#+blaise

There is nothing quite like meeting someone you'll love for the first time.

It's the oddest of feelings; having an undoubted premonition that this person will mean the world to you, and being completely unable to articulate it.

The notion that you will hold someone near and dear is one developed in the first impression. The natural resting appearance of their face, the sparkle in their eye, and the tone of their voice as they speak or do not.

Do you know why Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson can recall in perfect detail the day they first met? Or maybe, what they took note of?

Blaise remembers admiring her confidence — this bubble of a girl skipping along the suffocating corridor of the express. She was moving across to Draco, the boy that she knew already through her father.

Back then Zabini wasn't nearly as cool and confident as he is now, in fact he was a shy mess. He was just quiet enough to hide it. So, when he first saw Pansy Parkinson, Blaise had just gazed stupidly at her as she made Malfoy laugh within half a minute of coming to his side.

The hair on her head was so long and dark, and her eyes were this piercing green, a flower clip in her free locks matching them. He remembers thinking her the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

She had eyed him curiously, looked him up and down without shame and introduced herself without needing to be prompted.

"Hello. I'm Pansy Parkinson." She said, dead serious as she held her hand out to shake his.

He almost stuttered over his words in surprise at her directness, but firmly took her hand in his. "Blaise. Zabini."

Pansy, he thought as he shook her hand, like the flower, the clip in her shiny hair.

Unlike him, Pansy had always been sure of herself. When you grow up in an unstable environment you either crack under the pressure, or become a diamond. She was clearly destined for the latter, already so pampered, poised, and socially savvy.

Her favourite moment of the morning that they first met was when they piled into the tight compartment and she jokingly laid her head on Blaise's shoulder. The boy blushed so quickly and obnoxiously, she still teases him for it. At that age, she didn't even know that people with such dark skin could be seen to have a flush, let alone one so noticeably red. Since then, she joked that she had evoked a unique look of love from him.

It was safe to say that five years on from that fateful day, poor, suffering Blaise was sick of hearing about it.

Thankfully, she had begun to let up recently. They and the rest of their colourful friend group had many other things to talk about. Bothersome academics, sex lives, and dead parents. The frequency of the last two definitely outweighed the first.

Theo's mum took her last breath in the summer, and it had brought up feelings of the past for both Pansy and Blaise.

Pansy's mother died when she was fourteen. They always had a complicated and vitriolic relationship which only worsened as she hit puberty and began screaming back. Grief wasn't exactly the feeling when the woman who gave birth to her died; but rather relief. Her daddy was a patient man — too patient to be anything but cowardly and spineless — and never left her mother. Instead, he stood by as his wife taunted their daughter until her sudden end.

Pansy knew that — beneath the resentment — she loved her father, but she could never find it in herself to forgive him for allowing her life to be ruined before it had even begun.

Alternatively, Blaise's dad passed away when he was two. Any memory of him is constructed from the uncanny live photographs scattered throughout his ever-changing home. Like Pansy, he was never really in the position to grieve— not because his father was cruel, but because he didn't know him.

Blaise's mum only talked about him when she got tipsy. It would always be in a window-facing drawing room, a generous glass of rum in her hand, when she would cry about it. About how he was the only man she ever loved. How she never allowed herself to have true affection for anyone but her son after her husband's demise.

This is clearly inconsiderate of the fact that she married six times after his death.

It's not difficult to imagine the effect this saga had on little Blaise's perception of love. The notion that you'll only ever truly care for someone once was burned into his mind.

Anyway, as a result of Theodore's recent loss, Pansy had been spending even more time with him than usual. It was unsurprising; they had always been close, both having an Italian parent— who now happened to be dead.

They spoke their mother tongue together, understanding each other in a way that you couldn't unless you knew that language. Blaise had always taken great notice of this, how close they were, how similar in background — one abusive parent, and one passive.

Last year, he thought he had enough reason to believe the fact, and had plain asked Pansy if she was in love with Theo. She of course said no. Nott was like a brother to her, one with identical struggles.

That satisfied Zabini, and allowed him to keep his own feelings under wraps. He could handle her parading around with meaningless, nameless hookups, but he wouldn't be able to deal if she got into a relationship with someone she actually cared about— let alone Theodore or one of the others.

It's late October now, and premature winter has started to bite the Scottish highlands. Sleet has already covered the frozen-solid Black Lake, making the windows of the submerged Slytherin common room icy and white.

Pansy was far from the familiar comfort of the dungeons; in one of the side greenhouses nursing her limp puffapod.

A few things were on her mind. Her lacking arithmacy grade, her latest paramour who she couldn't care less about, and what he was in the way of. In all regards, she was tired. Tired of avoiding her past and present.

Pansy wasn't afraid to admit to herself that she was in love beyond the point of no return, she had done so when she was fourteen. The moment she had first said it to herself was as clear as day still; the morning of her mother's funeral.

All of the boys were present, there for the coffin lowering, the brunch, the dinner— which she never understood; no one even liked her mum, why did her dad insist on dragging out this already painfully titular day?

Anyway, the boys left in dribs and drabs throughout the early spring day, but at midnight only Blaise remained. His mum had gone home, just as everyone else had. But he stayed without being asked, he wanted to be there.

Even after a day as long and taxing as that, Pansy didn't want to sleep. Rest was the furthest thing from her mind— only wanting this to be over, the suffocation of emotion to dilute; to leave behind the ever-vulnerable feeling of being an unloved child.

She and Blaise lay on her curtained, cocooned bed from dusk until dawn. Face to face, eye to eye, heart to heart, hand in hand. They spoke of their traumas. She, of the times her mother lost her head. He, of the horrid things that his first stepfather did to him when he was just a little boy. His mum had figured it out for herself. Pansy was the first person he ever told, and the only one who knew such a detailed account.

It was safe to say that she was in her own world, remembering the past, flitting about greenhouse focused on a hundred things at once. Her back was turned to the door as she sprayed the limp pink and purple leaves of the tiny plant before her.

The creaking of the doors' rusting hinges didn't even register in her mind until someone impatiently stormed through the vines of premature mandrakes, causing an eruption of cries.

She jumped, head snapping back to face the sound, seeing Blaise looking rather shy — in a way he hasn't since age twelve — and utterly out of place, rubbing the back of his neck. So much for being smooth.

He watched as Pansy quickly began to coo over them, misting their stems to relax them until their wails turned to whimpers. She sighed and put down the spray bottle.

Blaise huffed softly. "Sorry. I forgot that they do that." Salvaging what was left of his mysteriousness.

Pansy chuckled tiredly and slumped back against the wall. The sound of distant laughter was growing.

Footsteps slowly began, as he took the few paces towards her, stopping a hair's breadth away and looking down at her with a charming smile. "Wanna smoke? The others are outside."

She slowly grew a similar grin, and nodded, holding her hand out for him to take.

