As the bright spotlights faded and a thousand twinkling fairy lights emerged from the darkness, his hand tightened around hers. The crowd's chatter seemed to fall to a hush as he forcibly led her into the center of a dozen couples. His grip moved to her small waist, pulling her slight frame against his lean body. The lingering scent of gingerbread and holly leaves quickly evaporated, replaced by the strong, masculine smell of his cologne.
She couldn't breathe, entwined in his arms, while everyone was watching. She had meant for only one person to see them dancing; she wanted to be the one in control.
But he gripped her tighter and forced her into a slow waltz, his hips pressed against hers. He leaned in slowly, brushing her cheek with his as he muttered softly in her ear how beautiful she looked. As soon as the cool breath of peppermint passed over her face, she felt a flutter in her heart, a weakness in her knees.
This was wrong , she thought to herself quickly, as his hands slowly made their way to her hips and an icy shiver raced up her spine. She had not intended for him to take it this far. She asked him for the sole purpose of creating jealousy in the boy she truly desired. But he had turned a blind eye and a deaf ear to her actions, while his own girlfriend tugged at his arm and led him away.
The hands around her tensed momentarily at her lack of noticeable response, attempting to redirect her attention to the boy who was currently leading her in slow circles around the dance floor. She met his eyes and allowed herself a small smile, causing him to slightly loosen his defensive hold on her.
He truly was handsome, once she looked at him as a potential romance, rather than an enemy she would use to elicit envy in her friend. His gaze was becoming more intense, reflecting his desires, but she could not look away. He was going to get what he wanted unless she acted quickly.
Her one companion, her lifeboat, had left her, dealing with his own problems far more important than her own trifling matters of emotion. She could not evade him again; she had already excused herself once to the powder room, and she knew that if she feigned illness or created some other lie to avoid contact, he would never stop pursuing her. What sent another unpleasant prickle through her body was the thought that she might enjoy his attempts.
There was no doubt that he was alluring, with his toned arms and sculpted chest that she could see even through the cloth of his dress robes But he wasn't the one.
Then again, was the one she previously thought her perfect match really the one? As his eyes pierced hers with shameless lust, a doubt crossed her mind. Why had she already determined who to love, when she was living in the present? The one she formerly believed could be hers was taken, probably quite occupied at the moment in a deserted corridor, another's arms wrapped around him.
She had dreamed about marrying him one day, raising a family together and forgetting about the worries of the world. But the vision came crashing down during a moment of otherwise joyous celebration when another girl found him and became his. The raw emotion that washed over her in those brief seconds broke her open, forcing her to escape so no one could see her cry. In her weakest state, when comfort was about to enfold her in its arms, he burst in and reopened her wound. And out of the pent-up rage that had tormented her for so long, she attacked him, with reasons still unknown to him.
So why was she resisting the one who currently cradled her gently, yet firmly, to stop herself from becoming his, even now, where everyone could bear witness? She wasn’t looking for true love, only a distraction to delay the time when she would have to confront her emotions. And that distraction was holding her against him, swaying rhythmically to the soft music. The signs were telling her to do it.
One move, and she could lie to herself and say she was happy once more. Everyone would see it and spread the news like wildfire, and she could brush them aside to revel in her newfound joy. All she had to do was meet his eyes and he would do the rest.
The only thing stopping her was a familiar face that swam to the front of her consciousness, one of tender, innocent love that had reassured her for nearly six years that he would always be there. But the sweet smile was a lie, a façade to fool her into unhappiness, leaving her clinging to his every move as she waited for him to decide whether or not he truly wanted her. So she lifted her chin towards Cormac, meeting his hungry gaze with matched passion, her mind made up. And she kissed him, pushing the image of Ron forever out of her mind.
The One by kickingchick94
Chapter Notes: By now, everyone should know that I'm not J.K. Rowling, and most likely, none of the other authors on this website are. But that's why it's a fanfiction site :)
Chapter Endnotes: In two months I never would have guessed that my story would be read over 150 times and I thank everyone who has helped! But what I really would love to see now are reviews! So, please take 10 seconds to add a review, even if it's only two words long. Thank you so much!