Author's Note: I haven't ever written or intended to write a songfic before, but I was listening to some old songs, and when I heard this one, I felt like I just had to write a story for it. To be honest, I usually don't like reading songfics so much either, so I will definitely not be offended if you decide that you don't like this. So, here is my first (and probably only) attempt at a songfic!
The story is set at Hogwarts, and it has absolutely nothing to do with the war. As much as I love it, I figured it'd be nice to take a break from the war stuff in Turncoat.
Oh, and if you haven't heard this song before, it's called "Addicted" by Kelly Clarkson, and it's one of my favorites by her. But then again, almost every song by her is one of my favorites xD
Disclaimer: I do not own anything except the plot. The song belongs to the beautiful Kelly Clarkson, and the characters and world belong to JK Rowling.
Read and review! (:
Addicted
It's like you're a drug.
It's like you're a demon I can't face down.
It's like I'm stuck.
It's like I'm running from you all the time.
He walks down the hallway at a leisurely pace. I'm surprised that he doesn't have any of his followers surrounding him. His strides are long, comfortable, and his lips are quirked upwards in a self-satisfied smirk. I wonder what's happened this time, to put an expression like that on his face.
And what a beautiful face it is. His chin is pointed, smooth, and his jaw is angled, masculine. His lips are pale but full, and I know from experience that their texture is velvety soft. His nose is the perfect size—not too large, not too small. His eyes are the color of clouds just before a thunderstorm—dark, ominous, yet so alluring. Framing his face, his platinum blonde hair is wild, windswept, painstakingly styled to look perfectly messy… if that makes any sense.
In one word, beautiful.
Those mysterious grey eyes flicker with amusement as he passes by me, and I realize, mortified, that he just caught me staring, again.
"Merlin, can't he show off his strut anywhere else in the castle?" Ron grumbles from his place at my side, turning to glare at Malfoy's back.
When I don't reply, Ron looks at me quizzically.
I shrug. "He can strut wherever he wants to. It doesn't bother me as long as he doesn't speak to me," I say.
He always seems to be passing by me these days, as though he's intentionally rubbing it in that I can't keep my eyes off him whenever he's around.
Bloody bastard.
And I know I let you have all the power.
It's like the only company I seek is misery all around.
It's like you're a leech,
Sucking the life from me.
I break our kiss, gasping for air, and his lips blaze a trail down the side of my neck. His hands slide down my bare back to caress my bottom, and I gasp softly as he lifts me up slightly and pulls me up against him.
"M—Malfoy, we have to stop," I manage to say.
Then his mouth closes around my left nipple, and his tongue swirls around the rapidly hardening nub. I moan in response, tangling my fingers in those silky, blonde strands.
I used to be such a good girl. I don't know how or when this started, but it really, really has to stop.
"Malfoy, no," I breathe, tugging his head away from me.
His eyes bore into mine, filled with impatience, lust, dissatisfaction.
I shake my head at him. "I don't want to do this anymore," I say.
"Oh, really?" he replies in a voice just above a whisper.
Then, before I can reply, he's in motion.
He turns me around rapidly and slams me into the wall, and I gasp as the cold stone comes into contact with the warm skin of my chest and belly. Then he enters me from behind, and his name slips from between my lips in a loud moan. A few thrusts, and I already feel like I'm standing on the precipice, about to fly off the edge.
But then he pulls out, and I growl in disappointment.
It's like I can't breathe,
Without you inside of me.
And I know I let you have all the power,
And I realize I'm never gonna quit you over time.
The heat of his chest recedes quickly, and I hear footsteps as he starts walking away to get dressed. His departure makes me feel empty, like he's just ripped out a part of me. I can't take it.
"Malfoy, wait!"
Oh no, I didn't want to say that. I couldn't have meant to say that, could I?
He turns around, a smug look on his face.
No, no, no. I shouldn't have said that. But my mind is quickly fogging up, and my body is rebelling against me.
I walk toward him, ignoring the part of me that wants to cover myself up and run away. My hand reaches out and brushes against his arm, travels up past his shoulder and rests on his cheek. My eyes never leave his face, lingering on each detail, each part that makes up this masterpiece.
My traitorous mouth begins to speak.
"Please, don't go."
He smirks. "Give me some incentive to stay, then."
It's like I can't breathe,
It's like I can't see anything,
Nothing but you,
I'm addicted to you.
