Silver and Shadows

The light from the pale moon shone onto the lake and crept across the pacific waters to the opposite shore, where it illuminated the golden locks of a teenage girl sitting on the bare ground. It was not a cold night, but it was slightly chilly, and the girl was hugging her chest. The silver light showed that there were a few glistening streaks of water on her pale cheeks. She was staring at the surface of the lake, crying silently.

After a while, a figure appeared in the semi-darkness, walking toward the girl. She turned her head and saw him approaching her, and angrily brushed away the tears on her face. He had a hard expression on his handsome face. Finally, he stopped right in front of the girl. She didn't look up.

"Katie," he said. He spoke in a rough Scottish accent that melted her heart, though she would never admit it. "Look, I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me."

She clenched her fists in anger. "You could have stopped yourself easily, only you didn't. You were enjoying it!" The last words came out as a shriek.

He seemed like he was trying to suppress a laugh. "I said I'm sorry! I didn't realize you'd get so insulted!" His warm brown eyes pleaded with her, but she refused to listen.

"You have a girlfriend, Oliver! What were you doing kissing me?"

He shrugged. "To tell you the truth, I've been planning on breaking up with her."

She stared at him. "So what? You're still together." Disgusted, she got up from her sitting position and started making her way back to the castle. He called after her, begging her to come back, but she just ignored him. And then he was chasing her, and she was running now; and though she was a fast runner and she was fit from flying, he also played Quidditch, and she knew he would soon catch up to her. Finally, when she could run no longer, she stopped, her hands on her legs to support herself, her breath coming in shallow gasps. He strode over to her easily, and his breath was somehow still slow and even.

A sudden gust of icy wind blew, and she involuntarily shivered. He noticed and held out his arms. "Here." But she shook her head, not wanting to be comforted by him. He ignored her and wrapped his arms around her body. "You're cold," he whispered.

"Go away," she whispered back, but he didn't let go. She shrieked in fury, and he only tightened his grip. "Oliver, I don't know what's making you do this, but it's hurting me, okay?"

When she said it, he let go. He mumbled an apology and then gazed into her green eyes. She stared back, angrily, wishing he would just leave.

But he still watched her, and she said, "You've kissed so many girls before. And you never loved a single one of them. It's cruel, Oliver, and extremely selfish."

He was shaking his head now. "No, Katie, I don't want you to feel that way." He reached over and lifted her chin toward him with his right hand. "You're not one of those girls."

She was aware of his hand underneath her face, and she wanted to pull away from him again, but she was unable to look away from those piercing eyes. "Then why did you kiss me?" She spoke so softly she could barely hear her own words.

"I'm sorry," was all he said. It was not an answer, but it was all he would give. And then he suddenly leaned forward and was kissing her again. She could not believe that he was doing it–hadn't he just said that he was sorry? His right arm still held her chin, and his left arm was wrapped around the back of her head and neck, trapping her. She could not get away, no matter how much she squirmed. His lips moved desperately against hers, warm and soft and comforting, and no one had ever kissed her like this, but she still tried to wrench her lips away from his, only it was impossible. Her arms, though, were free, and she realized that she could use them; she pushed at his face with both hands until, finally, he let go of her.

"What did you do that for!" she screamed. She was horrified; but he, too, seemed shocked at his own behavior. "You...you said I wasn't like one of those girls..."

He shook his head. "You're not, Katie, don't you realize? I didn't mean to do that!"

She didn't understand.

He sighed exasperatedly. "With those other girls, I kiss them when I mean to! I've never gotten out of control like that. I...they're not...I mean, you..."

And still she stared at him, shaking her head in confusion. "Does that...that means something, then? I'm not...what?"

He groaned in frustration and ran his hands angrily through his hair. "I thought you were smart, Katie! I've never had the instance where I...kissed someone and couldn't control myself. But you..."

And suddenly, the truth of what he was saying seemed to sink in, and she backed away from him, her eyes widening in horror. No. It was okay if she loved him...she could go on with her life and no one would ever know about it. But if he really was telling the truth and he loved her back...

He knew now that she knew, and he did not know why she was so horrified...all those other girls would have been delighted if it was them...but maybe that was why he loved her. She was different; she was stunned to find out how he felt about her, she obviously did not love him.

She suddenly let out a miserable cry and dropped to the ground. He rushed over to her and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. He kissed her again, softer this time, trying to soothe her. She hated how his lips were so perfectly smooth and relaxing; she wanted to just let him kiss her forever, but she was stubborn, and she forced herself to turn her face away.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't be doing that, it's really horrible of me. I don't want to insult you, Katie, but I just can't...not...but it's wrong of me, I know, especially now that I know you don't love me back..."

But he was wrong, she thought. "You don't understand," she muttered, as he carried her back to the castle.

"So explain it to me, please?" he asked. "If you don't want to, you don't have to, of course, but you should know that I would never mention it to anyone else, ever." He rested his head on hers for a few seconds and closed his eyes, but he did not stop walking.

"It's not like that," she mumbled. "To me, you are..." She trailed off. Finding no other way to tell him, she said, "Kiss me."

He seemed surprised, but obeyed instantly, eagerly pressing his lips to hers for the fourth time that night. She'd been kissed before, but never like this. He didn't have to hold her still this time, for she did not try to get away. He was passionate, but not rough, and for a while she let his warm lips calm her trembling ones; then she was kissing him back, and he was so delighted that she was responding that he was even more enthusiastic than before. She had never felt so wonderful, and she stretched her hands upward to put around his neck and hold his head against hers.

Finally, he pulled his lips from hers. She breathed in deeply, taking in lungfuls of oxygen. He stared at her with a mixture of shock and pleasure. Then his brow furrowed in anger. "You're teasing me, aren't you?" he said, his beautiful voice filled with hurt.

She didn't understand how he could possibly think that. "Never. I love you, Oliver. I just don't get how...after all this time...when did you...?"

"Years ago," he said.

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "But you never...you...I always..." She could not speak.

"Do you want me to put you down?" he asked.

"What? Oh, no, no, don't." She curled up tighter against his chest, and he sighed. She added, "Why? Are you getting tired?"

He shook his head. "No, but...I want to kiss you properly now."

She smiled. "Okay...but wait till we're in the castle, alright?" She wanted to stay in his arms.

He nodded, and then carried her across the dark grounds to the building in the distance. The shimmering light of the moon followed him the whole way, casting dim shadows, until the castle's huge double door closed behind him.