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Waiting on a Whim by marinahill
Chapter 4 : Sixteen.
 
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 11


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The steam billows across the platform and through the smoke she can see Teddy as he boards the train. His last voyage on the Hogwarts Express has long since passed. Steam around the carriages swallows him up and Molly quickly bids goodbye to her parents, eager to follow him. She will not see her family again for months, but time apart from him will last longer than she cares to imagine. She follows him, never letting him out of her sight. She wants to say farewell to man who haunts her dreams, her waking thoughts and who ghosts in and out of her future. He will visit her, his presence felt but never impacting upon her life. She knows this is how her story goes, but she cannot help but be drawn towards him. It is this power which pulls her onwards, which helps her put one foot in front of the other. Her head tells her to turn around and stop following a dream that cannot come true, her heart will follow him until the end.

He stops and she stops with him, hopeless rooted to the spot as he enters a compartment to her right. Inside waits her oldest cousin, and her lips move. Perhaps they exchange words, but the blood rushing to her head prevents Molly from hearing. Like a statue she freezes, unable to ignore the scene unfolding before her eyes. He holds her cousin as she herself wishes to held by him, he kisses her with such a gentleness that she wishes he were more rough. Then she can pretend he feels nothing but lust, though she cannot deny the emotion on his face. It is the face of the man from her daydreams, the one who caresses her and loves her. The closest she can get to this face is the one which appears for Victoire; it will have to do for her, for she takes what she can get. It will never be enough but she prefers something over nothing. Her imagination fills in the gaps. The gaps her less heartbreaking than the farce that hides them. She feels the heat at the nape of her neck and her eyes sting, but no matter how devastated she feels she does not shed a tear. Instead she cries on the inside, a small tear falling from the hole in her heart as she tries to look away. She does not cry because she knows there is no hope to destroy, no dreams to shatter. Her and Teddy are never meant to happen.

As he leaves, he does not notice her. She feels nothing as she pretends to ignore his retreating back. She doubts he wants to hurt her, but she feels invisible next to her cousin and she knows his head is full of her at that moment. Molly is the spectator in a crowd of lonely girls who give their hearts away too easily. No matter how hard she tries to forget him, the shadow of hope clings to her, cold and dark. Her head has moved on, but her heart is well and truly sold. She cannot call it love because she has never experienced this feeling before, but the hope remains that the feeling will become something more.

She is prepared to wait for him. Perhaps she believes patience will win his heart, that she can triumph in the passing of time. She will wait and endure the slow suppression of unrequited love.


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