Once overlooking the meadow through the frosted glass tunnel, a generously thick joint — courtesy of Enzo — was passed around.

Somehow the conversation had drifted from lessons to parents to hookups. Mattheo's current dalliance(s) being the topic, and Theo's absurdity with it the driving force.

The boy's thin arms flailed with such emotion as he paced, it was like he was going to take flight. "I mean, honestly, you reek of smoke and that cheap body spray shit, behave like a complete and total idiot, and do homework about once a month! Why the fuck do girls want to shag you?"

The others all chuckled at his exasperation, Draco nursing Nott's cigarette as he sat next to Pansy — red-eyed and blissed out.

The wind whistled through the glass corridor, Parkinson's voice mixing with it as she blew out a ghost of smog and handed the joint off to Blaise. "Theodore, you consider doing homework a way to arouse girls. It's no wonder Riddle has sex and you don't."

Nott scoffed and snatched his cigarette from Draco, "You know what I mean, Pansy! He's utterly unserious. What's the appeal?" snapping into the open of this glass corridor, filling with Matthew's giggles— the boy laid flat on the plain of faux-grass, just working to piss Theo off even more.

Pansy laughed and blew out a puff of smoke, shifting how she sat to lean her weight against Blaise's side. He accepted silently and graciously, wrapping an arm around her waist to steady her.

"The lack of seriousness is the appeal, Theodore. Any girl going for Matt isn't looking for stability. They just want fun." Pansy said plainly, head tilted like it's obvious.

Shit-stirring Malfoy chimed in from beside her, chuckling. "Davies doesn't want fun with you."

That earned an eye roll from her.

Blaise zoned out at that, staring down at the joint in his hand as ash began to fall from its tip. Pansy shifted in his grip. Unbeknownst to himself, his arm had tightened around her.

Jealousy is such a pathetic feeling, one that seemed to follow him everywhere he went.

Pansy was such an elusive little creature. She was everywhere and nowhere at the exact same time, always off with one of her playthings or girlfriends. Impossible to track down or pin to a crime.

Though she didn't care enough to cover her tracks when it came to her toys.

As Malfoy had teased yesterday, Roger Davies — ravenclaw's quidditch captain — was her latest. It was understandable; he was tall and some would say handsome— though Blaise wouldn't. He also chased Pansy like he was bewitched, which — truly — he was.

It was sad how he vied for her attention. Staring across at the Slytherin table during meals just to eye-fuck her, calling out her name in the corridors when she was half a mile in front of him, and even offering to do her bloody homework. It was honestly depressing to watch. The boys laughed at him.

She was never going to be anything of his. It wasn't her fault that he had fallen in love; she warned him of her motives in the beginning.

The stone clocktower corridor opened out onto the grassy courtyard, the west one, where the sunsets were most beautiful. There the boys were gathered, having cast warming charms beneath their favourite willow, taking part in an oddly cute picnic as they chatted.

Blaise was laughing uncontrollably with Draco, after Lorenzo had put an orange segment between his lips to form a smile, and shot its juice at Theo's face.

Said Italian was pouting as he sipped his tea. "Where's Pansy?" He asked as he stretched his long thin legs out, the question hanging between them all, though truly aimed for one person.

Zabini didn't like the answer that he had — that she had been pulled into a broom closet — but spoke it anyway. "Getting her rocks off."

Draco made that annoying owl sound, like an airy whistle, the one that he always had to make when anything of a sexual nature was brought up. "And I thought I was bad."

Mattheo scoffed and spoke through a mouth muffled by croissant. "You barely get any." Malfoy's smirk vanished, beginning to spit back, though Nott tapped his knee to stop him, looking to his left.

It was golden hour, and that reflected like the shine on Pansy's hair as she speed-walked away from Davies, the urgency marked by the click of her heels against the old stone of the open corridor. He was jogging beside her, leaned down to her level to appear calmer, more vulnerable, more convincing… I don't know, and it's not like he did.

The boys on the grass had shushed themselves, within a moment an ear was conjured by a wand and outstretched to hear the conversation.

There was a very desperate look on the Ravenclaw's face, expressed by the furrow of his brows and the dilation of his eyes. "I'm sorry, okay! I didn't mean to upset you, but come on, are we seriously nothing?"

She stopped dead and hissed up at him. "Yes, Roger!"

That rendered him speechless, if only for a second. "How can you be so cold, Pansy? I tell you I love you and you just run?"

A short breath left her, turning on her heel and pacing away once again. "We're done!"

Davies' face dropped completely at that. He looked as if he might cry.

Pansy just jogged out onto the grass, long hair swishing as she moved towards the boys who all looked at her with raised eyebrows. All but Blaise, his pupils were massive and desperate, his expression relaxed, yet still managing to be pained.

A vine of the tree was tugged from its home by her frustrated fist, as she huffed and threw herself onto the ground. "You're all so fucking nosy."

An hour later the others had disappeared. It was just she and Zabini, leaned back against the tree's thick trunk, legs stretched out. Pansy's head lay on his shoulder, Blaise's arm around her waist, rubbing slowly and mindlessly.

The question was of course on his mind — more so questions*, plural.

 "Are we going to talk about it or…" He asked quietly.

Pansy just sighed. The events of the afternoon were a shock to her as well. She knew that Roger was overly fond of her, but not that he literally believed himself to be in love. In a way, she was almost offended. How dare he profess something like that when he had no clue who she really was?

"I guess." She said quietly, the leaves of the tree whispering around them like a veil of privacy.

Blaise breathed out, leaning his head against hers. The sentence hurt to voice. "So, you finished messing about in the cupboard and he just said it?"

"No." She huffed, shutting her eyes as the bleeding sun shone on them. "We hadn't even started. He pulled me in there and immediately blurted it out… I just ran."

"It scared you?"

Pansy went silent at that, and stayed that way for a few moments. To tell the truth, those words did scare her — scare is even too gentle of a word, she was petrified — to hear them.

Maybe the idea of receiving romantic love as a whole was what made her skin crawl. She had no problem telling her friends that she loved them. Theo, Enzo, and Matt heard it all the time, and even Draco when he was in the mood to accept a hug.

Blaise never heard it. Not because she didn't want to say it, but because she wouldn't be able to get those words out without meaning it deeply. If she told him she loved him, it wouldn't be platonic.

"Dunno." Lie. "He couldn't love me, anyway. He doesn't know me." A careful beat. "Not like you do."

That made him smile, free hand taking a hold of hers, thumb stroking the back of it. "Yeah? Like how you get mean when the muffins run out before you can get one?"

At that, she chuckled. "Yeah, I s'pose."

He hummed in contentment against her hair, taking in her scent of white jasmine and cherryblossom. He noted inwardly that she had used the new pink-bottled bodywash she bought when they were last out, and the perfume that Draco had mixed up for her birthday. She always smelled like a garden in summer.

