Chapter 1 : Just A Drop of Love...That's All I Want.
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The warmth of his breath lingered on my neck. His soft lips touched my throat. I sighed and his hand touched my long dark hair and brushed it away from my face. I moved so I was closer to him. I ran my slender fingers through his messy, short, dark red hair. He sighed and continued kissing my face. His lips met mine. I felt his arms wind themselves around my waist and he kissed my lips once more before softly whispering in my ear, “I love you.”
I smiled as those three little words came from his mouth. No one had ever said those words to me before. My own family hated me but it wasn’t my fault. I shook the dark thoughts of my family from my mind and kissed his cheek. I curled up close to him, wrapping my arms around his chest. He leaned back on the couch with his arms around me….
I sighed as I stood in the kitchen. My hands reached for the cupboard to my left. My fingers touched the delicate, green, glass bottle. I set is on the counter and reached for the potion ingredients to my right. My fingers added the ingredients quickly. He would be home for dinner soon. The sweet and lovely memories of those passion filled nights lying next to him filled my mind. It was all so wonderful to be married to the man I deeply loved. He was everything I could have ever wanted and he was finally mine.
He would tell me he loved me every night we were together and every morning, he’d whisper those soft words of love in my ear. I sighed gazing at the bottle. All I needed was a drop of water. But what I really needed was a drop of love. Was Tom really in love with me regardless of the potion I snuck into his evening glass of wine? Was it the potion giving him the words of love or was it his heart? Why was I having doubts now? I was happy and so was he. I grabbed the wine and poured a glass.
My eyes glanced at the green bottle of potion sitting on the counter before me. I loved Tom. There was not a single doubt in my mind that I loved him more than anything in the world. If he really loved me the same way, he wouldn’t need the potion. I grabbed the bottle and stuffed it in the cupboard in case I’d need it. I grabbed the glass of wine and set it on the table before sitting on the couch in the living room. I heard him enter the house whistling a soft tune. He walked over to me and kissed my cheek lightly. I smiled and he drank his glass of wine. Then we ate dinner. He talked about how work was going and all. I merely nodded pretending to listen to his words. My mind was so far away. My mind was focusing on whether or not the potion would be needed. I loved Tom. I knew I did. When he kissed me, I noticed the briefness. I bit my lip trying to blink back the tears. He was never like this. He was changing back to the way he’d been before I’d given him that potion. My heart felt so shattered at the thought of him leaving me. There was a fear swelling up inside of me that he would never truly love me. Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe he was just having a tiring day. That’s what’s up. It has to be that.
I tried to repeat those words inside my mind and make myself believe that Tom really did love me. He did. He wouldn’t have stayed here if he didn’t. He wouldn’t have married me if he didn’t love me. Tears streamed down my face. Why was I crying? Tom had to love me. He just had to.
That night, I curled up in bed close to him. Unlike other nights, he merely responded by kissing my forehead and closing his eyes to sleep. He didn’t whisper those words of love in my ear. There was no passion. I bit my lip as I lay there in the darkness of our room. My greatest fear had become a reality. Tom wasn’t truly in love with me. My eyes glanced over at him. He was sound asleep. I sighed as I touched his cheek and played with his hair. He wouldn’t wake. He wasn’t a light sleeper. I whispered softly, “I love you.”
He didn’t seem to hear. It was as though he didn’t care anymore. I felt like a ghost to him. I bit my lip trying my hardest not to cry. I loved him. I wanted him to be with me forever. But he didn’t love me. There was not a single drop of love left to our relationship.
The next morning, I woke to find him awake and getting up. I sat up and asked curiously as he got dressed, “Where are you going?”
He usually slept in on Saturday mornings. Usually, he’d wrap his arms around me and bury his face in my hair until I woke up. That wasn’t happening today. Tom looked at me with a confused expression, “I’m going home. Where else would I go?”
“But don’t you want to stay? Don’t you love me Tom?” I pleaded hoping he was joking. I didn’t want him to leave so soon.
Tom looked at me and gave me a very puzzled look. “Love you? What are you talking about? I don’t have anything here keeping me from leaving.”
“What about me?” I asked frantically.
“What about you?” he shrugged and walked to the front door.
I got out of bed in my nightgown and ran after him. Tears streamed down my face as he walked out of the house and out of my life. I loved him but he didn’t love me back. I let out a scream of anger. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the potion bottle. I threw it at the wall. The glass shattered into pieces and remained on the floor but I didn’t care. My heart was just as broken as that bottle. I cried as I threw on some clothes and I didn’t bother to brush my tangled dark hair. I felt a strange feeling in my stomach. I groaned and asked even though no one was there, “Why did I let him go? Why?”
But I knew the answer to my own question. I let him go because I loved him so much. Hastily putting on my golden locket, I ran out of the house and down the road. I didn’t know where I was going but anywhere was better than where he would be. I wanted him to be with me but that was no longer a possibility.
He would go back to his family and act as though nothing had happened. He wouldn’t remember me. He wouldn’t remember whispering those sweet three little words in my ear every day. He wouldn’t ever remember marrying me. I was nothing to him. As I walked down the street, I clutched my stomach. I felt so sick. I didn’t care. I continued ignoring the pain and walked down the dirty London streets. I had no idea where I was. But I knew my heart had been left in pieces, next to that broken bottle.
~*~*~*~*Seven and a half months later*~*~*~*~*~
The snowy air around me was cold. Delicate snowflakes fell from the white clouds above me in the dark night sky. My teeth chattered from the cold. My arms were wrapped around my large stomach. I was no longer able to cry. All my tears had been used seven and a half months ago. As I’d expected, Tom had gone back to his family and friends. He no longer remembered me. Something accidently pushed me into the sidewalk on the dark lamp lit streets in London. I winced in pain and let the person who’d pushed me simply walk away. I no longer cared. I was past the point of caring. I didn’t even want to live after everything that had happened to me. My family was gone. My husband Tom was gone. Everyone I ever knew was gone. I was alone.
I shivered and my hand clutched my gold locket. Perhaps it would bring some money for food or shelter. I stumbled and exhaustedly reached the nearest shop. My dirty and cut fingers laid the locket on the glass counter. The old man behind the counter nodded. He examined the locket and handed me some money. It wasn’t much. I was past the point of caring to even live.
I mumbled a weak thank you to him and left the shop. Walking back out into the snowy December night air, I collapsed on the steps of a tall brick building. There was no point in going anywhere. I curled up on the ice and snow covered steps and stayed there shivering. My cold lips touched my freezing hands.
If anyone I’d known were to see me now, they wouldn’t recognize me. I was lifeless. My dark hair was dirty and tangled. My clothes were torn in places and streaked with dirt. My eyes no longer sparked with interest. As far as anyone was concerned, I was a ghost. I was lost in a nightmare that I couldn’t escape. The one thing missing was the drop of love I’d always wanted. That single drop of love had melted away long ago when he’d left….The potion was gone. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn’t make it. I didn’t remember how. Like the potion, the love was gone. Like the bottle, my heart was broken in pieces that no one could glue together. But mostly, like the ingredients put into the potion, that single drop of water needed, was also the drop of love needed to fix me. So where was that drop?
a/n: okay I decided to give it my best shot at Merope Gaunt. I have always been interested in her character and I finally had an idea on what to write for her! anyways, I hope you liked it despite the over all sadness. I tried to find ways to lighten it up but this is how I imagine her story. I can just see her curled up on those orphanage steps, shivering and having those deep thoughts in her head. I am open to critque etc. Thanks for reading!!!
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