Contemplation
By Ani aka Cherished Dreams
Disclaimer: I do not own any Harry Potter characters.
He reflects over her when she's not there, 'which is a lot lately' he realizes. He also laments over them, reminisces when they were so much happier with each other, being in each other's company, their beginning.
'When did they agree to love?' he ponders as he paces around their lonesome home. His hand absently brushes the mantle empty of any pictures or awards yet full of dust. Awards are for showing off in their real homes. Pictures of them little their walls, though he knows this place to be a shoebox – a place which holds memories tucked away from the world. He knows full well she doesn't have their photo stashed away in a little nook at her home, not in any newspapers where both their pictures always seem to end up, and sadly not even in her wallet.
'Lately', he muses as he dumps himself on their bed, 'those pictures seem to be the only times they're together.'
They seem to live totally different and separate lives now. Little morning kisses don't seem to be exchanged, though he thinks grimly 'she's never there half the time.' She seldom sleeps in their home anymore, let alone by his side. But he hung on, hoping to catch her attention again, hating confrontation and arguments, knowing full well her back was all that he could see. He was a coward, he knew.
They used to leave each other plenty of notes. She'd introduced him to Post-it-Notes, the muggle invention. He'd loved the concept. He had stashed all her 'don't forget to feed the newspaper owl' (their place was quite far from its normal route) and 'I love you' notes.
He rises, checking his watch. He's sure his heart is begging him to stay – that she'll come.
She had accepted his quickly scrawled one asking her to come tonight. But he's waited five long minutes past the agreed time and his mind tells him she's not coming, because she's never late. She's always boasted that she's never been late, she never failed to let him know that when he was. His smiles at the moment and glances at his watch again.
His hopeful heart goes cold and he rises from their couch. 'Funny' he thinks, 'two minutes have past but he doesn't remember lying himself down on their couch.
He looks down at it and remembers their couch – the first thing they bought together. He still remembers the day the muggle delivery man and himself manually brought it into their home. He remembers her smile and laugh, after it was finally in, at his complaining about the manual labour.
He walks slowly towards the exit, hoping against realization that she'll still come – even though another three minutes pass when he finally reaches the door. He leaves no note for her. There's no more need.
At the door he pauses and looks around 'their' home, the home where he once felt love but now feels emptiness instead.
He turns off the light and drops his keys into the dish. After some thought, he drops the other thing in there too. He closes the door, turns a corner and disapparates out of the dark, lonely area.
He hopes she'll eventually return but he doesn't want to rely on it – on her anymore.
In his heart he loves her still.
In his heart he wants to turn around and go back.
But he doesn't.
He's long gone by the times there's a pop in their living room and a rushed apology in the air.
He wonders one last time 'what happened between them? How did it get this way?'
But he's given no answer and is only left to lament.
A/N: gwaa.. its been a while. Happy New Year!