"You smell nice." Orange sun fading as he began to amuse himself. His free hand played in her hair, scratching gently at her scalp.

Pansy hummed, tilting her head to look up into his dark eyes. "Do you still think of your dad a lot?"

Blaise's brows furrowed a little in surprise, caught off guard. Though she didn't let him put up walls, intertwining their fingers as she stared up at him. At that he relaxed, and rubbed her waist slowly. "Not really. I mean, I never knew him. You know that; I have nothing to miss."

Pansy nodded slowly, and tucked her head into his neck, letting go of his hand and curling hers around his bicep.

"Mum's been talking about him in our letters, though. I sent her that picture of all of us on the lake last week, she says I look like him more by the day." He said softly, cupping the side of her head in his hand.

This affection was so casual for them. Pansy was definitely one to show her care through touch — she did it with everyone, hugged all of the boys and her girlfriends — but Blaise wasn't really. He was always firm on his boundaries, never wishing to feel overpowered like he once did. Though Pansy was the exception to his rule of personal space— something Enzo pouted over.

"It must be hard for her to see you be so like him. Joy and anguish all in one."

He huffed softly in reply, thumb stroking along the side of her head. "I think she's just nostalgic. Herbert should be hitting his expiration date soon."

Pansy grinned. "Two years is a record for your mum. She must like this one."

Blaise didn't usually bring up his stepfathers. It was always a slippery slope that ended with him being reminded of the traumas of his childhood. Though he never minded when it was with her. She had a natural way of comforting, doing so without even realising.

"Eh. He's old and boring. She likes his money, and that he's forgotten there's a spell that could help him get it up."

The girl next to him chuckled, leaning herself into his embrace even more. "You might miss this one. He doesn't try to parent you like Alexander did."

"He was so annoying." Blaise scoffed, resting his chin atop her head. "Herbert knows his place, at least."

"Mm, he treated us all like we were criminals."

Zabini hummed in agreement, scratching along her scalp mindlessly. "We spent a lot of time at the hall that year."

Pansy chuckled. "The whole of it spent tormenting my father."

Blaise cleared his throat. "Speaking of Florian, when did you last write him?"

It was known throughout their group that she would do anything to avoid communicating with her father. Correspondence of any form with him only brought up memories she wished to forget.

Hence why she ignored him for such long periods. "Uh…two, three weeks?"

Blaise sighed softly. "That's a bit longer than usual."

Pansy joined him in sighing and shut her eyes. "He brought up my mother in his last letter. I don't want to read the new ones." She avoided any mention of that horrid woman, but she couldn't always escape it.

The wind whistled quietly again, whispering through the leaves of surrounding plants mirroring the pair's breath.

The boy next to her nodded, scratching at her scalp gently to comfort her. "I can read them, if you want. Parody daddy dearest to cheer you up."

Pansy chuckled and let it fizzle out. "No… I have to." Her voice softened. "It's just hard. Whenever I think about him, I feel little and helpless. Like the same battered child begging him to help."

Blaise sighed softly, heart clenching to think of her bruised and vulnerable. His lips pressed against her head.

Pansy sniffled, burying her face in his neck and breathing in today's cologne to distract herself. Its name eludes her, but it's one of her favourites. Warm, earthy, and musky, like petrichor with a dash of spice.

Slowly, he began to rub her back, voice soft and hopeful as he began. "You wanna come to our room? Theo finally fixed his makeshift projector, we can watch a film."

"I dunno. I don't feel good."

Saying that was a mistake — Blaise was a complete health freak, and had half of a healer's kit in his trunk. He made the move to quickly unwind his arm from around her and straightened up, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead. "What is it?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Cramps, Pomfrey."

"Oh." He said quietly, relaxing again, letting his hand drop from her forehead to her shoulder. "I know they make you groggy, but my stash of pain potions is massive again. I brewed more last week."

She nodded in reply, eyes half-lidded and lazy as they gazed upon him. "Yeah. I'll take one." Slouching even further back against the tree, messing with the fabric of her skirt as he stood up.

Skin like his always glistened beautifully in this orange light, the rays even catching in his dark eyes. It was like he got more handsome by the day, unintentionally seducing her with rolled sleeves and a loose tie.

"C'mon, darling." His strong biceps flexed tightly against the seams of his sleeves as he grabbed her wrists, pulling her up with little effort.

The evening was nice and calming. They all piled onto Draco's bed and watched the shitty remake of Babbity Rabbity that the prophet raved about. After, Pansy returned to her room yawning, desperate to get into bed. She had just gotten out of the bathroom and was brushing her hair when Daphne finally broke the silence.

"Why did I see you cuddling with Blaise in the courtyard earlier?"

Parkinson shut her eyes at that, groaning and rubbing a hand over her face.

Greengrass shifted onto her stomach, the mattress creaked as she looked at her friend with boredom. "You know he like, loves you."

Pansy scoffed, haphazardly placing her hairbrush on the bedside table."Give it up, Daphne."

"You give it up. I'm right." She said as she retreated to the door.

"Goodnight."

Greengrass scoffed, but took the hint and left.

Parkinson flicked the lights off magically and crawled into bed. It was silent, the pitch black room being little comfort. The bed was cold. It had her wanting to be in Blaise's. He was always so warm.

The next morning she and Nott had a lie in. Neither of them do divination so they had two hours until they were busied.

The pair went for a long walk around the castle and ended up in the seventh floor corridor, lazing in one of the alcoves as Theodore smoked.

"I think Matt's catching feelings for his hookup. The ravenclaw."

"Really?"

"Mm. He looks at her the way Zabini looks at you."

Pansy scoffed and nudged her heel into his stomach in retaliation. Nott just grabbed the sole and pushed it away.

"What'll it take for you to admit it, Pans?"

"What does it matter? It won't change anything." She grumbled, cheek pressed against the freezing stained glass window.

"You're stupid if you believe that." Theo replied, flicking his cigarette butt away and leaning forward. "And you're a lot of things, but an idiot isn't one of them."

Pansy sighed. "I obviously have feelings for him- But you know Blaise, he's just so…"

Theo chuckled. "Yeah, "just so" with you. Do you see him kissing Malfoy on the head?"

"What the fuck are you barking on about, Nott?" Draco's voice suddenly interjected, higher than usual, cracking on the last word.

Pansy and Theo giggled together.

Two days later, it was finally Saturday.

The boys — bar Theo — had risen early for quidditch, Pucey's abusive sleep-deprivation tactics made them more obedient. They all returned to their room at seven, seeing Nott still balled up in bed.

Berkshire's bunny was curled up next to his head. Draco laughed. Enzo jumped on the bed with him and picked up the ball of fluff, rubbing its head like it was a baby.

"Go away." Theodore groaned, pulling the covers over his head and jabbing his foot into Lorenzo's thigh.

"Moody." Enzo murmured, unbothered as he stood up just to flop onto his own bed, holding his cotton ball close.