I jerk his head down toward me and press my lips to his, poking my tongue out to taste his mouth. He keeps his lips pressed together, and I push him backwards until he's up against the door. Instead of turning us around to pin me, he places his arms around my waist and lets me have at him. He doesn't usually let me take the lead, and the feeling of power that's coursing through me is a heady aphrodisiac.
I give up on his mouth and let my mouth glide down his neck, nipping and kissing my way down to his chest. My hands wander over his body, loving the feeling of his muscles rippling beneath his smooth, smooth skin. I tug him forward a step, away from the wall, and hitch one of my legs around his waist, grinding my soaked core against his thick, pulsing erection.
Then I lean forward, pulling his head down so that my lips are right by his ear.
"Enough incentive for you?" I whisper seductively.
He groans, and his arms come to life, lifting me up just slightly before impaling me on his cock. I moan loudly and wrap my other leg around his waist, pulling him in deeper. He spins us around, and my back collides with the wall. Before I've even had time to register the pain, he's pulling out and plunging in, pounding into me mercilessly.
I bite my lip, trying to keep quiet, and he smirks before capturing my lips and angling his hips so that his next thrust hits that perfect spot. His mouth swallows my scream of pleasure, and I cling to his shoulders for dear life.
It's like I can't think,
Without you interrupting me.
In my thoughts,
In my dreams,
You've taken over me.
It's like I'm not me.
It's like I'm not me.
"Hermione? Are you even listening to me?"
I blink a few times and look to the side to see Ron frowning at me. I glance back in the direction I'd been looking in a moment before and see that there's the tiniest hint of a smile on his face, almost imperceptible.
God, I hate him.
"I'm sorry, Ron," I say. "What did you say?"
He groans. "Forget about it. Just give me your Potions notes—I'll look it up."
"Why can't you just use the book?"
"Because your notes are more organized."
"More organized than the textbook? Don't be ridiculous."
He smiles. "I'm not being ridiculous. You're bloody brilliant, and you know it."
Then his smile fades a bit, and I frown.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"Malfoy's walking this way."
I roll my eyes. "Honestly Ron, why do you even care what Malfoy does?"
He walks past the table without so much as a glance in my direction, and my eyes follow him for a short while. But then he's out of the room, and my heart sinks.
"I don't like the way he looks at you," Ron says, putting his arm around me and pulling me closer to him on the bench.
I laugh. "I'm a filthy little Mudblood, remember? He wouldn't look at me differently for any reason other than that."
"Don't call yourself that, Hermione."
I shrug. My mind's already reeling back to the last time he'd called me that. It was almost two weeks ago. He doesn't talk to me much in front of other people anymore. We don't argue like we used to. It's as if he's indifferent to my existence now. I wonder if anyone else has noticed the change.
"Hermione?"
Why can't I focus on anything anymore? "Yes?" I say.
"Your Potions notes—I asked for them."
"Oh, right," I say, reaching into my bag to find my notes. "Sorry—I'm just distracted."
"Yeah, you've been distracted a lot, lately. What are you thinking about all the time?"
"Nothing," I say evasively.
He takes my notes from me, frowning, but my head is already elsewhere.
When will we meet again?
It's like I'm lost,
It's like I'm giving up slowly,
It's like you're a ghost that's haunting me.
Leave me alone.
I walk down the hall quietly, on the lookout for anyone who might be out of bed after hours. It's extremely quiet, as is normal for the castle in the middle of the night.
A pair of hands grabs my arms and shoves me against the wall of the corridor as lips press against mine urgently. I reach up to fist my hands in his soft, soft hair—
No, only imagined that. Malfoy's in trouble—he won't be patrolling for another few weeks, and if he gets caught another time after hours while he's off-duty, they might just take away his rank as Prefect. And I doubt he'd risk that. He loves docking points whenever he feels like it.
Oh, but I wish he would come.
I hear footsteps behind me, and I spin around rapidly.
"Lumos," I whisper.
The tip of my wand lights up, but no one's there.
Good god, am I going mad?
And I know these voices in my head,
Are mine alone,
And I know I'll never change my ways,
If I don't give you up now.
You want him so badly, Hermione. So badly that it hurts. Why won't you just go to him?
My mind, the only part of me that he hasn't controlled before, is turning against me. No. I pull the covers over my head, as though it'll help me keep out my own thoughts. I've always had control over my mind, at least. I won't let him rule my body and my brain.
