Happy holidays, brightflower! (Cho/Marietta, G) Title: All I Need Author/Artist: ??? Recipient: brightflower @ IJ Rating: G Length/Medium: 1324 words Pairing(s): Cho/Marietta Summary: Being jealous of Potter was entirely different to being jealous of Cedric. Potter was alive, he was male, and he liked Cho. Marietta only had two of those requirements, and one massive drawback. Warning(s): Er. Angst. F/f mentions. Note: I hope it’s not too angsty for you, it sort of … developed its own little thing. I hope you like it, and merry Christmas! :D Oh, and thanks heaps to my lovely beta, who shall remain nameless for now to keep my identity secret. ;)
Marietta sat cross-legged on Cho’s bed as she watched her friend getting ready. Cho’s long fingers ran through her hair, pulling it back into a ponytail; she already had her make up on, though it was nicely understated. Marietta watched her face in the mirror, trying to ignore the sick feeling in her stomach. Every movement Cho made, every brief, nervous smile that flickered on her lips made Marietta’s stomach tense and blood pound furiously.
“What do you think?” asked Cho finally, turning her back on the mirror and smiling brightly but nervously at Marietta.
Her hands were shaking, Marietta noticed; she kept interlocking her fingers, separating them, swinging her arms gently and ending the arc with a soft clap. It was all Marietta could do not to let the sneer cross her face. As it was, the sick feeling in her gut increased and she frowned. Cho looked prettiest when her hair was up – it didn’t hide her face, but a few wispier parts fell around her cheeks, too short to go back into the hairstyle. They acted like a frame, Marietta thought, something soft to highlight Cho’s dark eyes and high cheekbones.
“It looks ridiculous,” said Marietta suddenly, her voice sharp. She was burning all over; even her eyes were hot. Afraid tears would run, she blinked furiously and lay back on the bed so Cho couldn’t see her face. This way Marietta wouldn’t see the hurt look on Cho’s pretty face, either.
There was silence for a few seconds, but to Marietta they felt like hours. The silence rang in her ears and pounded through her body; she had to fight every instinct to sit back up and tell Cho she was sorry. To take her in her arms and tell her that nothing she ever did was ridiculous, that she could never look ridiculous.
Marietta forced herself to lay still and silent, hands folded on her stomach as if the pressure would keep the bile down. Finally, Cho spoke.
“Thanks.”
The soft, hurt tone in that one word ripped a hole in Marietta’s chest; her breath was driven out, capturing the whimper of pain and pushing it into silence. Unable to lie down any longer, afraid of the crushing feeling on her chest, Marietta pushed herself into a sitting position.
Cho was standing in front of the mirror again, looking over her features critically. Marietta felt a stab in her gut as Cho took a piece of hair and began playing with it. Her eyes shifted, focussing on the reflection of Marietta’s own.
“Do you think Harry really likes me?” she asked softly, looking nervous and scared and excited.
For a moment Marietta couldn’t speak; it was as though a weight had dropped into her throat, stretching and blocking it simultaneously. Then, with one determined swallow, the weight passed and she was able to reply.
“Yes, I think he does.”
Amazed at how calm and normal she sounded, she forced herself to stand. Cho’s eyes followed her in the mirror, wary and curious. Marietta looked away, unable to stand the questions in the soft eyes. The hope and trust … so much friendship, so much platonic love … it made Marietta sick.
Fidgeting and slowly edging toward the door, Marietta was careful not to look up at Cho again. She just needed to get out of there. Then she heard her best friend speak again and her eyes were drawn back her.
“Does it really look that bad?”
Cho was playing with her ponytail, running her fingers through it and tugging lightly at the hair tie. She looked so childlike – her innocence mingled with her excitement, but there was an element of fear in her face. Marietta knew why – Cho wasn’t over Cedric yet and felt like she was betraying him somehow. It had annoyed Marietta while Cho went out with him, but now … it was silly to be jealous of a dead guy, she knew that. Sometimes, however, she couldn’t help it.
Being jealous of Potter was entirely different, though. Potter was alive, he was male, and he liked Cho. Marietta only had two of those requirements, and one massive drawback.
She loved her friend, though, and wasn’t going to let her hurt if she could help it.
“No,” she said eventually, moving over to Cho and, after a second’s hesitation, reached out and took the hand that was playing with her hair tie. “You’re beautiful,” she added, squeezing Cho’s hand gently and smiling; Cho returned it, and moved toward Marietta, slipping her arms around her neck and giving her a light, quick embrace that nevertheless left the curly-haired girl blushing and heat race over her skin.
“You’re a good friend, Mari,” said Cho, warmth filling her voice.
Marietta didn’t think so. She didn’t think a good friend would drag emotions through the dirt because she couldn’t make up her mind whether to say the three words she desperately wanted to. It was best left alone, she knew that logically, but every instinct screamed at her to just do it.
“I have to go now.”
She felt dizzy; Cho was stepping away from her, reaching for her bag, one hand smoothing her hair back off her forehead.
“I’m meeting Harry in the entrance hall – are you sure you don’t want to come to Hogsmeade?”
And watch you and Potter snogging?
Her eyes were burning, and she knew she had to get rid of Cho quickly or lose it in front of her – and then there’d be a lot of explaining to do. She knew Cho wouldn’t leave while she was upset, and she refused to ruin her best friend’s happiness any more than she already did.
“No, I have far too much homework to do,” she said, as lightly as she could. She even forced a smile, though it felt tight and false to her. Cho didn’t seem to notice; she was now grinning widely, nervously, and when she looked over at Marietta it was with years of friendship in her eyes.
“You work too much, Mari,” she said, the teasing tone in her voice blunted by affection.
Predictably, Marietta’s heart simultaneously seemed to burst with desire and love, and be pulled into a black hole inside her chest. She wondered if there was any return from there. Potter and his stupid little club. Potter and his war against Umbridge. It sucked Cho in, took her away from the important things. Took her away from Marietta.
She couldn’t speak as Cho leaned over and gave her a light peck on the cheek before racing out the door, long hair shimmering around her shoulders as she went.
Marietta sat down on the edge of her bed and stared at the door. After a few seconds, hot tears burned her eyes and left blisters on her cheeks as they slid, hot and acidic, down her skin. She raised a hand to where Cho had kissed her; the skin was now damp from tears, but she knew where it had been. It still tingled. For some reason, this made her tears fall faster, her whole body jerking from the force of the sobs.
Why did Cho have to kiss him? Why couldn’t she have kissed Marietta under the mistletoe?
Finally, after what seemed like hours, Marietta pulled herself fully onto her bed, drew the curtains, and took her book from her bedside table. Times like this brought out the true Ravenclaw in her – seeking solace in a book was how she handled things best. And she needed to handle this – without hunting Potter down and putting his head on a stick. She thought Cho might look down on that course of action.
Running her fingers through her hair, she found a longer, slightly-straight piece and began twirling it around in her fingers. Maybe she’d talk to Cho when she got back.
And she never knew, maybe Potter was a really bad kisser…