Blaise looked at him in amusement, grabbing an extra layer, then pulling a dark hoodie on. "Theo, you wanna get tea?"

Another grumble came from under the covers, one that swiftly turned to a shriek when Mattheo tickled him through the duvet. He scoffed and crawled out of bed, reaching for a jumper. "It's not like I'll get anymore sleep with all of you in here." Walking with Blaise towards the door.

They strolled up the stairs silently, then sat in the common room while they sipped their drinks.

Eventually they finished, and Blaise headed down the girls' stairs to wake Pansy.

"Do you have anything you'd like to tell me?" Nott called down the stairs.

Zabini shrugged, his shoes tapping the stone steps quietly. "Your hair's a mess."

If anyone knew about the pair's feelings, it was Theo. He and Pansy were so close, along with he and Blaise. He was the most of observant of the boys, and his idea that the two were pathetically in love was only confirmed by his chat with Pansy the other day.

Blaise continued until he got to Pansy's room. He didn't knock, only whispered the password and made his way in silently.

Waking her wasn't a guilty pleasure of his; rather watching her sleep. That sounds too creepy to say out loud. He likes to see her without the mar of stress.

As he walked over to her bed, he saw her curled up beneath the covers, hair messy, eyes shut. Beautiful.

Quietly and carefully, he pulled over her vanity chair and took a seat there, admiring her silently. A hand reached out, tucking her mussed black hair behind her ear. His fingers lingering on her cheek, stroking slowly.

He was reminded in this moment that Pansy was that one love his mum always banged on about. The singular being that you devote your heart to and never look back, that being that you would be satisfied in serving if it brought them the slightest ounce of happiness.

Caresses of her smooth face continued for probably half an hour, until Pansy began to stir, face nuzzling his hand without knowing. Eyes fluttered open, fuzzy and indolent when they locked on his.

"Morning." He said gruffly, playing off touching her cheek by brushing some hair back again.

"Mm, hey." Pansy murmured back, yawning softly and forcing herself to sit up. She was used to waking up like this.

It took her a few moments to get her her surroundings, eyes lingering on the pile of letters on her bedside table. She had sent her father a letter last night just to let him know that she was alive, but hadn't bothered to read the backlog of ignored messages from the past month.

Ten minutes later the pair both lay in her bed, the covers having parchment galore spread over them.

Pansy was laughing over how desperate the greeting got over time, laid across Blaise, using his stomach as a headrest.

"From "Pansy" to "My sweet little girl". Salazar, he's suffocating." The chuckle trailing off into a sigh.

Zabini hummed softly, playing with her silky hair. "I hope you replied with "Daddy dearest"." She laughed.

The plan was to spend the evening in Hogsmeade after they all lazed about for the day. Though Draco had to go home for something or another and Mattheo just didn't come. Said he needed sleep.

It was just Enzo, Theo, Blaise, and Pansy.

The last of them highly regretted her choice of clothing the moment they got to the village, for not even the fleece tights below her tiny skirt could combat the building winter's power. So, Zabini gallantly said that he didn't want to be out anyway — frankly, he didn't care, he only wanted to be where she was — so they walked back to the castle, and once again found themselves alone in her room.

Blaise had been struggling all morning with impure thoughts. Ever since she woke up in that thin top with her nipples poking out, to now, sitting with her legs crossed in a skirt so tiny that the smallest movement would have him be flashed.

He never really knew what to do when he had feelings like that. Not only because it was Pansy, and he shouldn't be thinking of her like that, disrespecting her by imagining such scenarios… But also because of his past.

Since those dark nights of his childhood, he had changed. Grew to tower others, and trained tirelessly to be strong; with muscles large enough to protect himself from once again falling victim to the things he once suffered. Though on the inside, he would always feel like that five year old. The one in broom and star pyjamas, wondering what was happening, and what he had done to make mummy's husband want to hurt him like this.

The reminder that Blaise forced on himself was constant— that man is dead. He can't touch him anymore. Though, inner ghosts can't ever be killed. They haunt eternally. And every time he thought of doing something intimate, the ghosts popped up.

Blaise had done things with girls before. He had only done hand stuff. Got sticky-fingered in a broom cupboard, and stopped when they reached for his belt.

It was uncomfortable to even think about being touched there, let alone be groped by some girl from charms… So, he abstained. By choice, he remained the only virgin in the group. That is if you don't count Theo.

Pansy had no idea the torture he was being subjected to right now, as she sat beside him on her bed, twirling her hair and talking about nothing.

"Do you think about the future a lot? Like… marriage and shit?" She asked because she had been recently. Constantly imagining those scenarios with the boy beside her.

Blaise was pulled out of his trance, meeting her deep green eyes as he forced himself to think slightly intelligent thoughts. "Yeah. I think I do."

"Who would you marry? Only a pureblood?" She asked as she fiddled with her rings.

"Yeah. I don't think a half blood would understand me. We have such different upbringings. Plus, they'd be horrified by my family."

Pansy laughed and took his hand, messing with his rings instead. "Your mum's an icon. If I don't find someone to love, I might follow in her footsteps."

Blaise huffed in amusement, enjoying the way her soft hands caressed his. "Mm." Laying his head on her shoulder.

"What about you, who would you marry?"

Parkinson breathed out silently, raising a hand to cup the side of his head.

"Someone calm… and striking."

"Of course."

She laughed softly, scratching at his scalp. "You'd be a good husband."

Blaise huffed at that, stroking the back of her hand as it still spun his rings. He wasn't sure what she meant by that, if she meant he'd be a good husband for her.

"You're level-headed." The carefully pressed pillowcase crinkled as she turned her head to look into his eyes, pinching his cheek gently, like you would a cute child. "And pretty. Plus, you're smart. There's a real shortage of competent men."

Zabini hummed, tucking loose hair behind her ear. They were so close…his eyes were locked onto her glossy lips. "You're prettier than I am," Looking up to meet her gaze. "not to mention smarter."

"You're such a flatterer." Pansy smiled, thumb brushing along his cheekbone.

It was moments like this that made it so impossible to hold in what she felt, when he wore that caring grin that he rarely held for anyone else.

"I'm not. You are beautiful." He leaned his head into her hand, desperate to lean in and kiss her cherry-stained lips.

A soft breath left her, still brushing the pad of her thumb over his cheekbone, admiring him silently. It was like her heart had learned to beat all over again, quickening from just a look exchanged with him. Salazar, was he it; her desire, the object of her longing.

As her piercing green eyes penetrated his own heart, Blaise decided that he couldn't hold back any longer. He was unsure how he ever had, most especially during times like these when they were inches away from losing themselves in one another.

In this moment he had no doubts. He knew his feelings, Merlin, he had known them since he was eleven years old.

