Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Seriously.
A/N: Originally written for Challenge #216 ~ Confusion at slashthedrabble, but I missed the deadline.
A/N2: Like the drabble, please comment. Cheers!
She tells me she loves me, she tells me she hates me (and the words echo over and over again, the ringing is like a caress against my sensitive heart). All in the space of one heartbeat, all in the time it takes her to move in and move away - an imprint on me that disappears and a shadow on her that stays (and kisses on each other that feel too solid, touches that feel too insubstantial).
There is a coldness in her eyes that appeals and the strength in her fingers is magnetic. (Or maybe they are all the attributes I so value in myself and she simply does a wonderful job of reflecting them back at me?)
Her lips do not smile and her eyes do not light - the world is a black and white place, and it simply dims even more when we come close (to love each other, to hate each other).
She tells me she hates me, she tells me she loves me. I do not know which is right, I do not know which is preferable, but I do know I want my Andromeda close to me (to love me, hate me).