Stare At Me (DracoxRon)
Darting quickly and he hoped quietly, Ronald Bilius Weasley, attempted to sneak into Potions class. One foot after another he scoot that much closer his normal seat in the farthest corner of the classroom. Just as the seat was scrapping soundlessly against the floorboards, Ron gets caught.
“Mr. Weasley, so nice of you to join us,” came Professor’s oh so familiar sarcasm. Picking up a false grin of sheepishness, the redhead scratched the back of his ginger head. Standing up straight (for he had been crouching), Ron looked forward. He hoped his face wasn’t completely crimson and that most Slytherin and Gryffindor were so used to this that they wouldn’t look back. Only a few dared to look back and most were known to Ronald. Familiar sets of green eyes and brown eyes were easy to feel but a piercing set of silver-gray eyes could be felt burning into Ron’s left cheekbone.
‘Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look, don’t look,’ he chanted loudly into his head, as was his daily routine nowadays. Unfortunately, like every day this unfortunate event happened, he looked.
Only to be caught staring straight at what he had been hoping to avoid.
Those piercing silver eyes shine back with an intensity Ron couldn’t quite comprehend. They were stone hard and flat as slate. Inside though, was where Ron wanted to stray from. Getting trapped within was a deep fear of his. Not being able to resurface from the cold and collected eyes that watch him. Every Potions hour he would be constantly evaluated by those pleasurable orbs. Ron could feel them calculating and searching for answers and weaknesses, looking at his body as if it were a prize. They touched him in places that eyes shouldn’t behold. They raped him in ways that were all too new.
The scary part of it was, that he enjoyed it.
He liked the sensation of being watched like prey, like he was hungered for. Ron preferred it above all else in the world. Especially from these icy eyes.
“Mr. Weasley are you listening or not?” the snap bubbled through his internal feud about a pair of eyes.
“Hm?”
Professor Snape sighed deeply before pointing the seat in the front row. “Sit down, Mr. Weasley.” Swiftly, the professor turned on his heel and strutted to the front of the classroom to begin teaching. Trudging his legs towards the front, Ron felt as his feet got heavier and heavier. There had been a reason he had always sat in the back. As much as he enjoyed being watched, it was awkward for others to notice the pleasure he secretly got from it. So, Ron had concluded it would be deemed safe to sit in the very back row, where he could not be watched.
But now, now he was to sit right in front of the very person who caused these emotions and hormones to run wild. A secret he had been hoping to keep for the longest time would be emitted to the entire class within only one hour. It would sparkle and shine through every movement he made and every glance he would peek.
This secret, you may ask?
That he, Ronald Weasley, was awkwardly, regrettably, and hopelessly in love with Draco Malfoy.
