Hey Guys!!! My first Fanfiction…well, first posted one, anyway. :-D
Confusing at first, but keep reading, and it shall explain itself
I don't own Harry Potter...T^T though it makes me sad T^T Oh well. But I would take Sev is Mrs. Rowling doesn't want him!
Enjoy! Reviews greatly appreciated!
And now, to the story
Has It Always
Has it always been like this? I ask myself this as I look into those hard, granite eyes, searching for an answer. But I get none. What, alone, in this lonely world, do I have left to live for? Is it him? Has it always been him, Draco Malfoy? Has it always been set for me to love my hatred? Or has it been Him, the other that I was set to love? Has it always been so that I disregard my feelings of cautiousness, as if it is a single left thrown into the air? As an unwavering thought of nothing, but a gentle breeze, the most crisp Autumn air.
The colors of the season...red…yellow...orange…brown.., a natural thing for others, yet so unnatural for us. It is all animalistic desire. We care not for season, the lonely days, the month, the time, or anything else. We do not pause to see the beauty in others, or the world around us. And yet, we do see what a beautiful place this is, for we can see the silence, and hear the calls of our lonely hearts. But, yet, we only need our drug. Our lifeline. Our lover. Ourselves. But do we? Has it always been our need to fill each other's life, like filling and empty glass with water. But the water is tainted. But, then, has it always been so void of emotion, as I feel right now.
Like emptying the glass in a sink, without taking a sip to control your thirst. I receive his emotion, but I do not absorb it. It was different with Him. But, has it always been that Draco looks at me with such malice? So much hatred? So much, that I can feel it as well as see it in his cold, hard eyes? Yes, it has? Or no, it hasn't?
He shakes his head. His eyes are now full of love. But, is it real? How could he know that I feel like this? I tell him nothing yet, he knows everything. Just like Him. The empty glass is refilled, and I am filled will emotions once more. Yet, I will soon be emptied again, like a hollow being, deprived of what I need to survive.
I feel love for this blonde, but is it real love? No, it is not. The only one who I have felt real love for was Him. I fear I have no more love to give. I love this man, but only as one would love the sky, the trees, as one would appreciate the crisp coolness of the season. Of the colors. But not as a lover, as another part of me I have been missing, no. He does not make my heart flutter, or doesn't make the supposed "butterflies in my stomach" fly. He does none of these things, and neither did she…they both are greedy. Taking what I so readily give, and giving nothing back in return….leaving me to bleed on the floor on the floor, not knowing when a sudden burst of longing will come, like it has now. He takes my hand.
He kisses it. He pulls me up, leads me to our bedroom. I hear the door shut. An interruption in the sullenness of our lives. He loosens my tie, it falls to the floor. The collar of my shirt is opened. He litters my neck with kisses. My cheeks flush, my breath hitches. And, yet, I feel no emotion toward the blonde. His love does not fill me, the emotion is gone. The glass has been tipped over, on it's side. The tainted water leaks out. You keep trying to fill it, but the water keeps running out.
Our shirts are littering the floor. And I am pushed roughly into the wall. Draco kisses me, but it is not his face I see. I see black hair, it brushes my face. . His tongue dwells on my mouth, but, yet, it is not his tongue. He is not the vanilla scented man that I am accustomed to. It is the spicy bitterness, and the smell of old books that surrounds me.
Our pants are gone. I am pushed down onto the bed. I still feel nothing. No emotion. I do not feel nervous. I do not feel love. I feel nothing. I feel nothing else for this blonde. As I feared, I have no love left to give. The glass is still emptied.
In our animalistic desire, we notice nothing. Tonight is the first night I notice how truly beautiful the blonde really is. For the first time I notice how his hair stands out, shines, in the little moonlight that flutters through the closed curtains. For the first time, I notice his alabaster skin, the color, feel, and look of smooth marble. I notice his face, every angle carved perfectly, as if carved from stone. For the first time, I notice he is so beautiful, yet so lonely. I do not understand why I still feel no emotion. He is not Him.
Draco is not the one that filled the glass and kept it full with clear, untainted water. That man is gone. He is not the one. His eyes so pale, while the others were so dark, onyx. That man died years ago, along with part of myself. He died while I was too young to understand the feelings we shared between us. Too young to understand that he was the part I was missing in my life, in my soul, in myself. Too young to understand that I was the same to Him. Too late, I realized, to say I love you and really mean it. Too late to tell him goodbye. Ten years later, I realized. Ten years too long. Ten years too late.
I am pulled from my thoughts. Draco takes me into his mouth. So warm and waiting, yet so cold and empty. I do not belong here, and neither does he. The normal movements. They seem almost involuntary now. My head thrown back, in total ecstasy, a faux blush running up my cheeks. My hands knead through his silky hair. Involuntary movements. No emotion behind them. No emotion whatsoever. The glass is still tipped over. I am bucking my hips into his mouth. Or is it Him I am thinking of? Of his piercing onyx eyes. This is another involuntary movement. A question comes to mind. Has the glass always been tipped over, I was just unable to see?
