Post by Elienp on Nov 3, 2011 4:27:38 GMT -8
Title: Next time, he'd catch it.
Rating: T
Warning: none
Words: 242
Summary: Draco wasn't ready to give it up yet.
The pain in his arm was sharp. Sweat was covering his forehead, soaking him, and he knew it wasn't only due to the physical effort.
Pain was overwhelming him. He wouldn't let it gain the upper hand, yet it was becoming harder and harder with each passing second.
His left arm hurt, burnt, it felt like his skin was on fire.
He should land, but to land would mean the Slytherin team would lose its captain. No way! Draco wouldn't allow such a thing to happen. His pride, and the one of his fellow comrades, were at stake. Besides, his parents were present. His mother would understand – encourage him even to quit – his father never would.
Draco had to fly, to play and, above all, to win this match. No matter how bad it hurt, he didn't have the choice.
He suddenly caught sight of the snitch, away on his left, away but still closer to him than to the Ravenclaw Seeker. It was for him.
He swiftly modified his flight, he'd catch it. He'd... have caught it, without this pain. This damned pain, making him faint during a match, when he was about to win it, how daring it was!
If he wasn't feeling so bad he would... Wait, there was nothing he could do but to hope that the next time he'd last long enough to catch the snitch.
He wasn't ready to give up on Quidditch yet.
Rating: T
Warning: none
Words: 242
Summary: Draco wasn't ready to give it up yet.
The pain in his arm was sharp. Sweat was covering his forehead, soaking him, and he knew it wasn't only due to the physical effort.
Pain was overwhelming him. He wouldn't let it gain the upper hand, yet it was becoming harder and harder with each passing second.
His left arm hurt, burnt, it felt like his skin was on fire.
He should land, but to land would mean the Slytherin team would lose its captain. No way! Draco wouldn't allow such a thing to happen. His pride, and the one of his fellow comrades, were at stake. Besides, his parents were present. His mother would understand – encourage him even to quit – his father never would.
Draco had to fly, to play and, above all, to win this match. No matter how bad it hurt, he didn't have the choice.
He suddenly caught sight of the snitch, away on his left, away but still closer to him than to the Ravenclaw Seeker. It was for him.
He swiftly modified his flight, he'd catch it. He'd... have caught it, without this pain. This damned pain, making him faint during a match, when he was about to win it, how daring it was!
If he wasn't feeling so bad he would... Wait, there was nothing he could do but to hope that the next time he'd last long enough to catch the snitch.
He wasn't ready to give up on Quidditch yet.