But you want him to. You want him to get inside your head and free you from all these stupid restraints you've placed on yourself. Don't you want pleasure? Don't you want to feel him deep inside you, filling that empty space that you can't ever seem to fill on your own?
No. Please, no. I don't want to lose my head.
You're fighting a losing battle there, Hermione dear.
I have to stop seeing him. That's the solution. If I stop seeing him, then I'll slowly stop thinking about him. I will stop paying attention to him.
Yes, but there's just one little kink in your plan.
What is it?
You don't want to stop seeing him.
I can do it. I can stop. I'm strong. I'm Hermione Granger—people always say I'm stubborn and strong-willed, so why can't I just convince myself that I don't want him anymore? I do not want Draco Malfoy in my room right now. I do not want him to bury that delicious cock into my aching pussy. I am not dripping wet for him right now.
Damn it, this is a losing battle.
I plunge two fingers into myself and imagine that it's him. Hopefully it'll be enough to get me through the night.
Oh, this is bad. Really, really bad.
It's like I can't breathe,
It's like I can't see anything,
Nothing but you,
I'm addicted to you.
He shoves into me, and I'm surprised by how unfulfilling the sensation is.
Is he really already all the way inside? I pretend to moan with pleasure, but there's nothing pleasurable about this. I look up into baby-blue eyes and wish that I could feel even an ounce of passion for my boyfriend.
He starts moving in and out, but the feelings just aren't the same. There aren't moans to suppress; rather, I have to exaggerate my reaction to his movements.
I thought that finally sleeping with Ron would be the solution. My near-obsession with Draco Malfoy was simply a manifestation of my sexual frustration, which existed because I wasn't sleeping with my boyfriend. Or so I'd thought.
His thrusts are getting more erratic, and I sense that he's near his end. I stare into his eyes and watch, disgusted with myself, as my mind automatically starts seeing grey. But as his face slowly transforms in my mind to Malfoy's, the experience begins to feel much better.
Fuck, I'm not supposed to be fantasizing about Malfoy when I'm with Ron.
Ron comes with a few final thrusts, and I pretend to climax as well.
"I love you," he murmurs languidly.
"I love you too."
I try with all my might to make myself believe it, but in my heart I know it's a lie.
It's like I can't think,
Without you interrupting me.
In my thoughts,
In my dreams,
You've taken over me.
"Ohhh, yes. Yes, yes, yes! Oh Merlin, Draco, you're a god. Don't stop!"
My mouth is flinging out words, without much input from my brain—in fact, I think my brain's having a field day. If I were in my right mind, I wouldn't be here, clawing at his back, begging him to keep fucking me into the mattress.
He stifles my cries with a long, passionate kiss, never stopping the rhythm of his hips as he pistons in and out of me. I run my hands back up his back and grip his shoulders as he increases the pace.
My body arches up against him, craving as much contact between us as is physically possible. I want to be one with him. I want to be a part of him. I want him to be a part of me, so he can never leave me.
"Fuck," he grits out. "I can't hold on much longer."
He reaches down between us and rubs the pad of his thumb in circles over my hypersensitive nub, and my breath catches in my throat as ripples of heat flood my body.
"Come for me, Hermione," he says in a low, husky voice.
It's the command and the authoritative look in his dark grey eyes that does it for me, and with another two thrusts, I'm shouting his name at the top of my lungs. He bursts inside me but continues to pound into me through his release, helping me to ride out my orgasm.
Moments later, he braces himself up on his elbows, hovering above me, and smiles. Really smiles.
"I love you, Hermione," he says in a soft, soft voice before lowering himself to kiss my lips.
I sit up with a jolt, a hand over my lips. Oh god, that was only a dream. Oh god. I just dreamed that he was in love with me. Is that really what I want from him?
It's like I'm not me.
It's like I'm not me.
Tears of despair fill my eyes.
He would never love me. He only has sex with me because I'm supposedly a pretty good fuck. But I was so, so happy in that dream, in that moment when he said those words to me.
I love you, Hermione.
That is what I want from him. I don't want a relationship based only on sex. I want him to care about me. I want a real relationship with him. Oh, this is awful.
I'm going to have to give him up. He'd never be caught in a relationship with a Muggle-born. And our future… we'd have no future together. Between his parents, my friends, my parents, his friends… there's no way that we could ever work out.
I'll have to give him up.
The thought hurts me much more than it should.
I'm hooked on you.
