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Dark Desire

"Desire is a craving that can't be tamed, it's a wild beast that's ravenous to devour; resolute and unfulfilled."- Black Ghostly Curse.

~O~

It's become an obsession. I can't seem to help myself. I'm drawn towards him. My heart beats a fraction when other girls throw themselves at him. My eyes flicker up to him when I hear his laugh. Delicious chills raise the hair on my arms. A smile contorts my face as I observe the merry mirth in his charcoal-grey eyes. Immersed in his gaze I don't immediately register the warm touch on my shoulder.

"Rose," a voice shrieks in my ear, shaking my shoulders, forcing the juice travelling down my throat to squirt out of my mouth and spill onto my robes. Wrenching my gaze from my love, racking coughs seize me, taking away my breath. The warm hand slaps my back seeking to slow my choking and aiming to sooth my breathing to put me into a sense of calm. Once my breathing settles into even breaths, I freeze. It's quiet all of a sudden; hushed voices and a hundred pairs of eyes in every colour face me. The girl touching me immediately steps back.

I stand up; blood rushes to my head, a slow pounding works its way to my heart. Heat collects on my cheeks. Girls whisper and giggle. I look like a toad, my hair's messy, my robes dirty. He's even staring but he isn't gloating like the rest though, he doesn't come to my defence either. Feeling the tears about to pool, I turn to face the girl helping me earlier. "Thank you," I whisper, not daring to go higher in fear of catching the wrong crowd.

The girl, Olivia was it? I didn't know her well enough, though I passed her on occasions across the hallways heading to class. Her hair a deep burgundy, pulled into a high bun with the rest of her wavy hair framing her pale skin. Dark, brown eyes stared at me, a sadness dulling the spark in her eyes. She managed a strained half-smile half-frown before scurrying back to her seat. Aware of the hundred pairs of eyes on me including him, propels me to rush out the room in my haste to get away from eyes burning into my back, marking a black hole where my heart is.

The echoes of footsteps pitter patter across the marble floor, tearing the ground. Slap, slap, slap. Wiping my damp cheeks I noisily sniffle, my throat wobbling and clogging up from phlegm. Reaching the Gryffindor common room with red and gold banner with a lion in its centre, I cough up the password. The portrait swings open, allowing me passage. The lounge is empty. The silence bearing a void, where its screams of anguish are left to rot. Falling, I slam my head into the gold patterned cushion, raging my frustrations by punching the pillow, yelling till my voice is hoarse and shaking as sobs tear out my throat.

Doesn't he notice me? Aren't I pretty enough? What am I doing wrong? I'm trying too hard to get his attention. He's probably painfully aware of my crush on him. Grief mingles with hopelessness. Aching from exhausting muscles and a straining back, as I beat the cushions to death, I settle down into a blissful sleep.

-o-

Weeks pass by then into months. I'm possessed; a force has taken over me. Nothing is stopping me from self-preservation. A key has unlocked. I'm always near him, distant, but near. Whenever I can, I brush myself close to him, bathing in the heat radiating from his body. My skin tingles each time my hands graze his, when I help him with his books. His smile is enough to lighten my day. Still I can't get close enough. What do I say to him? How do I get close? I'm not used to this. Every attempt I make turns me into a blubbering mess, or someone else cuts me off, breaking the magic of the moment.

-o-

Today my heart skyrockets and a smile blooms on my face. Adrenaline, like I have never faced, seeps through my body generating an energy I haven't felt in a while. Confidence produces a spring in my step, my chin raised, chest puffed out. He knows. I don't even have to say anything. At breakfast he slips a note in my hand saying he wants to meet in the library at eight. I resist bouncing or squealing, like life couldn't be more generous, in case someone found out.

So, quietly I leave the common room and hurry to the library. Taking deep breaths I push open the doors to the library. I smile at the librarian and promptly sign in. I know the rules. I scan the tables for him and spot him in the back with piles of books and papers spread on the desk. Heart fluttering, my eyes trail his length. His blond hair stands out like the sun creating a halo. Slim but buff, bent over a piece of parchment, brows knitted together, I couldn't help stare at the chiselled cheek bones, the curve of his jaw and short but narrow nose (as handsome as his parents). A pleasant sigh heaved between my lips; taking care not to trip over bags or step on papers of others, I shorten the distance between us.

Once close, I clear my throat. "Scorpious." A thrill enters me as I say his name.

He looks up; a hint of a smile touches his lips. "Rose."

I can't stop the thrum of my heart and pounding in my ears as my eyes catch his. He is going to say it. He likes me. Why else would he call me up here? Obviously he doesn't want to be interrupted that's why he chose this secluded corner to confess.

"I like you, really like you."

See, what did I tell you.

"How do I tell her?"

Stomach dropping, I clutch my robes hoping the descent of my heart to the ground isn't real. Surely he can't be talking about someone else. That's not right. It's supposed to be me. I drown the rest of his response, my mind caving in on itself. How could this be? I was making the right advances. I expressed clearly how I felt. We even went out. Did I take his interest to mean something else? No – he said he liked me, said he wanted to do this again. Perhaps he meant as friends. No definitely more.

"...Your friends with her, you have to help me. Every time I try to say or ask something she runs away. It's frustrating." As if to prove his point, he scrubs a hand through his blond locks. Itching to touch them, I clench my hands to fists.

Swallowing, I ask, "Who-who are you talking about?" I choke out.

He laughs, "Olivia. Weren't you listening?"

No, no. I shake my head. That's crazy. She's the one that helped me through a rough patch, the one that held my hand when I cried, and the one that reassured me that everything was going to be alright. I believed her. I believed every word. I thought she was my friend.

"Maybe she doesn't like you." Icy coldness travels through my veins, freezing the blood and emptying the warmth. My voice is half- imploring half- questioning, it can't be true.

He looks to me and slowly shakes his head. "No, I'm sure of it. I've seen the way she looks at me. She's just playing hard to get." He snorts, amusement glittering in the haze of his eyes.

He doesn't care. Doesn't he realise how I want him, how much I like him. I'm going to kill her! She doesn't deserve him. How dare she take him away from me? Mist covers my eyes as the sting of tears threatens to fall. I smile falsely. "I'm sorry, I can't help you."

Taken aback, he leans forward to take my hand. I jerk back pulling my arm out of reach. A frown pinching his cheeks he says, "What's wrong?"

My feet drag me backwards and I repeat my words back to him. "I can't help you, Scorpious."

The pinch in his cheek deepens.

He doesn't realise…doesn't know… He attempts to grab a hold of me but I'm already storming out the library. His shouts are faraway. "Rose! Rose! Rose..."

The tears gush; I let them soak my robes. Every feeling I supressed, I let it out. More tears pouring, pooling the front of my robes. The ground is blurry as I race across the hall. My heart bruised and shattered, ripped off chink by chink. My whole world reins in chaos.

Desire is a stalking predator that waits when you are least vulnerable to pounce until your left leaking and drained.