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    A/N: For my beloved Rachel, who conceived this beautiful brainchild of a ship. I hope it pleases you, darling! ILY!

    * * *

    It may be her lips on your skin, kissing away the streaks of sweat you missed after your quick wipe-down after Quidditch practice, but all you can think of is the salty-sweet taste of his flesh as you kissed your way up his neck, idly skating over the delicate curve of his jaw until you reached his earlobe, which you took between your teeth and bit down upon viciously.

    When her teeth scrape the side of your neck, giving what you assume is supposed to be an affectionate nip but really feels like the first stab of brutal betrayal, you give an involuntary jerk. She thinks you find it pleasurable and presses herself more firmly against you, but it’s not. The truth is that your thoughts have transported you back to the classroom, where you were supposed to be helping him with his homework, teaching him how to do a proper Shield Charm, but ended up tossing him back on a desk, pressing the line of your body against his in earnest, unable to get enough of him.

    The feel of him, the taste of him. It clouds your head and reminds you that this isn’t right, what you’re doing with her. Her body is supple and yielding, but that’s not what you want. Not now. Not anymore. You want the firmness of his form, surprising for one so tall and slender, radiating an indescribable heat that leaks into your chest and cracks open the confines of your heart, exposing you in the way that only he can.

    He’s the only person who can do it, not the girl straddling your lap and treating you like a king with her kisses, gentle and caressing and entirely genuine as they are. She doesn’t deserve this, you think, but then again, neither do you. You don’t deserve her or him, but you can’t have both without the other.

    You want to give him all you can. Give and give and give until your heart can’t give anymore, but all you do is take. You take from her just as much as you take from him. You’re draining them, but you make no move to stop it.

    Her hands - dainty with freshly lacquered nails - drift away from your shoulders where she placed them for purchase, and follow the faint path of salvia left by her kisses. It raises the fine hairs on the back of your neck and your arms. Not because you like the sensation - in fact, you dread it as it reminds you too much of him, though his fingers are calloused, his palms rough, but gentle as they kneaded your skull tenderly.

    The one person you’re not supposed to be thinking about is the only one you can. You know it’s wrong to let him possess you, arrest you so, especially in her presence, but you can’t stop. And somehow, you don’t think you will. Because it comes naturally to you. It feels right.

    It feels much better than this does, kissing the girl you once thought you could love if you gave her the proper chance. But now that you’ve tasted the lips of another, have felt the warmth of his flesh as he pressed his palms against you, drinking in every inch of you without even using his eyes, you know that she’ll never have a chance. Never had a chance, if you’re being entirely honest.

    But still, you allow her to take your face between her hands and turn it towards her. Her brown eyes are kind and gentle and framed with impossibly long, incredibly thick lashes - just like his - and her hair falls around her shoulders. She presses a chastise kiss against your lips and sighs, leaning her forehead into the crook of your neck.

    “I love you,” she whispers just loud enough so only you can hear her.

    You hum in response and she sighs again, pulling back to look you in the eye.

    “Do you love me too?”

    Her voice is full of such honesty, such earnestness, that you can’t help reaching up to fondly cup her face. The planes of her face are similar to his, merely softened by her femininity, and if you closed your eyes and ignored the berry scent rolling off her, you could convince yourself that it’s him. But you know it’s not and you don’t like tricking yourself because you’re already fooling one too many people as it is.

    Expelling a sigh of your own, you nod and speak the words of poison. “I do.”

    Though you don’t say the words, she accepts your response and bends down to kiss you again. Her eyes flutter shut, but yours stay open, focussed on the figure standing over her shoulder. He’s only just entered the common room, but you can tell by the look in his eyes, the acceptance on his face that he has heard the entire exchange.

    Wordlessly, he drifts over to the staircase and walks up.

    You want to follow him, but you don’t. You don’t because you know it’s not right, what you’re doing. What you’ve done. But you’ve made your choice and though your heart aches, though it yearns for him - for the brother, you’ve promised yourself to the sister.

    You have always found roses to be beautiful and you’ve always thought that Rose is justly named, but you don’t want justice. You don’t want her, you don’t deserve her. But like all the things you don’t deserve, you take it anyway, because it’s the only thing you know how to do.

    A/N: Yeah, I have no idea where this came from, but I hope you all enjoyed it. Please review, for feedback is always appreciated!

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