Work Text:
What would happen if....
His love was as hot as chocolate, as strong as coffee, and as quiet as a leaf falling from a tree. He often wondered what it would be like if he had confessed to her. Smirking, sometimes moody, the girl had no idea. There was no reason for her to know, except for the perpetual jokes. Jokes that, like everything in this world, had a grain of truth in them. He didn't just pretend to be a walking encyclopedia of humor. Yes, he definitely liked punchlines, people's reactions to them... But around her, he was getting nervous.
Was it hatred, or perhaps another negative emotion? And even if it was, why? Blaze clearly understood — he couldn't be mad at her for not reading between the lines, not trying to get into double meanings and generally seeing him as... And after all, he really was a great friend. Too good for it not to raise suspicions of something more. Zabini smirked. His self-justification technique was working, but as usual, with every excuse, his heart was ripping.
As soon as the rays of the moon touched the water outside the living room windows, all his reasoning dissolved into the black abyss of the lake. Cold and gloom crept through his bones. Hate, anger, and most of all, disappointment in himself. The night revealed his true feelings, reminded him of another day: once again he remained silent, did nothing to change the situation.
Blaise often witnessed the not-real love his mother lived by: fake, pretentious, and so bitter that it settled on his tongue. But that wasn't what the son had learned from his mother; on the contrary, he had learned what he didn't want to do. Not for any money, privilege, anything — the falseness in such a warm feeling killed all emotion. It left only a stale shell of a man who was doing nothing more later than pretending. But he'd agreed to even that, because he wasn't the one she'd chosen.
Why is it that: someone gets everything and he gets nothing? He clenched his hands, looking at the blurred silhouettes of the mermaids floating in the distance. He didn't even want to be here. This couch, this place just reminded him of her. And in a burst of honesty, Zabini even thought about the fact that he didn't really want to sit in front of the windows for hours on end, trying to see a single sea creature. It was what she wanted, it was her... Sitting alone in front of the glass, not taking her gaze away. They laughed behind her back, throwing cruel phrases, but the expression on her face didn't change.
Blaze smiled sadly. And that joy when she first saw the octopus outside the window? Yes she was jumping with happiness, almost crying. And it was after that time, when the boy saw such a bright smile... Those lips curved into a graceful shape... She was a work of art, which no artist could put on canvas for years. But none of that mattered. It didn't even matter that from that very moment he had been thinking about her tirelessly, accompanying her to classes, and sitting in front of the windows in the evenings. They seemed like portals to her world: so gentle, yet unexpectedly tempestuous.
He couldn't forget the time they'd seen a giant red squid together. The girl had grabbed his hands, screaming that she could swear — she saw the creature eating toast. The guy burst into laughter, but his vocal friend kept standing her ground. Warm little palms continued to hold him for the first, but not the last time. A lot of water had passed since then. They watched the view less and less often, still it remained absolutely unchanged. They rarely took walks after school...
Zabini closed his eyes, returning to the old question: why him and not me? No matter how hard he tried, there was no answer. He leaned his head on his hands resting on his knees and continued to think. No attempt of distraction helped, and the slightest glance towards the glass made him feel unbearably sad. It was the first time he'd ever felt this painful to be here. Usually this place was soothing, but something had changed; something was keeping him from calming down. Again his thoughts, as if with renewed energy, went round and round in circles.
The quiet voices behind him grew closer. Looking up, Blaze froze. She walked slowly beside his friend, smiling back at him. Something clenched in his chest. A sharp feeling of hatred spilled through his veins, but just as quickly faded away. The lips, curved into a graceful shape, did not belong to him. The smile was not his. The girl didn't even notice that in the far corner of the living room, the pathetic semblance of a smile began to drown in tears.