Don't miss you at all
Author: Ri, aka Szaranea
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: This is a quasi-songfic. Meaning, that it was inspired by Norah Jones'
"Don't miss you at all". Okay. It's a rip-off, I admit it. But when I heard that song after buying
that album, my first thought was: "Ah, sounds like Draco when he's in denial". Since I love Draco in
denial almost as much as I like some good D/G smut or snog, I thought I'd share this with you. I had originally
planned this out to be a little longer, and intended to post it on the fanfic part of PK, but it's rather shortish,
so I didn't. And here it is:
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It's snowing outside. For the first time this year. Snow really is an amazing thing, don't you think? Pure and
simple perfection, geometrically spoken. Every little snowflake different, but all the same beautiful. Why can't
everybody be like snowflakes? Why can't we be like snowflakes? And why do I even bother to talk to you? -
you're not even here. And it's for the best like that. I don't miss you anyway.
With the snow comes the cold, though. Especially up here, where I'm even more exposed to the icy sting of the wind, and the cold that seeps through my heavy cloak and my flesh, gripping my bones tightly.
I can hear the faint sound some of the other students are making down on the grounds. The wind is carrying them to me. They are savouring the first snow in their own way. Who knows, perhaps you're one of them?
I don't really care. I don't miss you. If I would, I'd perhaps think about your smile - always warm and caring - but I don't.
I'm here for the solitude, and the noise should actually annoy me, but strangely, it doesn't. It's like music to my ears - very un-Slytherin if you ask me, so don't tell anybody. I have confidence in you there - because if you did, then you'd have a lot to answer for.
There really isn't that much to tell, now that I think about it. I'm not even sure as to why there even is something. I'd rather there weren't. I'd rather it stays that way. I'd rather you'll never come to me. You'll stay a distant memory that way, somewhere deep in the drawers of my mind. I don't miss you.
The lights are going dark now. I've been sitting here for a long time, as it seems. The kids have long retreated to the warmth and comfort of the castle and dorm lights are being put out already. Darkness must have fallen at least two hours ago - I apparently missed dinner. I don't miss you, though.
Your eyes are dark - chocolate brown, to be precise. They don't haunt me. I don't see them everywhere I look - it is too dark for that to be possible anyway.
But there's this nagging feeling that won't let go of me. I feel empty. What am I? Who am I? I never asked myself that when you touched me. Your touch is always warm, and now that it's gone I feel cold. It's just the tiniest of doubts rising in me as I sit and watch the snow falling down.
I don't miss you - but I know that I have never felt the way I do when you hold me - your hands brushing over my skin, your lips on mine. What am I without that? - empty, lifeless.
So I continue to watch the earth being covered by white perfection asking myself if ever the same will happen to me. Would it be white too? Or would it be red?
But I don't miss you. I don't miss you at all.
Still, I am going to see you again.
But I don't miss you - I can't be missing you. And I don't. Not at all.