it off were lost as her mind wandered again to his captivating eyes.
Running as quickly as her short legs could carry her, she finally made it to his private rooms. She gave the portrait his password (gingersnaps) and walked inside, only to find him sleeping peacefully on his antique four-poster. He looked almost angelic just then, with his blond hair spread out, a slight smile playing on his face. Gently, with a care possessed only by mothers and lovers, she shook him awake.
“Draco, Draco, I have to tell you something.”
He awoke and looked at her in surprise. He was curious, no doubt, and when she failed to explain herself he pinned her with the patented Malfoy glare.
Uncomfortable under his silver gaze, she suddenly began to feel quite foolish. What was she doing here? Surely he could never feel the same way as she did. Her vibrant blush clashed horribly with her cherry red hair and, making weak excuses, she turned to leave.
“Ginevra.” His steely tone stopped her dead in her tracks. He was looking at her, not with anger, but with worry. Slowly, shakily, she turned around.
“Well, the thing is…” she stuttered. “I sort of… might be… possibly… a little bit completely in love with you.”
He let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
“Is that all?” he asked. Fuming, she stepped up to him and slapped him across the face.
“Draco Salazar Malfoy, just what do you mean by ‘is that all’?”
“Well, Gin, I should think it quite obvious. I love you too, you silly bint. I think I have since I met you, at Flourish and Blotts, before your first year. I’ve spent the last 6 years trying to convince you of it.”
And with his next action, Draco Malfoy managed again to completely shock Ginny Weasley, as he pulled out a sparkling engagement ring.
“Now then, how about making an honest man out of me?”
To Be Continued.
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