(...you never understood)
Your hair is splayed out across the pillows, and I hold my wand at the ready.
Your body lifts slowly – up and down, up and down.
You are peaceful.
I can almost hear the beating of your heart; it makes me cringe.
A sigh escapes your lips, and for a second, I stop breathing – I cease to exist.
It began on the day you walked into the bar.
Your face was expressionless. Your eyes were empty.
But you moved with such grace and authority that everyone stopped to stare as you sat down at a table. It wasn’t until the barmaid came to take your order that everyone looked away.
We all heard your voice.
“Two butterbeers, please.”
You had walked in alone.
I don’t exactly remember what happened, but soon enough, I sat across from you. You looked up at me and yet your expression did not change. It was the way you looked at me that I remember the most.
You weren’t alive.
You weren’t dead either.
From that night on, your scent had been imprinted to my bed sheets. I don’t remember how it started, or even why. I'd fall asleep, some nights, to the faint fragrance of your skin. I didn't understand what was happening, why you were here, imprinted into my mind...I don't remember why it all began.
I had stopped wondering about you.
You were always gone before I awoke. You’d always leave something out of place or take something, as if you had expected me to believe that it had all never happened.
I think we both wanted to know that it was all real.
I never really realized what was going on until now.
And the thought nearly broke me. But I didn’t understand. I would never understand. I didn’t love you. I needed you – but I could live without you.
You, however, didn’t need me, want me, or love me.
And that was the whole point, for you weren’t supposed to.
You lay there, sleeping soundly. Your skin is bare; your skin is sin. Your lips are pursed and your hand rest on the pillow beside you. Your eyes flutter for a second, and I tense. But you are calm, and you are asleep, and I once again let my eyes wander your beauty.
My wand is in my hand. I hear the curse, over and over, playing through my ears.
You move faster than I could have expected.
Your wand is in your hand and you face me. Your hair tumbles over your shoulder, and your bare skin makes me shiver. Your eyes, for once, show emotion – they are burning. For a second, there is silence. Your harsh breathing is all that I can hear over my thundering heartbeat.
“Has it always been for this?”
“Was there ever a chance?”
“Your father killed mine.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“There is always a chance.”
“Are you willing to take it? For me?”
Your wand falls from your hands.
But mine does not.
I never loved you.
You never understood.
This was sort of random. But it had sort of been on my mind for a while...The pairing is sort of odd. I don't know who portrays who. It changes every time I read it (; I know it might have seemed a bit off and choppy because of all the cut offs, but I think it sort of organized it? IDK. Tell me what you think? Leave a review? Thank you for taking the time to read this ^_^