Pansy was the one. There was no avoiding it, no getting over her. Nor did he want those things. He only wanted her, and he was willing to take the risk if it meant having her wholly.

His hand on her jaw stilled, voice quiet and truthful. He couldn't know what she would say, but he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"I love you, Pansy."

At that, her eyes widened and jaw slackened slightly. Not a thought passed through her mind, all of her frozen as she stared at him.

Though she swiftly found herself again, and ecstatically dove in to kiss him, hands tightly gripping his cheeks as his held her jaw and nape, unintentionally ruffling her dark hair.

Blaise breathed quickly into her mouth, unable to think of anything other than the taste of her lipgloss.

Merlin, she was kissing him, not slapping him or kicking him out for saying such egregious things…

Pansy's tongue was in his mouth before she realised what she was doing, pulling back breathlessly and just staring at him.

The room felt stuffy, her cheeks so hot and flushed… His hand was holding her jaw, his eyes like that of a puppy, begging her to do something.

"Blaise.."

As much as it pained him, he shook his head slightly, brushing her lip with his thumb. "You don't have to say it back."

A disbelieving breath left her, a smile gathering. Did he really think that after all of this that she didn't feel the same?

"What d'you mean? Of course I love you." She said plainly before diving back in to press another firm kiss to his lips.

He received it happily, laughing into the kiss and holding her waist tightly until she pulled back and hugged him, burying her face in his neck. Blaise cupped the back of her head gently, leaning his against hers, hand drifting along her back slowly.

For a moment he just sighed, taking in the feel of her against him, along with the thrum of victory inside of him. He felt high. He had to take advantage of it.

"I'm gonna ask you something, and I'd really like it if you didn't run off." He murmured quietly into her hair, gathering courage as he remembered the recent incident with Davies.

"Mm?" Pansy hummed, straightening up to look into his eyes, smiling sweetly, her green eyes glittering.

"Will you be my girlfriend?" The ask was soft and loving — though not without fear — hand moving to her smooth cheek as his uncharacteristically nervous gaze awaited.

Immediately she nodded — avidly, without a hint of hesitation — and pecked him on the lips again for good measure. He huffed softly and pulled her atop him.

Pansy happily straddled him, unable to hold herself back from bathing him in the affection she'd held in for so long. She took his face in her hands and peppered kisses along it, from hairline to eyelid; everywhere.

Blaise laughed heartily, utterly overjoyed with this innocent love.

That was until his now girlfriend sat down fully, rubbing herself against him without realising.

Pansy shifted — sitting in a way that had her unaware of his growing issue — arms joining over his shoulders as she kissed his cheek. "Boyfriend… it's so weird to say."

A careful smile grew on his face, hands slipping to her waist. "I know." Hoping she didn't notice his issue.

The mattress dented just barely when she shifted forward, pressing her chest and forehead against his.

Then she felt it.

Blaise opened his mouth but couldn't get anything out, growing the rare flush only visible in the warm light of her dorm. Pansy just smiled comfortingly and adjusted how she sat.

"It's okay." Cupping his face gently, her other hand brushing his nape as she leaned in, kissing his lips slowly and pulling back to grin at him still. "We don't have to do anything."

Those words meant everything to him. They confirmed what he already knew; that his trust in her wasn't misplaced. She wouldn't ever take advantage of him, she loved him. It only made him more sure of his decision.

"I want to, Pansy."

"Are you sure?"

As his hand drifted along her back, he nodded, leaning in to kiss her neck.

Fingers drifted beneath her top, leaving fire in their wake as they gripped the hem. "Can I?" He murmured between kisses, sucking below her ear.

Pansy didn't reply, only pulled the fabric over her head. She didn't have a bra on.

Shamefully, he had imagined her like this many times before — topless atop him — yet his imagination paled in comparison to the real picture. Her breasts were the perfect shape, round and pronounced, fitting perfectly in his cold, ringed hands. The shade of her lips was identical to that of her nipples.

Blaise cupped her boobs in his hands and leaning in to worship the valley between them. "Beautiful."

A soft gasp left her as he twisted a nipple, rocking her hips against his hardness. He responded quickly, tugging off his jumper and kissing her deeply.

Hot breath filled the room as their tongues brushed, he took hold of her waist with his strong, toned arms and guided her to roll against his cock, giving quiet sounds of pleasure as he sneaked a hand between her legs, abs flexing from how he sat.

"This okay?" Murmured into her mouth, Pansy gripping his shoulder and nape in anticipation.

"Yeah." Said breathlessly before she dove back into the kiss.

Blaise wasted no time in touching her, rubbing over the lace of her knickers for barely a moment — he needed to hear her moan — before spreading her folds and tease her clenching heat. He was nothing short of emboldened by what he was met with. "So wet." He chuckled, breaking the kisses to suck at her jaw while circling her clit.

"Mm…" She whined into his ear, rolling her hips into his hand. Her nails dug into his nape unintentionally, her other hand reaching down to his stomach, brushing the well-groomed trail of hair there, then drifting over his bulge. "Can I?"

"Mhm. I trust you." The fluid hum of words was quick, pulling her closer to kiss her jaw.

"Blaise," She said softly, taking hold of his neck to gently push him back until he was looking up at her, confused. "relax. I'm not going anywhere."

At that he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, and nodded.

Pansy made quick work of his belt, but got off of his lap and allowed him to take off his trousers himself, all the while she dropped her skirt and flimsy thong.

Blaise undressed but stayed sat up on the bed, only now his throbbing hardness was exposed. He felt small waiting for her, a jitter running through him as the reality of what he was about to do set in.

Of course he wanted it; he wanted to be close to the girl that he loved, he wanted to feel the mind-numbing pleasure everyone's always banging on about— he wanted true intimacy, but a part of him was still afraid to let himself be exposed like that again.

Pansy noticed how he stared dead ahead, almost clenched as his knees rose up the slightest bit. She — now fully naked — sat on the edge of the bed, reaching out a hand to touch his cheek, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to the side of his temple.

"I mean what I said. We don't have to do anything. Not ever."

Blaise leaned his head against her shoulder for a moment, wrapping his arms around her. Nothing was being pushed on him, only her comforting hands scratching his scalp.

"I'm sure about this, Pans." Pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "Now come here." Pulling her on top of him.

Pansy giggled, getting herself situated before finally glancing down.

"Dear Merlin…" She laughed, eyeing him with surprise of her own.

It was far too long, and far too thick, and pulsing — literally pulsing — the veins were struggling, and the tip was leaking already.

Blaise huffed, face flushing with a combination of embarrassment and arousal as she sat naked on his lap. "C'mere."

Pansy happily obliged, leaning in to kiss him and reaching a hand down to wrap around him, beginning to move slowly. His hands caressed her ass and tits, breathing roughly as he gave himself to the feeling, to her.

The kiss paused for a moment, her murmuring against his mouth as her wrist quickened just slightly. "Still okay?" Brushing her thumb over the weeping tip.

