She was wearing long silk black dress. Her hear was tied perfectly in a knot on the back of her head and there was still part of it that fell elegantly on her bare shoulders. Her hands were folded and she was moving with an indescribably elegance. But her eyes had all the sadness in the world. They were starting ahead, but still as though life had abandoned them long ago. Her walk was fragile, almost as if she would collapse; but not from tiredness, it seemed as though her heart was bruised and she was too weak to go on. But still, there was something strong about her fragile figure.
This girl's name was Hermione. She was twenty-four now, and was going to attend a fancy party at her boyfriend's new house. Her love for Ron was strong, and her heart was pointing in his direction; she almost convinced herself in it. She loved the way he made her feel when she was with him. She loved Ron, and longed to see him. She had known him for more that ten years now.
Still, although she loved Ron, there was something that tortured her from inside. She knew it in every step she took, in everything she did. She was aware of it, aware that something was not right. After all, if she loved him so much as she said she did, that why did she felt like there was something missing in her life? Why was she so fragile, so weak when she was with him? Why did she felt so strange when he leaned to kiss her or simply to gather the hair from her face? Why did she back off a bit every time that happened?
The answer came as she swam through her memories from the past, and a man's face jumped in front of her. A face she wanted to forget, but couldn't. She didn't want to think about him, she wanted to forget him forever, but it was as though the memory of him didn't want to leave. No matter how hard she tried to let go of it, her heart lingered on to him. She hadn't seen him for five years now, but the memory of his face features was as fresh as if she had seen him only yesterday. She could still remember his perfume and almost sense it in those cold nights. She could almost see those cold eyes, cold and yet filled with such a mystery that she could not define.
She was ashamed
of it; ashamed that the man attracted her so much that it made her
cheat on Ron. And she didn't do it once. After every time they
would meet, she would feel guilt that tore her heart apart. And every
time she would see Ron's smiling face, the guilt increased in
amount that was almost unbearable. But every time she would see him,
the guilt was gone, and she would long to fall in his arms and stay
there forever. She would close her eyes and let her mind wonder off
in the fields of joy, the sun rays gentle rays stroking her face. The
feeling lasted…
Hermione wanted to think of him as of a
temporary obsession, but the more she was with him the more she came
to realize that it was love and lust she was feeling for him.
Countless were the occasions she wanted to tell Ron
everything, to pour her heart to the man that was always there for
her, but the minute she would see him, she would think better of
it.
She didn't know why she couldn't let go of her lover or
Ron. She didn't want to leave Ron; he provided her with the
protection she needed. And she didn't want to leave him.
He was the other part of what she was looking for.
When she was
with him, she was different person. It was like a whole new Hermione
would swim on the surface and take charge of Hermione's
body.
Perhaps that was the reason she couldn't let go of him.
She wanted that new her. It was the peace that was missing her whole
life, and now she found it and couldn't let go.
She loved him
and hated him at the same time.
She would meet him in the
night and spend all those divine hours with him, before returning
home and crying till she was too exhausted to cry any longer and
finally fall asleep. And every next day she would meet Ron.
But
what she really was ashamed of was the fact that every time she was
with Ron, she would count the hours of the next meeting with her
lover.
His name was Thomas Orison. A name she did not dare say
aloud for the past five years of fear that she would fell the same
lust for him.
He left her without saying a word.
As she
took a left turn she saw something that made her heart stop. She
closed her eyes, and after assuring herself that everything will be
fine she opened them again. Tears filled her eyes as she saw the
bench…
The memories came back to her… the memories of that
cold autumn day.
A girl of twenty was
sitting on the bench; hands crossed and yet loosely let on her lap.
Two shiny tears rolled down her pale cheeks, as she closed her eyes
in recollection of what had happened.
A man approached her, his
black hair fluttering behind him as he walked, and his eyes fixed
upon Hermione. She noticed him only when he sat next to her and put
his arm around her shoulder.
"Thomas…" she uttered weakly as she fall in his arms.
He hugged her with all the love he could master. She closed her eyes and started weeping.
"Why don't you come with me?" he asked suddenly, looking at her.
She opened her eyes and looked at his, "You know that I can't do that."
He didn't push the matter any further, just passed with his right hand through his hair and kissed her gently on her forehead, silently soothing her.
As the
memories of the past started overwhelming her, she got another blast
as she saw that she wasn't alone in that square she used to avoid
for the last five years and yet found her way easily, not even being
conscious of it.
No … that's not possible … he left!
