Post by Coldest of Flames on Sept 29, 2004 21:22:14 GMT -5
Draco smiled. He looked around his room. He knew that no one would be there, and the thought pleased him. He was seventeen, an adult wizard. He had a manor of his own that he shared with absolutely no one. He enjoyed this isolation. When he was young, he thought popularity was all he needed. He learned just how wrong he was the hard way.
His first love was a failure, and she's the only one that ever loved him at all. He didn't even like Pansy Parkinson as a friend. She was a snoot, but he eventually realized that he was just as bad. The one he did love was long gone. She'd picked a Weasley over him. He felt so ashamed of this.
He tried not to let this get to him, but it pained him day and night. All he could ever think about was his loss of love. His parents never really loved him. His father tried to buy his love, as did his mother at times. He always got just what he wanted as a child, but that didn't work now. Worldly possessions don't get you far in the world of emotion.
He looked at a picture on his wall. Diana Riddle was kissing his cheek in this picture. It wasn't the most they had done. They had gone further than he (or she) would like to admit. They never told anyone of their love. It was a secret between the two of them, and it ate away at Draco's insides like nothing else could.
Draco wanted his true lover back. He knew exactly who it was, but she failed to see how beautiful they were as a couple. All she saw was that bloody Fred Weasley and his Joke Shop industry. Joke Shops..so juvenille. Draco scoffed at the very thought. Draco was more romantic than him by a longshot.
Draco took the frame off of his wall. He stared at it for what seemed like ever. He failed to notice the tears that were falling on it: his beautiful, cold tears that fell like a miniscule waterfall of misery. He felt forsaken and betrayed, but he knew it was all his own doing. He placed the picture back on the wall, some of his tears pouring off of it.
He tried pretending to be serene, but it didn't always work that way. He started to doodle on parchment that he'd left on his desk....
His first love was a failure, and she's the only one that ever loved him at all. He didn't even like Pansy Parkinson as a friend. She was a snoot, but he eventually realized that he was just as bad. The one he did love was long gone. She'd picked a Weasley over him. He felt so ashamed of this.
He tried not to let this get to him, but it pained him day and night. All he could ever think about was his loss of love. His parents never really loved him. His father tried to buy his love, as did his mother at times. He always got just what he wanted as a child, but that didn't work now. Worldly possessions don't get you far in the world of emotion.
He looked at a picture on his wall. Diana Riddle was kissing his cheek in this picture. It wasn't the most they had done. They had gone further than he (or she) would like to admit. They never told anyone of their love. It was a secret between the two of them, and it ate away at Draco's insides like nothing else could.
Draco wanted his true lover back. He knew exactly who it was, but she failed to see how beautiful they were as a couple. All she saw was that bloody Fred Weasley and his Joke Shop industry. Joke Shops..so juvenille. Draco scoffed at the very thought. Draco was more romantic than him by a longshot.
Draco took the frame off of his wall. He stared at it for what seemed like ever. He failed to notice the tears that were falling on it: his beautiful, cold tears that fell like a miniscule waterfall of misery. He felt forsaken and betrayed, but he knew it was all his own doing. He placed the picture back on the wall, some of his tears pouring off of it.
He tried pretending to be serene, but it didn't always work that way. He started to doodle on parchment that he'd left on his desk....