Blaise jerked, close already. "Woah-"

Pansy matched his motion, immediately letting go and straightening up. She was terrified of making him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry."

A soft breath left him as he shook his head, reaching a hand up to hold her face. "No, it's not that. You're just too good at this," Eyes glancing at her chest then back to her wide gaze. "and too pretty. I don't want to cum before even putting it in."

There was heat in her already, but those words set her on fire. Pansy let go of him, placing her hands on his shoulders and lining him up with her warm entrance as it clenched around nothing.

"Yeah?" She whispered, cupping the back of his neck. Blaise nodded instantly. She sank down.

Immediately the bed creaked, and the pair gasped— let's hope silencio was cast around the room.

Pansy whined when he entered, the stretch impossible. Blaise let out a strangled sound of ecstasy, gripping her waist desperately. How did he ever live without this?

She gathered herself for a long moment and then began to move up and down slowly, face buried in his neck as she moaned. The thick, stocky tip of his cock was hitting every spot inside of her, pushing her walls apart as the shaft invaded.

"Fuck," She knew he was big when she saw it, but having him was a completely different story. "you're huge."

Blaise cursed under his breath, one hand gripping her ass as the other held her hip, guiding as she rocked slowly. "Pansy, I can't-"

Inexperience combined with unimaginable pleasure had done a number on Zabini. When she reached a hand down to circle her clit, tightening the already soaked, dripping warmth, and keening so wanton in his ear, he felt he was unable to hold it in. Blaise's balls were tight as his vocal cords, grunts and moans leaving him as he gasped, pronounced adam's apple bobbing with struggle.

An obnoxious, hitched whine left Pansy, feeling his massive length bully her insides apart. Between her legs was soaked and throbbing, barely able to tolerate him yet desperate for more. "I'm so close, baby." She breathed out, beginning to bounce and clenching around him so tightly that she felt the veins on his thick cock drag along her walls.

Blaise's eyes were rolled back when she kissed him, fingertips digging into her skin, but Merlin, did he try to reciprocate.

It was messy and sloppy, as uncoordinated as Pansy's desperate bounces despite how her boyfriend tried to aid with a grip on her hips. It was a display of animalistic hunger melded with adoration that's been caged for six years. Their amalgamated spit and drool dripped down their chins.

"I love you." Blaise moaned into her mouth, voice trailing off into a high whine, she was unable to respond, heart beating with a deafening intensity. He was so incredibly close, the coil inside of him tightening more quickly than it had ever before.

"I'm sorry." He gasped out gruffly, about to explode, yet utterly unaware that Pansy was too.

The headboard smacked against the dungeons' stone wall, filling the cold space with the heat only two desperate bodies can produce. Pansy's rushing fingers had her clamping down on him and crying out. Gripping his bicep for stability.

"'M- Blaise."

Somehow, some way, they peaked simultaneously.

Both of their bodies shuddered, Blaise holding his girlfriend's waist for dear life as he pumped her full of sticky, white-hot cum. Pansy whimpered at the feeling, the sound escaping almost like a sob.

They came down together, hearts so close they had turned to one.

There was a thin layer of sweat on Blaise's skin, effervescent from the darkness of his complexion and the warmth of the light. The grip he had on his girlfriend was so tight that there were red marks all over her.

Slowly, Pansy's breaths began to even, cupping the back of her boyfriend's head to keep him close.

"I love you." She murmured softly, untucking her head from his neck to lean her forehead against his. "Couldn't say it back, you're so big it made me dumb." She breathed, bemused but struggling still, pecking his lips.

Blaise huffed in amusement, still processing and unable to form a thought as she sat on him.

Pansy got off of him after a lingering moment, murmuring a spell to clean them both of the slick aftermath, and to protect her from anything unwanted as a result of their fun. Practiced hands fixed her messy hair, smoothing it out and guiding the parting back straight.

Zabini stared in obsequiousness, toned chest still wracking with effort, pupils blown with pure limerence. "You're breathtaking."

Parkinson smiled, crawling into his arms joyfully. Blaise pulled the covers over them and drew her close. A smile played at his lips as he cupped her cheek and pressed a long kiss to her temple, his other large hand firm on her back. She shared his grin, nuzzling her head into his palm, laying a leg over his to get even closer.

"Was it everything you dreamed of?" She teased, heavy eyelids shutting.

The duvet rustled as Blaise carefully tucked it around them, ensuring her warmth. "And more. I'm so glad it was you." The words were soft and vulnerable, but he felt no fear voicing them as he lay naked in this embrace.

Pansy kept her smile, turning her head to kiss his palm, then nuzzling it once again. "Thank you for trusting me." The lids of her eyes gave way to green, piercing his brown.

"It'd be a shame if I didn't." He sarcasmed, still unable to believe the words he would say next. "You're my girlfriend." Parkinson huffed softly at that, a pleased grin growing.

This comfort after intimacy was something she had never known, to be held in a toasty hug and engage in banter with someone who knew her soul. It had been her own choice not to be cared for after a shag, she didn't want to cuddle with someone that wasn't him.

"The boys are going to go mad when they find out you're not a virgin anymore." The words were drowsy, Blaise's expert hand playing with her hair.

"Bigger things than sex happened this evening."

Pansy hummed contentedly, yawning. Then she forced herself to adjust, lest she fall asleep and end this perfect moment. She shifted slightly, guiding his head onto her chest. Zabini accepted without protest, glad to use her breasts as a pillow and wrap his arms around her.

"Theo's going to be insufferable." The words coming from the person who knew Nott like the back of her hand, as she slowly scratched her nails along her boyfriend's back, feeling the contour of muscle beneath her gentle fingertips.

"Not as insufferable as we're going to be." He murmured, voice gentle with the solace of afterglow, shutting his eyes as she stroked her thumb along his eyebrow. "Mm. You've lovely boobs, y'know." He said genuinely, hand caressing one in an indolent manner.

A lazy chuckle left her. "And you've a massive dick. I'm honestly offended that you didn't let me have it earlier."

Blaise smirked, listening to her heartbeat as he delighted in their position. "I would've given it to you happily, had you used your words and asked."

Pansy rolled her eyes and yawned again, resting her head atop his and breathing in his scent just as he did hers.

Blaise sighed softly, constricting his arms around her so that she had no chance of escaping. "I'm so glad I have you now, darling. I'm not sure how much longer I could've coped in purgatory."

A quiet hum left Pansy, thankful for how he shifted onto his side, tucking her head into his neck.

The words from his soft lips reminded her just how dire things had been. Nothing had been funny recently. Nothing satisfied her. No amount of food, orgasms, or unending attention from pathetic beggar boys — and occasionally girls — who sook her in a way she would never give herself out.

He was the only thing that could fix her apathy. This skin to skin embrace was the only thing that could comfort her restless being. It was enormous compared to the shallow pleasures of the flesh she so often engaged in. This meant everything.

