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nightseer @ : Fic: FallingTitle: Falling
Disclaimer: I own nothing in this.
Summary: Hermione does something just for herself.
Characters/Pairings: Hermione/Quistis
Author’s Notes: This is the first femslash I have ever written and I'm more than a little nervous about how it came out, but the pairing wouldn't leave me alone.
Hermione didn’t understand.
Quistis smiled, a Slytherin smile if Hermione had to put a name to it, and took her glasses off.
Hermione liked for things and people to fit into nice, neat boxes. She liked to understand. How they worked. Why they did what they did. What would happen if you put object A with object B in conditions C. All those questions and answers she had helped her explain the world around her, helped her feel comfortable in the world, helped explain her place in the world.
But now…
Quistis stepped closer, one hand taking out the pins holding up her hair, the other grabbing Hermione’s wrist, gently stroking her skin.
This world made no sense. Magic didn’t work according to the laws and theories Hermione had studied so diligently; Harry was holed up in the library, acting more like her than the young man she knew; Ron was off learning how to use a gunblade and fighting in the Training Center…Her boys and her magic no longer fit into the boxes Hermione’s mind had made for them.
They were learning, growing, changing.
And they were leaving her behind.
Hermione leaned in towards Quistis, and the older girl smiled again, this time a gentle guiding smile. Hermione reached up and helped take the pins from the simple blonde twist on the back of Quistis’s neck. She used one hand to drop the pins on the bedside table, but left her other clinging to Quistis’ shoulder.
Hermione wanted free of her box. She didn’t want to be left behind in the dark while her boys explored this new world. She didn’t want to be trapped as little Miss Know-It-All here too. Hermione wanted to find those missing pieces of herself she hadn’t been able to before, the ones she had labeled not important because of school and Voldemort and her friends and fate.
Hermione wanted out.
When Quistis moved to nuzzle that little place between Hermione’s neck and ear, that little place that made Hermione melt, Hermione turned her head. Their lips met in a kiss, and Hermione let herself feel it. Participate in it. Need it.
Her boys hadn’t completely left their boxes yet. Harry was poking his head out as he learned, but he still had brooding fits and sullen moods—he just had company for those now. And Ron, simple, wonderful Ron, his training all fell back on that one foot he still had in his box, his need to prove himself and his Gryffindor streak of chivalry. They were doing things by halves, taking small steps, little leaps and jumps. Not Hermione.
Hermione was going to rip her box open and stand on the shreds.
She laughed as Quistis pushed her back towards the bed and let herself fall.
Quistis smiled, a Slytherin smile if Hermione had to put a name to it, and took her glasses off.
Hermione liked for things and people to fit into nice, neat boxes. She liked to understand. How they worked. Why they did what they did. What would happen if you put object A with object B in conditions C. All those questions and answers she had helped her explain the world around her, helped her feel comfortable in the world, helped explain her place in the world.
But now…
Quistis stepped closer, one hand taking out the pins holding up her hair, the other grabbing Hermione’s wrist, gently stroking her skin.
This world made no sense. Magic didn’t work according to the laws and theories Hermione had studied so diligently; Harry was holed up in the library, acting more like her than the young man she knew; Ron was off learning how to use a gunblade and fighting in the Training Center…Her boys and her magic no longer fit into the boxes Hermione’s mind had made for them.
They were learning, growing, changing.
And they were leaving her behind.
Hermione leaned in towards Quistis, and the older girl smiled again, this time a gentle guiding smile. Hermione reached up and helped take the pins from the simple blonde twist on the back of Quistis’s neck. She used one hand to drop the pins on the bedside table, but left her other clinging to Quistis’ shoulder.
Hermione wanted free of her box. She didn’t want to be left behind in the dark while her boys explored this new world. She didn’t want to be trapped as little Miss Know-It-All here too. Hermione wanted to find those missing pieces of herself she hadn’t been able to before, the ones she had labeled not important because of school and Voldemort and her friends and fate.
Hermione wanted out.
When Quistis moved to nuzzle that little place between Hermione’s neck and ear, that little place that made Hermione melt, Hermione turned her head. Their lips met in a kiss, and Hermione let herself feel it. Participate in it. Need it.
Her boys hadn’t completely left their boxes yet. Harry was poking his head out as he learned, but he still had brooding fits and sullen moods—he just had company for those now. And Ron, simple, wonderful Ron, his training all fell back on that one foot he still had in his box, his need to prove himself and his Gryffindor streak of chivalry. They were doing things by halves, taking small steps, little leaps and jumps. Not Hermione.
Hermione was going to rip her box open and stand on the shreds.
She laughed as Quistis pushed her back towards the bed and let herself fall.