He kisses me, and I taste the bitterness that is myself. And again I kiss back. As if we rehearsed this whole act of love, and it means nothing to us at all. The room is heated from our actions. He leans back, I lean down. He is waiting, or is it Him, that is waiting? His eyes, his onyx eyes, on mine, or is it pale gray eyes that I see? I can not tell anymore. I miss Him. I look at what awaits my mouth. I lean back down. My tongue flicks out, then I take it in whole. The blonde's actions aren't involuntary. He feels emotion. Still, I do not. My tongue swirls around. Round. Round. Round. My head goes up and down, his is thrown back in sheer bliss. He starts to buck. I allow him to do so. I need proof I am alive, proof that I am still on this earth. I need to feel this way. This is the only way.
He lets out a moan, but I hear nothing but silence. The only thing we share. The glass is still empty, still tipped, as am I. My face is pushed into the pillows. I see His face, so full of love, and caring, just as it was long ago. I gasp as his hand slides over my rear. Still involuntary movements. Where do they originate?
One finger. Two. Three. I scream in false pleasure. I really feel none at all. His face burns my eyes. I start to cry. I miss the black hair, the tender caresses, the feel of rough, scared skin on mine. But Draco's is smooth, perfect. Too perfect. Draco pushes in. I cry even harder. His face won't go away. Why? Why? Why? I am filled with Draco, yet I am not filled at all. I feel so empty. I spread my legs, my body trying to urge him further in. Damn these involuntary movements. They won't stop.
In, out. In, out. In, out. My mind focuses on the rhythm of the thrusts. Has it always? I don't know. The answers I so desperately need are gone, buried with Him. What is the meaning of this act? What does this Malfoy mean to me, if all I see or hear is him. But this is not true. I only see and hear Him. He is everywhere I seem to go. My back arches into his movements. Our bodies do not fit together. My body fit perfectly with His. Only His.
Why are there still no emotions? Why has no one turned the glass upright? Even if the water is tainted with the deadliest poisons, it will still quench your thirst, just as the tainted love I receive used to settle my nerves. But it does not anymore. That time has passed.
I scream as I come, the pressure inside me releases itself. He follows after me, in a couple thrusts. We are spent. We try to sleep. He accomplishes what I can not. I lie awake. It is impossible to sleep. I still sob quietly. I can not control these emotions. The first I have had for years. But they are not for the Malfoy, no. That would seem inappropriate.
I miss Him so much. It hurts. I long to be with Him. The memories return. Has it always be this difficult to love another? It probably has. I have just never noticed. Draco's breathing becomes slow. What does this man mean to me? Has it always been that he means nothing? I can't find the answer. I look at his dark mark. I trace it softly with my finger, so as not to wake him. It is still there, after ten years. Not dulled. Not faded in anyway. I remove my finger, I look away. It reminds me of Him.
I kiss the blond faintly. I get up. I get dressed. Such tedious tasks. Every task is. I turn to look at the blonde once more. There is a chance I will not come back. He truly is beautiful, but I can not stay. He needs a real lover. Not me. I am not what he needs. I need to leave. Has it always been like this? Me needing to get away? I leave my wand next to our picture, taken in the Summer the previous year. Was I ever that happy? I pick up my glasses. I turn to leave. I do not bother to take anything. I will not be coming back.
Why does no one pick up the broken glass? Does no one care anymore? Has it always been like this? Why do I always leave, but come back? I shan't tonight. I am leaving for good. I walk out the front door. I pull my jacket closer. I just need to be alone.
I need to be alone with Him. My real true love. Has it always been this depressing? I can't take it anymore! WHY?
I take a few steps. I look to the sky. The colors of purple and red are wonderful. I notice everything. No more animalistic desire. I appreciate the world. The colors I have never seen before. It is wonderful. I wonder if He has seen this sight for these ten long years.
I walk a little further. I understand now. It all becomes clear. They were both just a replacement. Draco and Ginny. A surrogate for something I always needed, but never had. I haven't had it in ten years.
I tread through the leaves. The crunch of them becomes welcome, breaking the silence. The crisp Autumn air is cool against my skin. It feels good. I have not felt this good in ten years. It is welcomed.
I want to be with Him. I miss Him so much. I tread through the creek. The water rushes over my bare feet. I forgot shoes. I don't mind. I like it better this way. The sound is beautiful. The sound of this nature is beautiful. I am almost there.
I walk to the other bank. I sit on a rock. I sit and think. I will not be going back to the sleeping blonde tonight. But, has it always been that I wanted to do this. I put my hand in my breast pocket. I pull out a silver piece of metal. It is so surprising that a piece of metal can kill someone. Yet, I need to do this. I want to be with Him. I put the cold metal to my head. I will be there soon. I am thankful. I have saved the world. I no longer want to live. I pull the trigger. I smile. His is there, arms open wide in welcome. I run to Him, and he embraces me, as if he had be gone out only for an hour or two. But I know it has been ten years.
Twenty-seven. Too young to die, to most. Too long to have gone with out Him, to me. We watch as my real body falls. I cry as a see Draco run through the creek to catch it, crying. He will miss me, but he will find someone better. I know he will. I walk away from Severus, I walk forward, toward the Malfoy, and plant a feather-light kiss to his temple. I doubt he even felt it. I will miss the time we spent together, though not as much as the time I spent away from Him. I have missed Severus. Since the day that he died. But I am back with him now. I turn. His eyes are also full of tears. I am finally free. And yet, haven't I always been?
Has it always been like this?
Harry. He calls. Harry. The voice is so sweet. Oh, how I have missed it.
Has it always been like this?
The tears fall like diamonds from Draco's eyes. The only things glittering thin this twilight.
Has it always been like this?
I am here. Ready to leave.
Haven't I always?