As We Fall (Blaise Zabini Fanfiction)

Chapter 20

Zoe

I drag the tines of my fork across my plate with a lazy hand. It produces a delicate screeching noise that shivers up my fingers and wrist. The discomfort is comforting - I need something to distract me right now.

To think I had begun to trust you (had I really?).

I should've listened to Eric when he said, "don't go there".

The day that I never have to see your face again will be the best day of my whole life.

Things I want to say to Blaise, but can't. Not can't, but certainly won't. Some are a little more soap opera-esque than others, and maybe a little more so than necessary, but I don't care, because I don't actually plan on saying them. Why? Because I don't really want to talk to Blaise ever again.

When Flint first told me about the bet they'd made, I'd acted as if I couldn't care less. I figured that was my smartest approach until I decided how I truly felt, and how I should act. Later, I tried slapping him and calling him a dick. Sure, it worked for a few minutes - like a small taste of revenge that momentarily satisfied my appetite for it - but my anger returned the following morning and was as present and strong as a hangover.

And forth came my solution, which is this: I just won't talk to Blaise, ever. Or, I will at least avoid talking to him as much as possible. Sure, we will have run-ins where conversation is required, like in class or at quidditch practice. But they will be strictly related to those subjects, and we will discuss nothing but potions, charms, and play-calls.

All I need for this plan to work is for him to leave me alone in return. Because if he continues to try to talk to me, I know I won't be able to stop thinking about the night that he took me in his arms and kissed me. That's what I'm most afraid of.

"Listen, honey bunny." Eric says from beside me, drawing me out of my thought string. "I've seen that look before and I don't like it. What is wrong with you?"

Eric's concern is always voiced in a way that comes off just slightly aggressive, maybe even a little accusatory.

"Nothing." I lie, and then change my mind when I see the look on his face. "Well, yes - something. But don't worry about it, I'll be fine."

"Secrets don't make friends, Zoelle."

I bite my lip, listening to the evening buzz of the great hall around us as I think.

I know Eric will keep pressing until I tell him, and I'm not one to hide things from my friends. So, I make the decision - I will tell him everything that happened. The kiss with Blaise, the confrontation with Flint, me finding out about the bet they'd made. Besides, maybe hearing the words in my own voice will help me understand how I feel about it all a little more.

When I finish my story, Eric looks both disgusted and disheartened.

"Oh, my sweet little sugar bear." He coos, transforming into the mother I never had. "I sometimes forget that you're just an innocent and naive little creature who hasn't yet been exposed to the hideous, cruel world of boys. Like I have - damn that Hank - but that's besides the point. Blaise Zabini and Marcus Flint are nasty trolls who cannot, under any circumstances, be awarded even an ounce of your precious trust. They're poison, sweetheart. Didn't I warn you of this months ago?"

I try to smile appreciatively, but it feels more like a grimace. Eric will always be Eric, and his comfort will always be a double-edged sword. But either way, his concern means more to me than he could ever know.

I am about to say thanks when the paralyzing feeling takes over me. A fire like no other - searing, burning toxicity. All the blood in my veins rushing towards my lips. My body screams.

Then, nothing.