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Tweak says, "I'm not mad about sunlight."

Blaise Zabini (set_a_blaise) wrote in to_be_or_not,
@ 2010-11-18 02:37:00

Entry tags:

*complete, character: blaise zabini, character: draco malfoy, date: 1998 11 (nov), loc: braeburn

RP: Dreams
Date & Time: 18 November 1998 | Wee Small Hours
Post Type: RP
Open To: Private
Character(s): Blaise Zabini, Draco Malfoy
Location: Braeburn Slytherin Boys' Dorm
Summary: Not all dreams are pleasant ones.

He wondered if she even knew there were freckles on the side of her neck under her ear and running back into the nape of her neck in the shape of a constellation. If she did, Blaise was certain she'd interpreted it as a wide letter W and not Cassiopeia. She wasn't the type to think of herself as a queen. In his lucid moments, he wouldn't think of her that way either. It was only in dreams that the ragamuffin Ginny became the queen Ginevra. With her hair up in a twist held by exquisitely carved tortoise shell combs, just the right touch of cosmetics, and wearing a deep green, elegant gown which hugged her form, it was easy to see her potential. Queen Ginevra would never stomp around or dress like a boy. She didn't huff--

Blaise's dream shifted.

Ginny tilted her head back and looked at him upside down, huffing. It wasn't his fault the sun had slipped behind a cloud and spoiled her sunbathing. She turned over onto her freckled tummy and crooked a finger his way. She untied the string on her top, causing Blaise to hustle and drop anchor so he could join her. His lips met that constellation of freckles, drawing forth a moan.

Blaise frowned in his sleep.

The moan sounded like she was in pain. He reached out in his dream to turn her face to his when another noise intruded. Losing the trail of his dream, Blaise rolled on to his back. There it was again. Slowly coming awake, Blaise saw that he'd forgot to close his bed curtains all the way so his privacy charms weren't active. One of his roommates then. He would cheerfully hex whichever one of them had taken him from his sail with the Weaslette. Blaise sat up to grab the bed curtain. He was just about to close it when he realized that the noise was coming from Draco's direction and from the sound of it, it was a far from pleasant dream. Shaking himself awake, he picked up his wand. Blaise respected his own skin too much to wake a Dark wizard from a nightmare without something to defend himself should Draco try to hex first and ask questions later.

"Malfoy," he hissed. "Malfoy, wake up."

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set_a_blaise
2010-11-19 06:20 am UTC (link)

"Hard," Blaise nodded and winced. Moving his head made it throb. "I believe I have the start of a truly spectacular black eye. Next time I'm hexing you to start instead of trying to wake you gently," Blaise grumbled. Hopefully there wouldn't be a next time. It was a forlorn hope, he thought.

"Are they always that bad?" Blaise asked, still looking at his shadowy face in the mirror. His looks were his hallmark. He couldn't possibly run about looking as if he'd been in a Muggle pub brawl.

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purely_draco
2010-11-19 06:43 am UTC (link)

Blaise appeared to be quite focused on his face, and Draco figured he had several minutes before Blaise would look away from the mirror. He pushed his sleeve up and rubbed his arm, kneading deep into the muscles that had started to cramp from tension. He thought about shrugging off Blaise's question, but it seemed a bit idiotic to lie when there'd been a witness. Watching as his parents died were the bad ones. Being their executioner, those were really bad. Tonight's dream had been about normal. "Yeah," he said in a low voice, staring down at his arm. "Yeah, usually. Sometimes they're worse."

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set_a_blaise
2010-11-19 05:52 pm UTC (link)

"Worse?" Blaise's eyebrows shot up -- or rather the one that was capable of it did, the other one simply wiggled the puffy mess that existed where his left eye should be -- as he spun around. "You screamed." If it was bad enough to make him scream yet sometimes they were worse, no wonder Draco didn't like to sleep until he'd exhausted himself. Blaise wasn't dim; he didn't need to ask the reason for the nightmares. Nor did he want to know the content.

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purely_draco
2010-11-19 06:56 pm UTC (link)

Draco jerked his arm against his stomach, startled by how fast Blaise had turned around. If he hadn't been on the floor, he'd have jumped back, the sudden movement shrieking across his nerves. "Yes, Zabini," he snapped, "worse. Those are the ones where I can't scream. Tonight was normal. Welcome to the glamourous life of a Death Eater. Wine, women, and vomiting nightmares. Step right up and get your own brand, it's fucking glorious."

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set_a_blaise
2010-11-19 07:54 pm UTC (link)

"Forgive my concern," Blaise said coolly. He turned around smoothly and rinsed out the flannel before hanging it to dry. His head was throbbing in time with his heartbeat as the blood gushed into his eye and back out again. It was the middle of the night. It would be hours before he would be able to seek attention for his injury. The last thing he wished to deal with at the moment was a Malfoy tantrum.

"Do pick that up before you turn in," he waved his wand in the direction of the flannel Draco had sailed under the sink. "I'm not in the mood to play maid." Or nanny, he thought as he left the room to fetch his dressing gown and slippers. There were a few basic potions in a communal cupboard downstairs. Hopefully there was a headache draught among them.

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purely_draco
2010-11-19 09:15 pm UTC (link)

Draco, lifting his head to gather up his courage and give one of his rare, rare apologies, stopped with his mouth open as Blaise left. He snapped his jaw shut with a click and stared at the doorway for a minute, then glanced away. He was glad he was on the floor, out of view of the mirrors. He didn't want to see his expression right then. He could tell well enough from the ache in his chest and the shaking in his arms how he looked. Hurt, bewildered, angry. Lost. No one needed to see that. Not even himself.

Draco bowed his head to his knees and concentrated, Bella's lessons running through his mind. Wall it up, block it off. Separate what you know from what you're willing to let others see. Ball it up and shove it down. Lock all of it away.

He took a long, shuddering breath, pulled his sleeve down, and got to his feet. When he met his eyes in the mirror, they were blank and empty. He nodded once. He'd get dressed, go out for a smoke, and hit the kitchen for some coffee. This was how it was supposed to be. Nobody needed to see him like that, and he didn't need anybody. Didn't need to talk. Didn't want to talk. He could handle it alone.

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