Disclaimer: JKR owns me.
Revoked:
Part of me is happy that I got to know what it was, that I was able to feel it. Some go for much longer than I have without it, some never do feel it. That part makes it so much harder to feel as horrible as I do. Makes it so much harder to accept the piercing sensation in my heart and the wracking of sobs. It beats me up for not just appreciating the fact that although it didn't last long, and although it wasn't full, I had it inside me, not mutually, but in me.
The other says I'm young, naïve, stupid. That I shouldn't have felt something that strong, not for long anyway. That I still don't know the depths and that it has fooled me and blinded me. Contained me for a time. That it was just waiting to happen, my powers where just waiting to leave, longing to crash. I could feel Tonks draining out, vibrant bubblegum pink and dark blue. And Nymphadora taking her place, dull mousy brown and black.
That I shouldn't have indulged in it as much as I did. That it was a scarce feeling and overusing it would only drain the limited supply from him. Leaving me having too much and him having none.
But above that, part of me believed there was still hope. That I knew he loved me. That he was being what I loved him for, Remus.
"Remus." I said. The cold of linoleum of my flat stinging my flesh through my jeans. "Don't."
But he didn't listen, as much as I knew he wanted to. As much as I knew that he wanted to turn down the mission. To hold me and to love me, again. He couldn't. And I couldn't say anything else. I loved him too much to make it harder for him, too much.
I knew he would give anything to come back through my front door, the one he had just closed. To pick me up off the floor, the place he just left me. To tell me he loved me, the words he just revoked, falsely.
But no sounds came but the patting of tear-dampened lashes onto cheeks and the occasional sob. My flat carried the ghosts or romances. Re-enactments. They replayed in my head. Detached, distant. Stop, Tonks. Stop, Nymphadora. It hurts.
A/N The angst ensues. I really love R/T and JKR is a meany head, but it has to be done. I will probably write some lighter fluff if I am so enthused by your wonderful reviews.