"..What made you say it?"

Blaise breathed out as he contemplated, scratching slowly at her back and scalp. "You and your pretty, pretty face were so close. I couldn't stop myself. I've spent so long waiting, Pansy, I couldn't do it any more."

"How long?" She murmured, meeting his eye curiously.

A slow, rhythmic breath left him, cupping her cheek and stroking it silently for a moment. He had a feeling she knew just how long.

"Since the day we met, when you strutted up to me and just insisted on shaking my hand."

The memory warmed her, an amused smile gracing her lips, but softening quickly. "Six years."

He nodded, unguarded as he leaned his forehead against hers. "So worth it."

Pansy rubbed her nose against his playfully, settling her head in his hand. "I remember the exact moment that I began to want you." She whispered.

Zabini leaned closer as that, drawing her fully on top of him. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She smiled brightly, voice gentle as her curtain bangs almost blocked her gaze. "In first year potions, Snape's. I zoned out and he called my name, you whispered the answer. When I turned to the side to thank you my thoughts just filled with how how adorable you were." Reaching up a hand to pinch his cheek lightly, getting a grin from him.

Blaise tucked the silky strands of hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger on her face. "I do remember being utterly irate at Snape when he changed the seats, but I was hardly going to tell Severus about my crush on this stunning girl."

"Shy little love-bug."

A smile as sheepish as one eleven-year-old Blaise would have formed itself on his full lips as they pecked her on the forehead.

Pansy tucked her head into his neck momentarily. She made a low sound, lips clicking as she kissed his neck, then pushed herself up onto her elbow, reaching out a hand to prod at his bicep.

Zabini smirked, flexing his arm just so that his bicep bulged. Pansy shared his expression, squeezing at his arm like a child with a polished new toy.

"I love your muscles." The words coming out tired and giggly, laying her head on his chest while still keeping a hold on his arm.

"Mm, I love your eyes." He said softly, reaching for her chin to see those eyes. Green and sparkling. He kissed her cheek, delighting in the fond hum she gave him in response.

This was the best part of having her as his girlfriend, he was sure, being able to hug and kiss and caress her whenever he wished.

"You make me sound shallow." Pansy joked, an indolent grin playing at her lips. "I don't just love your muscles. You've a nice face…" She giggled — she always made herself laugh — and pressed her cheek against his.

"Plus, you're sweet." Soft hands held his face, and even softer lips pecked his. "And mine. My sweet boy."

That made him smile, hugging her tightly and leaning his head against hers. Pansy relaxed, ducking her head into the crook of his neck once again, trailing her fingers along his collarbone.

The way she held herself was calm now, no longer needing to uphold the confident, assertive Pansy everyone knew her as. In his arms she was safe to be whatever she wanted; and tonight she wanted to be comforted.

"Will you tell your mum?" She whispered against his skin, begging — by her standards — for reassurance.

He nuzzled his nose into her hair, breathing deeply as he slowly rubbed her bare back. "I'm gonna write her in the morning. She'll be ecstatic."

"Okay." Pansy whispered, tucking her legs up.

Blaise murmured an incantation under his breath, effortlessly plunging the room into darkness. He had an inkling that tonight he would know rest like he never had before, feeling the safety of his dear girlfriend's presence while also knowing she was protected in his arms.

"I love you, Blaise." Pansy whispered into the darkness of the crook of her neck, intertwining her legs with his.

"I love you too, darling. So fucking much."

Peaceful sleep they did have. Pansy dreamed of meadows, and for once, Blaise had a night without the plague of remembrance, and dreamed of absolutely nothing.

The morning was just as tranquil. There were no fraught memories from the night previous, no hint that these close moments were ephemeral.

Pansy woke first, her alarm clock saying eight. They really must've went to sleep early.

Her eyes fluttered open yet were met with darkness still, the first thing she was aware of being the tight hold Blaise had on her. On the pillow his head lay opposite hers, barely an inch away. One strong arm held her waist while the other hand was threaded into her hair, bicep bulging like another pillow.

A whispered "Lumos." left Pansy's lips, lighting the room dimly just so she could look at his peaceful sleeping face.

As she looked at him, brought a hand to his cheek and caressed it so tenderly, she wondered what she would've done, had he not put it all out on the table last night.

Would she have said it then? Would she — a famously loud and expressive girl — have chosen to die for fear of the unknown? The answer is yes, she thinks, sad as it is.

Pansy thankfully didn't have worrisome what ifs anymore, only the confirmation of the title 'girlfriend'.

A soft noise from Blaise pulled her from her thoughts. Oblivious in sleep, he nuzzled closer, his breath warming her collarbone.

Pansy kissed his head, scratching gently at his nape.

They stayed like that for a while, small sounds of contentment coming from him as he held her tightly. Then he finally began to stir.

Whether he had slept enough, or his girlfriend's scent roused him, Blaise woke. The first thing he was aware of was the warmth of the bed and the girl he was holding. Their legs were intertwined, their bodies one as they lay together.

Zabini made yet another sound of fondness, softly kissing Pansy's neck and breathing the scent of her skin and residual perfume in, unaware that she was awake— he hadn't yet wondered why there was light at all… The atmosphere was so comfortable, he basked in it as he held the back of her head, kissing her jaw and making his way to her cheek.

When he finally did pull away, he met her waiting gaze.

"Morning, handsome."

A tired smile curled Blaise's lips, leaning in to peck her cheek. "Have you been up long, darling?" Voice deep and rough with rest.

"A bit." She murmured, reaching out to hold his cheek, stroking the stubble that sprouted overnight. "You make sounds in your sleep, y'know."

A quiet huff left him, eyes shutting as she stroked his jaw. "Did they wake you?"

Pansy shook her head. "No. They were cute."

Blaise breathed out in amusement, tightening his arm around her. "Sleep well?"

"Mm." She replied, leaning in to kiss him— careless to her likely horrendous breath. He accepted gladly, cupping her face and rolling on top of her.

They stayed in bed for a little while longer, just holding one another and basking in their newfound openness. Eventually they rose, showering together because they just couldn't bear to be apart.

Pansy dressed comfortably, wearing some jeans and his jumper from last night. Blaise just threw on yesterday's trousers, thankful that he had left a hoodie in her dorm to put on.

They strolled up the girls' stairs and down the boys', entering Zabini's dorm. Pansy flopped on his bed.

An hour later the other boys returned from wherever they had run off to, only to find their friends in a disgustingly intimate embrace in bed, Blaise's head on Pansy's chest as he played with her hair. They were undeterred by this and all bar Malfoy piled onto the bed too, much to Blaise's disgruntlement.

"Mate.." He scoffed as Enzo laid an arm over him, attempting to shift away, only to end up in contact with Mattheo as a result. Pansy chuckled to herself, scratching at his nap lazily. A line of annoyance appeared between his brows, cocking his head up to meet her eyes. "Seriously, Babe?"

