If Only

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The soft light from the fire played with the shadows in his hair, casting images of devilish horns and angelic wings among the dark strands. Slight stubble covered his chin, giving him a sort of rakish charm. I studied the angular lines of his face, reading the determination and kindness that made up majority of his character. His dark brows were relaxed, a rare but welcome change. His world so often fell apart; he had no choice but to be strong.

I quickly looked away when he raised his warm brown eyes from his task. Even without looking at them, I could remember what I had seen in our soulgaze a few months before.

He stood before me, power radiating off of him. One his back was a pair of bloody and stained white wings, broken in most places, but beautiful all the same. His face was set in a mask of determination and pain, but in his eyes I saw warmth. The kind of warmth that made me think of my father. His left hand gripped a glowing silver staff and his right gripped his glowing silver pentacle, light radiating from both.

Looking at him, I felt a rush of emotions. I felt ashamed of myself. I felt safe for the first time in a while. I felt the need to be better. I felt like I should do something - anything - to save him and make the pain go away.

Even before I'd looked into his soul, I'd felt something for the man sitting before me. Afterwards, though, I fell in love with him.

I'd never understood the weight burden he bore, the amount pain he took on willingly so nobody else would have to deal with it. He'd done it for me, too.

I never told my mother what I'd seen in his soul. I think she would've been ashamed that she'd treated him so poorly all those years, but I knew he wouldn't have wanted me to make her feel guilty.

I turned back to face him again. I found that he'd turned back to the fire and had resumed repairing the carvings on his staff. I fought the urge to reach out and stroke his face. He'd made it very clear the first day that there was never going to be an 'us'. He was the teacher, and I was the student.

He breathed out softly holding up the staff to get a better look at his work, double checking all the markings to be sure they were all correct. Then he turned towards me and his face broke out in a crooked smile. I felt my heart hammer against my chest a little faster at the sight.

He should smile more, I thought.

"Next week you'll get to chose what kind of focus item you want to use, grasshopper." The smile stayed on his face, and I couldn't help but think how much better the room seemed when he smiled.

"S-sounds great, Harry," I stumbled over the first word, my mind still muddled from thinking about our soulgaze.

A load HONK informed the two of us that my mother had arrived to pick me up. I cleared my throat quietly and rose from the soft couch. "Mom's here," I said.

The smile faded, but his face stayed relaxed and contentment showed in his eyes. "Grab your bag; I'll walk you out."

"Great," I rolled my eyes. "Let's she doesn't try to kill you." My mother and Harry didn't exactly have a loving relationship, though it had gotten better since he'd taken me on as his apprentice.

"Hey!" He protested as he rose from his seat. "Charity secretly loves me and you know it." He waggled his dark eyebrows, a mischievous grin forming.

I tried to suppress a giggle at his face, and only barely succeeded. I grabbed my bag from the floor and started trying to tug his warped door open. It took a few pulls, but I finally opened it wide enough for both of us to walk out of. I heard him chuckle at the effort I had to use to open it, and turned to stick my tongue out at him. He only laughed a little bit louder.

I huffed and stuck my nose in the air, walking up the cement steps of his basement apartment into the chilly Chicago air. I saw my mom waiting in the car just in front of the building and waved at her. She smiled and waved back, but it quickly faded into a frown as she saw Harry walk up the steps behind me.

If only she knew how strong and wonderful he was, I thought.

I walked slowly over to the car, and felt rather than saw Harry stop at the curb while I continued to the street and my mother.

"Bye, grasshopper." His loud baritone called out as I climbed into the car beside my mother. "Lovely to see you as always, Charity." I could hear the smile in his words.

Mom rolled her eyes as she started the car and started to pull away from my teacher and his home. I turned back only once, just in time to see Harry walk down the steps and to his apartment.

I love you, My mind screamed back at him. If only things were different, so many things. I turned to the window, watching my breath fog up the glass and feeling tears blur my vision. If only...