A/N: (ahem!) I'm back everyone! With a brand new attack! This is 'I want you close' a new little ficlet that may not last long. I need another bout of inspiration, up to Call it a Love Story standards. But for now... chapter 1!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

HPDM

Dedicated to Black Eyed Wicca! You rock, woman!

What started it was his voice.

It sounded like he was singing, quick little words chasing each other out of his mouth. His annunciation was impeccable. He should've gone into theater.

But then again, no. His voice was so soft. It could never be heard above the roar of an audience. He had one of those voices you have to lean in close to hear. It always seemed so loud, so harsh in public. But when he's himself, when he's real, you have to put your face right next to his to catch everything. You almost feel his breath before you can hear him speak. Whenever I tell him this, he only smirks.

"Good," He'll say. "I want you close."

And I'll laugh, too, and pull him in tighter, and listen to those words, running across his lips and down the air in front of us. I'm always quiet, listening. I'm terrified I might miss something.

He was never very good with the touchy-feely stuff, the emotional stuff. At least, not with talking about it. It's like he says everything, except what he wants to say sometimes. He fidgets when he's held. But I think he likes it.

Sometimes, I listen as he says the most terrible things.

"I could never love you," He'll hiss. "You're just going to die soon."

When he's in one of those moods, I listen. Then I wait. I watch him, silent, as he beats his pale fists on my chest. I move my arms around his middle, ignoring the pain, and he stops thrashing.

He used to try to hide his tears, but he doesn't anymore. He'd look up at me with those tempest eyes of his, and I knew he was lying.

He knew I knew. Whatever worked. I was just as scared about leaving him, as he was of loosing me.

"I love you," I'd tell him. "I'll never leave you."

Oh, but isn't it ironic? I never left him at all. All the battles behind me, all the chaos, all the press. And he left me.

But then, he'd never made me a promise.

I heard he was with a Slytherin girl; who had thick dark hair and dark green eyes. Sometimes I wondered how no one saw the connection. It would've made me laugh, if I weren't so put out about it.

Every week, though, I'd know he was there. Most of the time, he would cry, watching me. Sometimes I would cry too.

"I want you close," I'd whisper. To the air; to him. But for a year, he never came. I never asked why he left. I never had to.

But on the thirty-first of July, our anniversary, he came. I've never been more surprised to see him. There he was, in all his glory, rainwater running through his hair and down his face. On my doorstep. We stood, for a second, quiet. Neither said anything. No one moved.

"Harry," He'd started in. something unidentifiable rose up to my chest, pushing to get out.

It was those words! They were back, and they were faster than ever! They were pouring from that perfect lips, down that perfect mouth, rolling with the rain. I was trying so hard not to cover my ears, not to break down. Just seeing him was too much. A few more words, and we'd be back to where we were. And I would not have my heart broken by the likes of Draco Malfoy again.

"No!" I'd bellowed, stabbing my index finger at his broad chest. He was supposed to be the vulnerable one, not me. But who was close to tears? Who was going to melt after a couple of words? I set my jaw, and steeled my emotions.

"This time," I told him, slowly. "I'm going to do the talking."

A/N: Oh em gee! What will Harry say? I dunno yet.

But Review and make me a happy woman!

TruestBlue