A Throne of Blood and Stars

Chapter Twenty-One

He's actually going to do it, Blaise thinks. Do I want him to? Will it complicate everything?

By Salazar, he smells so good, though.

No, he can't. He won't.

"I don't want..."

The way Ron tilts his head to thoroughly examine his expression as he's talking makes Blaise's mouth go dry. His tongue stops working and he feels his jaw just pause, leaving his mouth open halfway through his sentence.

He looks like an idiot, he knows. But Ron keeps rubbing his thumb on his skin and it's addicting.

Ron is addicting. With his worn sweaters and pink scars. And that damned shade of blue his eyes have, like it's dancing between a clear sky and the Caribbean sea. And the scent of used leather and earth.

"What don't you want?"

"Y-You," Blaise stutters, closing his eyes and moving away. What is happening to me, what is this?

"You don't want me?" He sounds amused, and thankfully moves away where Blaise can breathe and not inhale so much Ron.

"No, no," he breathes. "I don't want...to seem," Blaise clenches his eyes shut and thinks, and thinks, and thinks, but he can't get the right word to cross his mind. He growls in frustration.

"You don't want to seem...?"

"Lost," Blaise looks up, his dark brown eyes meeting the undecided blue ones in front of him. "I will lose myself."

"You're better than that, you won't do that to yourself."

"I'll act differently."

"In public, maybe."

"Stop that!" Blaise splutters. "Stop...stop doing...that."

"What," Ron laughs, reaching for him again. "What am I doing?"

"You're finishing my sentences. Don't justify the fact that I'm trying to stop...whatever this is from happening."

"Oh," Ron feigns understanding, pulls Blaise flush against him. "And what is this?"

The Slytherin blushes darkly, pushes Ron's chest.

"No answer? Hm, a bit uncharacteristic of you."

"Before," Blaise inhales and takes a step back, away from Ron. "Before anything happens, and you won't stop so I know something will happen, I need to know that you will never think less of me. No matter what. I'm...I'm exhausted, Ron. I don't want to get my hopes up and watch them burn because I was too easy."

"Easy," Ron laughs. "Easy? By Godric, Blaise, you have been anything but easy. You are by far the most difficult person to figure out. I never know what you're thinking, or if what I'm saying is the right thing to say. It's irritating and fascinating at the same time."

Blaise swallows when Ron brushes a thumb over his cheekbone.

"I think it's why I can't stay away," he chuckles, dropping his hand and shaking his head. "Not even a month and you have me wrapped around your finger. And you didn't even know it."

"Ron..."

"I'm not going to do anything. I'm going to let you make the first move, because then I know it's you who figures everything by yourself. You have the reigns on this one," Ron murmurs, flexing his hand by his side.

"You...what?"

"Every time I come to you, you push me away. So now you're going to come to me. Take your time, don't think too hard."