I need a fix,
I can't take it,
Just one more hit,
I promise, I can deal with it.
"Looking for someone?"
I turn around and see him standing beneath a torch, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. I swallow hard and move toward him.
"I thought you said you'd never come back, Granger," he says, smirking.
"After this, I won't."
"After what, exactly?"
I shove him back into the wall and attack his lips with mine, but he has much better control over his impulses than I'd hoped, and he pushes me away from him easily.
"So eager, Granger."
"Shut up, Malfoy."
He starts walking toward me, and my body seems to be on autopilot yet again. I instinctively back away, intimidated by the fierce look in his silver, steely eyes.
Then my back hits the wall opposite the one that I'd pushed him up against, and his hands come up to rest on the stones on either side of my head, caging me in. He leans in to whisper in my ear.
"Do you really think you're in control here, Granger?"
I take a deep breath. "I'm just here for one more time. And then this will be over," I say.
He dips his head, and his lips and tongue caress the base of my neck. I let out a soft sigh, leaning my head back against the wall. His mouth glides up my neck and back to my ear.
"You think you can give this up?" he murmurs before licking the shell of my ear.
Shivers run down my spine. His knee presses between my legs, opening them, and he steps closer. I'm paralyzed, too drunk on the delightful sensations that his mouth is creating as he goes to work on my ear. He really is ridiculously talented.
"I asked you a question," he breathes.
He did? When? I must not have heard it.
I slide my arms around his waist and slip them underneath his shirt. I love the feeling of his smooth skin beneath my fingertips.
He lifts his head to look at me, and my mind clears a little bit as I recover from the delicious feelings that have already started to fade away.
"What's wrong, Granger? Can't think straight?"
I glare at him and tug his head down to claim his lips. I don't care what he asked me. I don't care that it's wrong. I just want him—one last time. One last time. I have to keep telling myself that this is the last time. I'll make sure this is the best and last time. No more, after this. I won't come back for more.
He doesn't hold back this time; instead, he invades my mouth and devours me. Then his arms sweep me off my feet, and I quickly grab onto his shoulders, afraid of falling. He chuckles as he carries me away, and the sound makes me feel so alive.
Less than thirty seconds later, I'm dropped on his bed, and I look around, surprised that the other boys aren't here. Then I remember that they should all be finishing their dinner right now.
He crawls onto the bed and pulls the curtains closed around it before coming to me and leaning into a kiss.
I'll handle it, quit it,
Just one more time,
Then that's it,
Just a little bit more,
To get me through this.
I shouldn't go to him. This is a terrible, terrible idea. Why am I doing this?
I'm walking down the corridor toward the dungeons, looking for him—I saw him leave dinner early, and I couldn't stop myself from following a few minutes later.
The last time we were together, his Dark Mark glared up at me from his forearm as I climaxed, and I couldn't seem to stop looking at it. I took it as a sign that it really was time to stop, and I told him so. He said it didn't matter to him. Said that I'd be back, no matter what I said.
And now, sure enough, I'm looking for him again.
I just want him one more time. One last time, one time that I'll remember forever. And that'll be enough for me. I'll finally have had enough of him.
God, I sound like a drug addict.
I'm strong enough to do this. I know I am.
"Looking for someone?" a voice, so very familiar to me, says from behind me.
I'm hooked on you.
I need a fix,
I can't take it,
Just one more hit,
I promise, I can deal with it.
I roll us over and press him down onto the mattress, straddling his hips. I kiss my way down his body, paying homage to this godly figure for the last time. I want my lips to touch every inch of this perfection, want to taste every bit of him.
His hands reach for me, but I grab them and pin them to the bed, outstretched on either side of him. I know that he's strong enough to overpower me, so it's clear that he's letting me take control of his pleasure, for once. Maybe he's finally realized that this really will be the last time.
My tongue dips into his belly button, and he tenses slightly. I smile up at him as I gently nip the skin just below the small hole.
I reach the waistband of his briefs and release his hands to remove them. Surprisingly, he obediently keeps his hands where I left them. I toss his underwear to the side and feast my eyes on his proudly erect member. God really outdid himself when he created Draco Malfoy.
Keeping eye contact with him, I slowly lean down and take the tip of his cock into my mouth. He twitches slightly, and I swirl my tongue around the head, sampling the pre-seminal fluid leaking from the slit. His eyes tighten as I take more of him into my mouth, alternating between sucking him and massaging him with my tongue.
