Disclaimer: The world, characters, scene and stuff are not mine. Ok?
He had promised. Promised to keep her safe. But he hadn't, he had broken his word. He had killed her. I knew she was gone, even as I stepped over threshold of the house in ruins, I knew.
I knew because apart of me had gone too, a part of me had followed her to the grave. And left behind was a man incapable of love. Incapable of anything but hatred and loathing.
The stairs seemed like a a mountain. A mountain of pain that taunted me, taunted me because of my exhaustion, my longing and my agony.
He was at the top, Potter. Laying there, lifeless skin and eyes that stared forward, forever looking, forever unseeing. He had stolen her, and now she was dead. He hadn't protected her. Now she was gone.
The silence was unbearable. It was pressing down on me, it was like the house itself was cursed. The silence was warning me that there was no life, here. Nothing worth finding, not anymore. But as I turned a corner, I saw light coming from a room at the end. Light, life.
I walked forward. I wouldn't break down, but I dreaded what I would see. I dreaded it more than I ever had dreaded something before. I dreaded seeing my life's purpose sprawled on the floor. Broken, shattered. Dead.
That's exactly what I did see.
But I still couldn't have imagined the pain and loss that would greet me there. It crashed around me, overpowered me. I couldn't do anything about it because my feelings just came flooding out. I couldn't stop myself from cradling her. I couldn't stop my tears as the dripped from my face and into her auburn hair, that, once so fiery, now covered her face. Dully serving as a reminder that nothing can live on forever.
Nothing except love.
I held for as long as I could. I broke down in her arms as she lay dead in mine. She was gone, she was gone forever. She wasn't coming back.
I could only just hear her son crying in the background. I ignored it though, he could cry all he wanted. But his grief would never be as much as mine.
My heart had died with her and I bid it farewell. Without her, there was no use for it. Without her, there was no use for love. No use for feelings.
The room was still lit up by the lamp. The fresh blue walls and toys scattered about reminded me of how new and innocent this murder was. How, only hours ago, she would of been laughing and playing with her husband and son.
Then, it hadn't been to late. Then, my life had not yet crumbled, it had not yet fallen. It was only on the edge.
But now it was gone. Too far fallen, too far into the chasm and it wouldn't return. My existence from now would merely be surviving. I would never truly live again. Not until the day I died, not until I saw her again.
It was then I realised I had to stop blaming people. I had to stop naming murderers. Because it was my fault. If I hadn't called her that name, if I hadn't pushed her away. We would still he friends, and she would never of fallen for Potter.
I left my soul in that house. I left everything in that house. I've been searching and searching but nothing can fill the hole that Lily Evans left behind.
I'm a broken man. Broken, and nothing can fix me.
