a/n: for Blue – because she's my Jensen Ackles!twinny, and i love her sososo much, which is why i've attempted DominiqueRoxanne for her. venturing into the areas known as slash and femmeslash. i'm pretty new at this, so don't judge, alright? ;)

disclaimer: j.k. rowling ©

Trifling

Roxanne announces she's lesbian the Christmas of her Sixth Year. Forks drop and brown-blue-green eyes turn to stare at her, and the tension increases about two hundred thousand notches; it's almost palpable.

Dominique looks over at her with smoky, fogged-blue eyes, wishing she were brave enough to say something as well.

Instead she sits in shameful silence and watches as Christmas dinner erupts into chaos.

Roxanne is nineteen now and traveling the world, kissing foreign girls and sending pictures and postcards once in awhile – just as a 'screw you' to the ones that disapprove – just Victoire and Fleur, really, who'd forced pretty boys on their cousin-slash-niece, gave her magazines full of men wearing nothing but a pair of briefs, done everything they could to 'make her better'.

Dominique secretly envies Roxanne and her boldness. Dom is seventeen, one year older than Roxanne when she'd broadcasted to her family that she was – well, gay – but she can't bring herself to do it.

Her younger brother is homosexual as well, she knows. And he had no trouble getting it out last year, when he was in Fifth Year and even younger than Roxanne was.

Every time she tries the words stick in her throat and she can't force them out as hard as she tries, because then bile rises in her throat and she was the sudden urge to vomit.

They wonder about her, her mum and sister. Ask questions like, "Why don't you have a boyfriend, cherí?" and "Nikka, isn't it time you find someone?" She makes up excuses: "Quidditch takes up too much of my time." "I haven't found the right person yet." "All the boys at Hogwarts are immature pricks."

She begins to run out of excuses; however, and takes it upon herself to write Roxanne.

Rox – I need your help with something. Come back as soon as you can. –Dom.

The older girl Apparates there like any good cousin would, looking brown and smiling and hair sun-kissed and completely, irrevocably Roxanne.

The seventeen-year-old tries not to notice the way her shorts end above mid-thigh and smooth chocolate skin seems to go on forever, or the way her voice sounds like satin against skin, or the sinfully low-cut shirt.

She clears her throat. "Rox, hi."

"Dom!" Roxanne flies toward her and wraps her in a tight embrace – they become tangled limbs sprawled on the floor.

Roxanne gets up first and helps the younger girl up, the latter of which looking considerably more uncomfortable.

"So what is it that you needed help with?" says Roxanne brightly as she stretches out on Dominique's bed, shirt riding up, revealing a strip of silken dark flesh. The younger girl bites her lip and closes her eyes and tries to ignore the magnetic attraction she's feeling for her cousin.

She opens her eyes and Roxanne looks up at her from the bed with intoxicating tawny eyes, and Dominique swears loudly under her breath, thinks 'screw it all', and bends forward to kiss the girl.

Her lips are soft and unassuming and Dominique lets loose a velvety moan against them, weaves her hands through corkscrew curls – and then she realises Roxanne isn't responding and pulls back.

"Dominique…" Roxanne pauses, clasps her hands together and groans, squeezing her eyes shut, "Oh, Dom…we're cousins."

"I know – I know," Dominique slides down to the ground, leaning against a dresser. "But – it could work! We could – we could try, right?"

"No. We really couldn't," Roxanne sighs. "It's sick, and wrong–"

"What do you care?" the younger girl interrupts, knowing she's fighting a lost cause. "You didn't care about being lesbian."

Roxanne looks appalled. "This is incest, Dom. This isn't some trifling thing like your sexuality, okay? It's different – it's illegal."

Dominique barks out a harsh laugh. "Fine. Leave."

"What?"

"Get out."

"Dom – no, I didn't want to hurt you–"

"You know what? That's what everyone says," Dominique points her wand at the dresser beside Roxanne; there is a flash of light, a bang, and it's blown to pieces. "Leave."

Roxanne, looking pained, stares at this girl with the ink-stained heart and hard expression – and leaves.

Dominique scribbles a note. Goodbye, it reads, and under that, she signs her name.

a/n: my mom is angry with me for not playing piano, so this was written in a rush. somehow, this drabble turned into an awful one-shot.
hope you liked it, blue! O_O
please don't favourite without reviewing.
[although i don't know why you'd favourite in the first place.]