Pairing: Pansy/Ginny.

Rating: R.

Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. Characters owned by J.K. Rowling.

Summary: Pansy compares fantasy to (sur)reality.

Such a pretty, pretty Gryffindor. Curls like cinnamon and eyes like chocolate, with skin the shade of vanilla, speckled with nutmeg, and lips sweeter than all of these. Or so I would imagine.

And I imagine it often.

I imagine sliding into her bed, surrounded by her hot cocoa scent and soft cotton.

I imagine running my hands over young, girlish curves; tiny waist and the jut of a small hip and breasts that are hardly a handful, even for my own small, slender hands.

I imagine what it would feel like to have her under me; soft belly, soft breasts, soft thighs; bony hips, bony shoulders, bony arms.

I imagine kissing her, tasting the sweetness on her tongue and lips.

I imagine sliding a hand up her skinny thigh, into the wet warmth between her legs.

I imagine feeling her breathing against me, against my neck, as her heart shudders violently against her ribs and my hand moves so slowly, too sweetly for my liking, though I could hardly change that, because she's so beautiful with her face dappled in moonlight and sheened in sweat like this.

I've imagined it so many times that I'm surprised when I finally catch her, when she writhes in her denial and her skin nearly burns my fingertips; I'm surprised because her mouth tastes like spice and not sugar.