This is for Round I of fanfiction idol: our song. I was given a stanza from Need You Now by Lady Antebellum, and told to write a fic using it.
This is also for the lovely Nic (just a beautiful m i s t a k e) as an extremely belated birthday present, by over a month, uhm. I love you. :)
Also, in case you were wondering, I don't own Harry Potter.
warnings: there is an extremely brief reference to self-harm, and the whole piece refers to depression.
and I wonder if I ever cross your mind
for me it happens all the time
-Need You Now; Lady Antebellum
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"This is perfect," she breathes, but it's not, it's not.
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She sits by her window, watching the raindrops race each other down the pane, listening to the wind howling outside, missing the touch of his arm draped around her shoulder. She messed it up, she screwed it all up, and it's terrible, because it's all her fault.
(Maybe if she could feel something—anything—maybe then, it could've worked out.)
.
"I love you," he whispers, and she smiles, reaching a hand out to touch his face.
"I love you too," she tells him, but it's a lie, it's a lie.
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Her jumper is too small for her, and she tries to tug down the sleeves, trying to hide the angry red marks that criss-cross her wrist. There are no tears in her eyes, because she's numb. All she can do is think of him, think of him and all they used to be and all that they never were.
A vase sits on the table, the home to a bunch of roses that he gave her. They were bright red, but they've faded, and she's left them there for too long, and they're dead, broken and looking frail and thin and so utterly gone. She hasn't even noticed; she hasn't moved from her window seat for a long time. She feels unable to move, like she's been glued to her seat, like there's a barrier around her, forcing her to sit there and stare out the window, thinking of him and wondering if he ever thinks of her.
She comes to the conclusion that he probably doesn't.
(But he does, oh, he does.)
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"I want to be with you forever, Rose Weasley," he says. "I want to hold your hand walking through Diagon Alley, I want to know that you're mine and that I'm yours."
"I want to be with you, too," she tells him, but it's not true, it's not true.
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She wishes that she could feel something, feel anything. The fact is, she's numb; she's shut off all her feelings and she can't feel anything for the man who loved her the most. He gave her everything and she gave him nothing in return, and yet he still loved her more than anything. She knows all this and yet there's nothing she can or will do about it, because she's shut away from the world, shut away from everything.
There's a reason why she never was quite Gryffindor enough, because she's a coward. She hides from everyone else, she hides from feelings, and worst of all, she hides from herself.
(But she can't stop this game of hide and seek she's playing all on her own.)
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"What I really want to know is… will you do me the honour of being my wife?" he asks, smiling, looking nervous.
Rose lies. She's good at lying. "I will," she says. "I'd love to," she adds on, but she wouldn't, she wouldn't.
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There's a crackly radio in the corner, turned to some Muggle station, and Rose half listens to the song of two lovers who need each other. She wonders if she needs him. She wants to need him, but the fact is, she doesn't, and she can't, and she won't. She doesn't need him now - she's never needed him - but she thinks of him, and wishes that she needed him. Maybe then she could be normal, but the fact is, she's not.
(He's thinking of her, staying at Albus' flat for the night, he's thinking of her; wondering what he did wrong.)
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"I want to have the wedding soon. I don't want to spend a moment longer than necessary not having you as my wife," he tells her, smiling.
"As soon as possible," she agrees, but she doesn't want it, she doesn't want it.
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She doesn't know how she got this way, doesn't know how she got so numb that she could barely feel a thing when a man loved her that much. Maybe she used to love him, but the feelings disappeared and she was left with nothing but a feeling of numbness, and it was the numbness that hurt the most. Maybe it was when he first cheated on her, all those years ago. Rose Weasley was never a forgiving person, never, and she didn't forgive him. She never could.
The radio crackles on in the corner of the room, playing songs that Rose can't relate to because she doesn't need anyone, and she doesn't think she loves anyone either. She loved him once, but now everything she felt for him is gone, sweeping away into the tortured wind.
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"Do you, Scorpius Malfoy, take Rose Weasley to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the Wizarding minister asks.
"I do," he replies, squeezing Rose's hand as tight as he can, thinking to reassure her.
"And do you, Rose Weasley, take Scorpius Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband?" he asks her.
Rose hesistates, a lump forming in her throat. "No," she manages to get out, barely more than a whisper. "No," she repeats, louder this time, almost shouting so the whole world can hear.
She detaches her hand from Scorpius' hand and looks him right in the eyes. "I'm sorry," she tells him, and she is, she is.
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Her engagement ring lies forgotten on her finger; she can hardly feel it there anymore. The sapphire gleams as the light streams through the windows, but Rose pays more attention to the illuminated raindrops. She thinks of Scorpius, wonders whether he's thinking of her, how often she crosses his mind. She doubts it's often, she thinks he probably wants to forget.
(Sitting in Albus' flat, he does want to forget, he does, but he can't.)
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They started off as so perfect, so happy together, and then they crumbled apart without really even noticing. They both blame themselves, but what can they do except move on?
And so they try, they try to move on and forget, but they're always going to be each others biggest 'what if'. They're always going to be thinking of each other, no matter what.
I hope you enjoyed it. :) Thanks to the flawless Lucy (WeasleySeeker) for beta'ing. :)
Please don't favourite without reviewing. :)