He lets his head fall back against the pillow and mutters a string of curses. If my mouth weren't so occupied, I would have smiled. I start bobbing my head up and down, sucking lightly every time I come up. I wrap a hand around the length of him that I can't take into my mouth and squeeze it in time with the bobbing of my head.
I lift my eyes to look up at him and see that his hands are gripping the sheets, and his chest is rising and falling rapidly.
"That's fucking amazing, Granger," he breathes.
Too soon, his hands grip my shoulders, intending to pull me back up to him, but I continue to suck, trying to get him off—I want to taste him. He hasn't let me suck him off before, and if this is the last time, I want to have a taste.
But then his strong hands tighten on my shoulders, and I'm tugged off him. He pulls me up so that I'm level with him and rolls us over, taking back his control.
I glare at him, annoyed, but his lips crash into mine before I can protest, and I melt into his kiss. His hard length pierces me, and I moan into his mouth. His thrusts are deep and slow, and I quickly feel desperate for more. I thrash beneath him, arch my back and press against him, trying to convey my urgency without voicing it—his mouth is still keeping mine captive.
His thrusts keep the same slow pace, with meticulous control, and it's driving me mad. I break our kiss.
"Malfoy, fuck me!" I pant.
He smirks. How the hell is he so calm at a time like this?
"I am," he says evenly.
God, do I affect him at all? Is that his dick driving into me over and over, or not? I hold his gaze, and the next time he tries to pull out, I clench around him, drawing a surprised grunt from him. Aha. But still he maintains that same infuriating pace. I attempt to thrust my hips upward against his, but his hands keep my arse pinned firmly to the mattress.
"Faster—please, Malfoy."
That smirk is still on his face. Why is he torturing me like this?
"I'm begging you, Malfoy. Fuck me like you mean it!"
He sheathes himself inside me and stills, taking a moment to laugh at me. My cheeks flush. What the fuck did I just say?
"Well, since you put it that way…" he mutters.
He starts moving again, at a much more satisfying pace this time, and his hands release my hips, allowing me to buck against him. He covers my mouth with his, and I revel in that wonderful taste. Then he changes the angle of his thrusts so that he rubs against my clit with each powerful stroke. I can't hold back the loud moans that burst out of my mouth as waves of pleasure crash over me.
He picks up the pace and breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against mine. Our lips are inches apart, and I can feel his hot breaths against my mouth. I open my eyes to see that his eyes are shut tight, from concentration or exertion, I don't know.
My cries of pleasure get progressively louder as he takes me closer and closer to that final climax, and I dig my nails into his arse to get him to move faster yet.
Then, when the sensations rushing through me are getting to be almost unbearable, I shoot off into the abyss, stars flying behind my eyes. I feel his hot seed filling me up as he reaches his release, giving a few last strong thrusts before burying himself inside me for the last time and collapsing over me.
I love the feeling of his full weight pressing me down into the mattress, the feeling that we're as close together as we can possibly be. When he's recovered, he lifts himself onto his elbows, and the loss of that closeness makes me feel cold.
"Who's in there with you, Draco?"
My eyes widen. How could I not have heard someone coming into the room?
"Now now, Blaise, since when was that any of your business?" Malfoy replies from above me. His eyes are fixed on mine, and he looks completely unbothered by his friend's presence.
"Just wondering who your newest victim is," Zabini says from the other side of the curtain.
"Get outta here," Malfoy says, his eyes still on me.
"Going, going."
We listen as Zabini leaves the room and shuts the door behind him.
"How am I gonna get out?" I whisper.
He grins. "Who said you were going anywhere, tonight?"
"I'm not staying here overnight," I say. "That was the last time, Malfoy. I already—"
"Technically, we're not quite finished," he says, jiggling his hips slightly against mine to point out that he's still inside me.
"Look—Malfoy, if we're really going to keep this up, I want more than just…"
"Fucking?" he supplies.
"Yes. I don't want us to be two people who just have sex. If you still want me to keep coming, I want you to commit to us. We can't go public—obviously—but I want you to stop sleeping with other girls."
I'll handle it, quit it,
Just one more time,
Then that's it,
Just a little bit more,
To get me through this.
"Granger, I don't give a fuck about what you want. I don't care what you think. Why do you think I should care, anyway? You've never mattered to me in the past. Why do you think I'd change now?"
"Maybe because we've been fucking like rabbits for a few months."