With one word, he had blown their cover.

""Babe"?" Draco shouted out from the bathroom, retreating back into the dorm with furrowed brows, staring at the two of them like he was owed money.

"What about it?" Zabini retorted dryly. Malfoy would've argued back, but it was feckless. Parkinson had already joined her lips to her boyfriend's, making the blonde exclaim in disgust.

Mattheo started laughing, putting hands on his friends and practically rocking the bed as he swatted at Blaise's chest in amusement, forcing the latter to pull back just to shoot him a glare. Theo had a cigarette lit up between his fingers, and prematurely blew out a puff of smoke to smile to himself, giving a lazy glance to Pansy as if to say "about time".

The gladdest of them all was Lorenzo, who shot up when he saw them kiss, and practically flattened his cousin. "I won! I fucking won!"

A scoff left Draco, who whacked a handful of galleons in his direction, face a wretched twist as he struggled not to both vomit and throw a hex. "Suck my cock.." Muttered under his breath as he shoved Berkshire.

Pansy looked up at the scene, still smirking with indolence. "You've been betting on us?"

Enzo nodded happily, waving the coins in Draco's face childishly.

After everything calmed down they all went for lunch together.

It was a glad one, with even Malfoy — in his pissy mood — congratulating them. Despite his foul temperament after losing, they were still his best friends. Mattheo was most excited about Theodore now being the only virgin and swiftly teased him for it. Nott only rolled his eyes and raised his glass for the new couple who sat across from him, Blaise with his hand firm on the thigh of the girl he loved.

Pansy's girlfriends reacted with expected excitement, Daphne in particular. She parroted "I told you so" for a good two hours, though it didn't annoy Pansy. She was too happy.

 Theo couldn't deny that he was over the moon for the pair of them.

He had always loved Pansy — platonically — and wanted the best for her. He understood her to her core and knew that there was more in her to be discovered, things that some quick hookup could never find. Blaise did that for her; not to mention grounded her.

It was currently Friday evening — six days since what was now being called "the great admittance" by Enzo —, and fuck if it wasn't pelting down insistent snow, blanketing as far as the eye could see. Nott and Parkinson were sat in one of the slytherin spectator towers, watching the boys' training with half interest. They were huddled close to keep warm, shivering despite the warming charms circling them. They couldn't tolerate the cold, they craved the blazing Italian sun.

"I'm really happy for you, Pans." Theodore said with a lazy smile, watching as his friend tucked her cold-stiffened knees up to her chest. She returned his pleased expression, shoving her hands into her thankfully fleece-lined pockets.

"It was only a matter of time, anyway. Blaise couldn't ever look at you without turning all doe-eyed."

Pansy's grin softened, looking up into the sky where her boyfriend skillfully zipped around. "I'm no different when it comes to him."

Nott chuckled, rubbing his hands together and breathing hot air onto them.

"I think Enzo was the happiest out of all of us. He practically suffocated me in a hug." She laughed, recalling the moment and the expression on his face. The boy truly was over the moon.

Theo hummed, snow falling onto his feet as he looked at her knowingly.

It was obvious to anyone how in love she was, but to one of her best friends who knew her inside out, it was even painful to watch.

A nice painful, though. Torture to the singletons like Nott who secretly longed for what his mates had.

Once done training, Blaise found Pansy in the common room all curled up with a cup of tea in her hand. He didn't want to disturb her, only missed her presence. The freshly conditioned leather of the couch squeaked when he sat down next to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her shoulder.

"Hello, beautiful."

Pansy grew a lazy smile, her mug cracking against the side table like the logs did in the fire as she set it down. It didn't take an invitation for her to shift fully onto his lap, cup his cheek, and give him a slow, passionate kiss.

"You looked hot playing." She murmured against his lips before pulling back, holding his jaw still.

Blaise smirked, hands slowly moving along her waist. "Mm, turn you on?"

This almost week passed had been filled with not only loving embraces, but carnal exchanges. Zabini's sexuality seemed like it couldn't be caged now that he had conquered his fears. Making love, — not fucking — worshipping, learning, and exploring was proving to be a new favourite hobby of his. His girlfriend had not slacked on taking advantage of that.

Though now she was just teasing, pecking his lips and smiling fondly. "Mhm." Laying her other hand over his shoulder, allowing her eyelids to droop for the first time this week.

As wonderful as they had been, the past six days had been filled with academic and parental stress so triggering it couldn't be recalled without hyperventilation. Blaise had been there through all of it, only reminding Pansy why he truly was the perfect boyfriend.

In just six days he had shown her more affection than she had received in her entire lifetime. It healed younger her, the bruised child who just wanted a hug.

"Tired, my darling?" The words were tender and almost whispered, spoken as he leaned in to kiss her temple softly before cupping the back of her head to tuck it into his neck, holding her tightly so her chest was flush with his.

The girl hummed in confirmation, breathing in his scent. It was something sandalwood today, and it made her even more sleepy.

"You want to take a nap? Watch a film?"

"Yeah…"

Five minutes later Pansy was tucked into his bed, his large hoodie draped over her frame, and her form clutched in his arms as some tape ebbed and flowed on the makeshift sheet screen.

Neither of them truly cared, Blaise only put it on to help her sleep. He was shirtless, running his fingers along his girlfriend's scalp as her head lay on his muscular chest and she drifted off to the land of dreams. The sight of her at peace made him smile.

In the past week he had found his own peace as well. No longer did he have to yearn and want in torturous silence, now he could kiss and hold the object of his desire whenever he liked.

Pansy evened him out, her loud confidence contrasting his quiet surety. She talked when he didn't want to, laughed when she shouldn't, and had no problem skipping about the halls with Enzo.

Most importantly, she was a shoulder to cry on, one that could be trusted. She was his solace.

"Sweet dreams, love." He whispered into the darkness as he shut the film off and closed his own eyes, burying his face in her divine hair.

In this world there are few things that are perfect, some would even argue that there are none.

Those doubters have clearly never loved anyone as passionately as Blaise Zabini and Pansy Parkinson loved each other. Any rational being knows that a connection as pure as theirs is perfection.

The ability to share every nitty gritty detail without shame or worry of judgment, the feeling of complete and utter safety in another's arms, the notion that each and every day they would wake in an unconditionally and unequivocally loving embrace; that is perfection.

They were perfection.

Blaise Zabini m. list ⚡︎

hi lol.. it's been a while. i'm sorry i'm being slammed with study and hate everything right now.

anyway i hope you enjoyed this!! random ship but i think they fit really well. this also ended up being rlly long oops. pls ignore any typos/wrong word variations and all the general bs. i am usually the grammar police but girl i have proofread this thing so many times and i am not doing it again!

lmk what you thought!

requests are open and chats are welcome mls <3

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