Sweetie you were one of my first fandom friends, which means you've been putting up with me for well over a year now. We discovered a joint love of H/D, femmeslash, Willow/Tara, and of course Angelina. Your Birthday last year was the first time I got brave enough to post anything I've written so first I give you a trip down memory lane.
Chrystal's fic from one year ago
And now, something I wrote for you this year. Unfortunately it's not quite as happy and fun as last year's. For some reason it went all angsty on me. I hope you have a wonderful day, honey. So. Much. Love.
Title: Hold On
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling and various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Notes: For my dear Chrystal on her Birthday. Unbeta'd.
Pansy hates the daytime. Too much time to think, to remember, to try and forget. Hermione goes to work at the Ministry, leaving Pansy alone in the flat with only her own fears for company. Pansy never feels comfortable alone anymore. She wonders if she ever did.
The nights are better; when Hermione presses her soft curves against Pansy’s slender body. Hermione’s fingers and tongue can make Pansy feel alive and wanted, if only for a short time. Pansy’s clit throbs under Hermione’s ministrations, and Pansy can almost believe Hermione really cares. Almost.
Hermione always goes straight to sleep after. Pansy doesn’t wonder why Hermione won’t talk or cuddle. She knows. Those days are long gone. Now they’re just going through the motions, trying to re-capture something that once was. Pansy understands that they can’t go back.
Pansy does wonder about certain things. Like why Hermione even took her back, or why she even bothered returning. So much has changed since she ran away from her choices and she doesn’t know how to fit in anymore. Where do you fit when you run to escape war and responsibilities? There’s no special place in this world for cowards.
Hermione is due home from the Ministry any time. She’ll kiss Pansy and tell her about her day. She pretends well, Pansy thinks. Every day when Hermione Apparates to their tiny flat, Pansy wonders if this will be the day Hermione tells her to go. She knows it’s coming. It’s just a matter of time.
Pansy curls up beside Hermione’s sleeping form and kisses her wild hair, burying her face in the auburn curls. She’ll hang on for as long as Hermione keeps pretending, because Hermione is all she has.