He smirks. "You've got a dirty mouth on you, Granger. I like that."
"Look, I'm just saying that we can't do this anymore. I don't want to keep this up. I'm finished."
"Nothing's finished until I say it is. You got that, Granger?"
I glare at him. "No. You aren't winning again this time. I'm through with this."
He grins and pulls out of me. "All right, then. Leave. You can borrow my cloak if you want to hide your face," he says, rolling off me.
I sit up and get off the bed. I pick up my clothing, and he lets me get dressed in silence. Then he pushes the curtains aside and, sitting on the edge of his bed, summons a cloak from somewhere else in his bedroom. I pull the cloak around my shoulders and tug the hood down low to hide my face.
"You know you want it," he says. "You want me to fuck you until you don't know which way is up. You can't live without that feeling, and you're not going to find it anywhere else. I guarantee it."
I turn and walk towards the door, but my feet seem to get heavier and heavier with each step.
"Have you seen the light at last? Is that it?" he taunts. "Going to go back to being faithful to your dear Ron? Pray tell, how did you explain away the fact that you weren't a virgin?"
"That is none of your business," I say, turning around.
My eyes rest on his face, and I immediately see that his eyes are dark, clouded with lust. No, no, no. I shouldn't have taken the bait. I should go now. Right now. Why aren't my feet moving? I'm his captive again.
He gets to his feet, and I see that he's put his briefs back on. He takes slow steps toward me, like a tiger stalking its prey. My eyes remain fixed on his, and my feet stay rooted to the spot. My mutinous body is thrumming with excitement, anticipating his touch, the feel of his skin against mine once again.
It's like I can't breathe,
It's like I can't see anything,
Nothing but you,
I'm addicted to you.
"I'm still giving you a choice, you know," he says.
I want to speak, but my voice fails me. My lips twitch, but no sound comes out.
"You can go. In fact, I think it'd probably be best for you if you left. I could always find somebody else, someone who'll be more… appreciative of what I do to her body."
I shudder with the memory of the tremors that he sends through my body. In fact, my body remembers the sensations so well that when his hand brushes against my arm, there's an immediate jolt of pleasure through my loins as my body anticipates what will come after his initial touch.
His hand leaves my arm, and he circles around to stand behind me.
I inhale deeply, trying to focus my mind. But all I want is to feel his touch again. It's all I can think about.
"What'll it be?" he whispers hotly into my ear.
I fist my hands at my sides and close my eyes as he glides back around to stand in front of me again. I don't want to see him. If I see him, I don't think I'll be able to resist. But my head is already supplying my mind's eye with images of him, memories of us and how it feels to have him between my legs.
I'm hopeless.
It's like I can't think,
Without you interrupting me.
In my thoughts,
In my dreams,
You've taken over me.
"Well, you said you wanted one last time and that you'd leave," he says. "So why aren't you leaving?"
Because my feet won't move.
Because images of you won't stop filling my vision.
Because you're standing so close that your intoxicating smell still fills my nose.
Because my heart can't stand the fact that if I leave this room, my pride won't ever let me come back.
I tilt my head up to look at his face, and the hood falls off. He's looking at me expectantly. Does he honestly expect an answer to that question?
I swallow hard as I realize the painful truth.
"I-I can't."
He puts on a look of mock innocence. "Do tell, why can't you leave?"
I glare at him.
I hate this man so, so much. He's the bane of my existence. He invades my thoughts in my waking hours, infiltrates my dreams when I sleep. I can't make it through an hour without him crossing my mind.
But I can't give him up.
"I don't know," I lie through gritted teeth.
"I do," he says, smirking.
I hold still as he takes another step toward me, lowering his head to kiss me. I try my best not to respond, but desire for him spreads like wildfire through my body, and I lean toward him, deepening the kiss. Then he pulls back, and I'm disappointed.
"It's because you belong to me," he says in a low voice.
Instead of responding, I tug him closer to kiss him again.
Fine, just one more time.
Oh, who am I kidding?
I might as well belong to him. A few words from him, and all of my resolve fades away, dissipating like dust in the wind. So much for my strong will.
It's like I'm not me.
It's like I'm not me.
Author's Note: This turned out to be a bit more difficult than I'd anticipated, but I can't say I didn't have fun writing it! I had a hard time capturing the emotion of the song… How do you think I did? Help me out and write me one of those little reviews! You'll make my day :)