The Losing Edge

Author: Roanne
Pairings: Pansy/Draco
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Pansy had always been the one to listen. But this was different, she would not let him make the choice here.

--

And she could not relive the last time she felt happiness.

She had warned him, she did. But he didn't listen, he never listened. He refused to take orders from others, yes, even her. This was a choice hovering between the space of his desiscion and hers, the very space confirming their future.

Perhaps, she thought, what if I was to let him make his own choice?

But she didn't wait. Parkinsons never waited.

Their last argument said all, she remembered. Why must she be so clung to the past?

~

"Parkinson, I don't need your sympathy," he hissed sharply, his icy gaze seeming to root her to the spot, and Pansy's body went stiff. He walked over to the wall and rested his body against it, one hand in pocket and the other hanging limply to his side.

His scent was all over the place, and when inhaled, she was frozen to the spot.

Pansy refused to accept his request. She had more than a right in the world to tell him no, to tell him she can make her own choices. She wasn't the same when they had first met, maybe he had forgotten. This was nothing but a dare.

"No, Draco, I know this isn't what you want! Stop being so childish!" she shot back, on the edge of yelling. He had treated her with such disrespect over the years, she nearly forgot what she had seen in him; what element had drawn her into the path of love, following his footsteps. He raised his head to look at her, and Pansy covered her mouth, wishing she had not said such things.

"Shut up, there's nothing else I need to hear from you, just leave!" Draco yelled, nearly striking Pansy with his free hand. He stopped himself. "If you hate me that much, then just walk out of my life! I don't need you, and you definitely don't need me. That's what you want, isn't it?"

She lowered her head for words were not so graceful to her. All she could see now was his shoes, black and dull. Droplets clung to her eyelashes and a sniffle escaped her. He stood there for a moment in the deadly silence, before she saw him try to walk away.

This was something she could not control, something that did not come from the Pansy she knew herself to be. Draco had only merely stepped away a couple of inches away from her, and her body sped foward and her shaking arm reached for his sleeve, stopping him, bringing him back.

"No, don't," Pansy's voice quavered, choking back tears. Draco jerked his arm away from her grip, and she rapidly brought her arm away, frightened of what he was going to do next. Her voice did not stop speaking. "No. Don't leave."

"Why is that, Parkinson? You do understand that this is the Dark Lord we're dealing with, and if you don't stop it, he'll kill me!" Draco screamed at her, turning around and his eyes showing such fury Pansy had never laid eyes on before. She wanted to take it all back, to make him happy, to make the both of them happy.

"So what!? The Draco I know - the Draco I knew - would never do this!" Pansy bellowed back, her throat burning. He glared at her before she had caught sight of his eyes softening.

"Indeed," Draco turned away and his back faced her, and he couldn't remember the last time other arms had encircled him. For many a day he had grown cold. "The Draco you knew has changed."

Pansy did not take this to her liking.

"What?"

Draco walked over to the wall of the hallway once more, resting himself against it. He did not want to take a chance to look at Pansy directly in the eyes, for she would look away anyway. It wasn't worth it. But he did not keep her demanding an answer in the silence.

"Dammit, Parkinson, there's something about you," he grimaced, bringing his hand to his head in frustration. "Something that's different from other people. Something that made me change."

"...Draco, I'm sorry," Pansy walked over to him, but managed to bring herself to stop. This was not the right time.

"I can't just leave you, and as much as I wish to never see you again, I'm not strong enough."

She did know how to take this. A good or a bad thing? But he had the power to convince her that this was nothing she could smile about. Pansy had lost her smile.

They both have.

"Draco, what if I...what if I can help you? Join you? And the Dark Lord?"

"Don't be ridiculous, there's nothing you could ever do," he said rather softly. "And that's the last thing I need."

Pansy couldn't control this anymore. She was angry. Really angry.

"Don't you understand anything, Draco?! You won't survive out there alone! Your life is in the Dark Lords' hands, and he won't let you live! Is that what you want!? Do you want to end your life now after living through these brittle, cold years?! You don't get it, do you!? You'll die out there!" She brought her hands to his shoulders, her fingers sinking into his skin fiercely, trying to knock some sense back into him. Draco tried to shove her hands away, but Pansy was not weak. No one even dared to call her weak.

"Heh, when did you care about me, Parkinson? What do you know? You know nothing about me!" he threw at her, finally being able to push her away. Pansy nearly fell backward but the wall that crashed into her back had saved her from a nasty fall. How dare he try to send her away?

"Draco, it's you who's clueless! Don't you get anything?! I shed tears for you, you were my first concern, I put your needs before mine. You were the only person I could trust! You were the one who put meaning into my worthless life!"

Just the sound of raindrops spattering against the glazy window at the end of the hall talked.

"You...you were the one who gave me meaning to live."

He did not say a word.

"...And to think I'd fall in love with such a monster," Pansy wiped a tear away before turning completely around, walking towards the other end of the hallway in Malfoy Mansion, strongly believing she would make it to the exit to take in that relieving, fresh air. Draco was left in question, hesitating to speak. His anger had faded away greatly.

"...What?" he finally spoke out.

No, Pansy would not turn around and explain everything, no, she wouldn't. Her will was fighting against her desire, and she was on the losing edge. She was only a couple of feet away from the door now, almost ready to leave this, to put it all behind her. She didn't care what Draco needed. She did not mind if he didn't want her help. If he had died, it would be his fault. She had nothing to do with this.

Pansy sighed and looked down to her feet before stepping away from the exit. Turning around, she faced him.

Draco was walking towards her slowly, and Pansy began to walk backwards. The doorknob dug into the small of her back as she watched him nearing her, his eyes shining with guilt. She did not know what was happening around her as they locked glances, as slate met hazel, and the only thing she was sure of was that he definitely did not deserve a second chance. That was something she would never give up.

"...Pansy."

And not Parkinson.

She could not scoot back any further, and Draco's nose and her own were nearly in contact. She could feel his hot breath on her neck as her terrified eyes watch his delicate platinum blonde strands sway with just little space above those eyes of his. Those very same eyes that she could never look at for more than a second.

"...No, no," Pansy halfheartedly used her hand to push him away from her, the warmth from his skin still hanging on to her, refusing to let go. She finally opened the door and slammed it behind her, leaving Draco alone in the hallway. Pansy already felt water streaming down her tinted cheeks when she finally made it down the dark steps and out of the entrance, feeling the cold wind allowing her short dark hair to fly for a moment.

And she could not relive the last time she felt happiness.

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