#userpuddifoots

“theo, you're doing that thing of talking to that neck of yours.” her tone was as light as it could be, almost humorous, as she wasn't trying to pressure theo, at all. she knew if she did that, theo was going to wrap around himself, and pull himself further away, when pansy wanted to push him close to her. “i can't help if you don't speak to me.”

theo fumbled for some time. he clenched his fingers around his knees and mumbled a little and pansy really felt sorry about how hectic his mind had to be for being always this anxious, and insecure and afraid. she knew that bloody father of his was to blame, but that was a battle for another day.

“we... we don't do that, we don't do love.” theo finally said, sounding so anguish, like he was making an effort to make the words pass through the knot in his throat. and pansy knew that the we he was referring to, wasn't blaise and him. 'we' were all of them. the slytherin. the pure blood ones. the sacred twenty seven, even.

and pansy found herself unable to say anything soothing, or healing to him, because theo was right, they don't do love. none of them were raised to do that. they were raised to believe there was no such thing as it, only royalty, only strategies, only bonds, only benefits.

they were raised to believe it was much safer to be feared than loved.

and it surely felt safer, less scary, more functional, and easier.

with a long sigh, pansy inched closer to where theo was sitting, one perfectly manicured hand hovering over shivering theo's ones, squeezing them lovingly. she couldn't lie to him, she wasn't that kind of person, and both of them lived too much in contact of reality for pansy to make that to him.

“the more i try to stop it, the stronger it becomes.” theo whispered again, and this time, he sounded close to tears, completely defeated. and pansy's grip on his hands only tightened, still at a loss of words of what she could say to him that could give him some solace.

she couldn't promise him a fairytale ending that wasn't going to be true, not without also displaying the consequences of it. sure, they could run away, but they would become outcasts, forsaken by their families. by the whole society. they would become the target of rumours, and whispers and talks. with no money or name to rely on.

“i didn't want this to happen.” theo finally chocked on a sob, losing his battle, and pansy thought her heart was ripping into pieces with each sound. she knew theo was well aware that any fantasy that didn't include a settled marriage with another pure blood family was just that, a fantasy.

blaise was never going to be a part of his future, or even his present.

she also knew that none of this was what they wanted to happen. blaise was more frivolous, flirty, knowing he would have to follow the path he had to eventually, but in the meanwhile he got to be eccentric, and playful and sultry and seductive. theo was more reserved, closeted, focusing in his books and his study, keeping himself as low as he could to do that he wanted to do at the best of his possibilities, but not raising attention, not more than the one he sadly got.

she knew neither of them expected to find each other along the way. to find understanding in a sea of rules and customs and pre-fabricated lives. to find love.

and it was absolutely heartbreaking because from all people, theo deserved a happy ending. he was the one who deserved it the most. the one who was somehow less like the rest of them, but still, caught in the web of traditions, and strategies and alliances and bonds. with no space for love, no space for anything else than some flirty stares through the library and a few brushes of gloved fingers walking through hogsmeade.

how bloody unfair. what pansy could possibly say to him? anything would sound fake. and fake was what pansy despised the most. she was wrapped around it, her whole life, so plastic and pristine, even if the insides were rotten. she couldn't go on with the façade, especially not for theo.

any 'sorry' would feel soulless, and any 'it will get better' would be a lie. and bloody hell, pansy held so much love inside of her towards him, for doing anything like that. the fucking irony of it.

she could just promise a shoulder to cry on, be somehow a pile of strength to make it through, because the situation wasn't going to change, nothing was going to make it better. there was no spell or no potion that could make blaise and theo happen with no consequence, no batting of an eyelash.