He
was the same man she remembered. The same green eyes she used to
stare long hours into; the same lips she had kissed countless times;
the same black hair that fell elegantly in front of his face.
He
buried his divine gaze into her, and Hermione felt like made of wax;
she was melting in front of him. The same lust that was crouching
sleepily inside of her for the last five years seemed to have
awoken.
But that was not the only thing that awoke. She felt anger and fury from the very bottom of her soul.
"You left," she mouthed furiously. But it wasn't accusation; it was merely excuse for not looking for him for the last years.
"I had to," he replied. Merlin, his voice …
"You left," she repeated and tears appeared in her eyes, but she didn't even bother to hide them.
"I am sorry," Thomas lowered his head.
"All these years," she begun, but he interrupted.
"I
missed you."
"You filthy hypocrite," she hissed, tears of fury appearing her eyes.
"You didn't mind that once," he said the truth.
"I was different then," she said.
"You are not," he said, looking her in the eyes. He was tempting her, but she wouldn't bow to him.
"You wouldn't know."
"Let me judge about if for myself," he said and came even closer to her. Their bodies were dangerously close now. She could feel his warm breath in her neck. Chills appeared all over her body. She wanted to give herself to him, now, but she mustn't!
"You have nothing to judge," she said weakly, but manage to resist and backed of off him.
"I missed you," he repeated.
"Don't lie," she hissed.
"You know I don't lie, Hermione," he said. His voice drove her over the edge, "You know me."
"Do I?" she asked desperately, trying not to believe him.
"Yes, you do," he said and approached her again. He put her arms around her waist. Hermione didn't resist, she couldn't. She longed for this moment for years now.
"Don't do this," she begged, fighting against her strong urge to fell in his arms.
He knew this. He knew that she had never forgotten him, that she had never forgotten the long hour in the night spend together. He knew this and he tempted her. He moved his head slowly until he finally had his cheek pressed against hers.
"You want me to go?" he whispered in her ear.
"No," she answered, and backed off
of him. He was taken aback by this.
"I don't want you to go,
but you have to."
"What?"
"I am with Ron, Thomas," she said firmly.
"You were with him back then," he said, "and that didn't bother you."
"You know it
did, but I couldn't resist you then. I can't resist you even now,
but I have to."
"I can't be with you and Ron," she said,
"I have to pick one."
She couldn't help not noticing how
ironic this sounded.
"Than be with me," Thomas said.
"I need to be safe, Thomas," she said, "Ron can provide that."
"I
can do that too," he said.
"I love you, Hermione."
He
was pleading.
She didn't answer, she just left him there. She
walked to Ron's house as she started crying. She just realized
something; she loved Thomas, not Ron. But she mustn't be with him,
they have no future together.
She entered the party. Ron came
greeting her, but left soon, not even noticing that there was
something wrong with Hermione. He never did. All these years he never
realized anything. He never knew that she wanted something more. All
of his riches couldn't satisfy her. Ron was a huge Quidditch star
now. But he didn't know her. The only person that knew and still
knows her is Thomas.
She never believed that he loved her, but
now she was sure of it. There was no way she could be safe with him,
he is so unpredictable. But wasn't it the reason she loved him so
much? Wasn't it the reason that made her long for him, abandon all
of her principles and be with him?
Rain started pouring the
windows. Hermione followed one drop falling. At first it was all
alone, and then collided with another one… She closed her eyes and
let the tears roll down her cheeks. She could not escape the truth,
and she knew it.
She loved Thomas, not Ron. She wanted to be the
Hermione she was with Thomas, not this helpless little girl.
She
ran out of the house and out in the rain. She was soaking wet within
seconds. She didn't care, she just started running and looking for
Thomas.
There was only one place he could be in. She run, not
aware of time or weather; only one thing mattered. She ran, dragging
her dress on the muddy streets but she didn't care.
Her knot on
the back loosened both from the running and from the rain. Not even
being aware of doing so, she let it fall on her shoulders as she
continued running.
At last she spotted him sitting on one of the benches. She walked up to him, and he as though he knew what was happening lifted up his head and saw her. He was wet too. Droplets of rain were rolling on his face as he smiled to her, a smile that warmed her while being.
"Why are you out here," he yelled, trying to be louder that the rain.
"I just realized something," she yelled back.
"What did you realize?" he asked and stood up, closing in to Hermione.
"That I love you and want to be with you!"
"What?"
"That I love you and want to be with you," Hermione smiled.