I'll definitely miss you longer than I should. Longer than is healthy.
I'll miss lots of things about you, like that impish look you'd give me just before you'd hug me. I remember how your eyes would light up for a second, then darken with love. I'll miss your soft, wavy brown hair, the way it was so soft, and smelled so nice that some nights, I just couldn't keep away. I'll miss the way your hands would never simply ghost over my body, with or without clothes—it was always a firm, steadying grip.
And I'll miss the way you looked when you danced. The way your body moved with practiced grace, and your perfect outfit billowed and swept around you like it was made to sway to your movements. I'll miss how your amazingly sharp wit would catch me in the most unexpected moments and leave me with happy, light thoughts for days after. I'll miss how you could buffer any anger I threw at you. You'd never frown, never give up or walk away. You'd sit me on your lap and whisper that you loved me like there was no tomorrow, everyday, and you'd just hold me and rock me til I was calm.
I'll miss the way you made me feel . . . the inner squeal that would erupt inside of me every single time that you'd catch me in the hallways and wrap your arms around me from behind. I'll miss how smooth the skin around your chin would feel as I inhaled the thick, heady spice of your aftershave, and how soft it would feel under my lips, and of course, your inevitable giggle as I kissed your chin's most sensitive spot. I'll miss the way it felt to be held in your arms, where we'd sometimes just stand in those hallways and wish that we could be like that forever on those rainy days where everything was cold and gray. Now, I can't stand rainy days—too much gray, like your eyes, and I'd miss your company even more. I'll miss the way your strong arms would feel at my shoulder blades as you held me and rested your cheek on my hair, and I can still imagine up until now the sentimental look that would cross your features when I hugged you tight.
That's really what I'll miss more than anything and everything else: your hugs. I miss how your perfume's ineffable scent would waft out of your body each time I'd hug you, just like the pride you felt whenever I'd do it in front of everybody. I miss those lazy evenings during the rainy months where we'd sit together in the Great Hall with a merry fire crackling somewhere, and I could just stare at you and memorize your little quirks, like how you'd mess up your hair, partly because you were puzzled about something, but also partly because you knew I'd want to go fix it up again, which gave you an excuse to hug me. I never understood why, though—you hated having your hair messed up, and I'd hug you even if I didn't have an excuse to do so.
I really miss being able to watch you, so much so that I'd miss the embarrassed feeling I'd get whenever you caught me watching you. I remember how it would go each and every single time. You'd look up from whatever you were doing, and you'd ask me What? and I'd simply shake my head and give you what you described to be a God's-favor smile. But I'd never understand what you meant by a God's-favor smile, because only you could see it, and I didn't do it intentionally.
Not having those hugs hurts the most when I'm lying here in my bed during these unbearably nostalgic rainy afternoons, and I'd think I'm over you, I'd tell myself that I had moved on, but I'd feel tears well up and out of my eyes. I'd dab them away, of course.
Ron told me that ever since you died, I'd always sleep on the left side of my bed, facing the wall it was propped up against, and there would be a large space on the right side. I hadn't noticed myself consciously doing this though, but I do remember thinking of something like leaving it for you. Guess I got too accustomed to doing that with you, huh? No one understands, because I'm lying on this bed with all this love in my heart, but your face is blurring away and that scares me. I feel like I've been letting you go too fast. Cedric, you don't know what it's like to be lying straight on my bed, trying to remember everything we used to do together because they're the only things that are keeping me together and keeping me going during these times. It's always this much easier to remember how you sliding into the bed and resting your chin somewhere on my shoulder and neck from behind feels when I'm in that position, but it's that much more disappointing when you never come.
I can't help it, Ced. I was head-over-heels in love, and I'm so mired in this disbelief that sometimes, I can actually draw myself into the memories where you're still there and we'd lay out in that damned courtyard outside and stretch out on the grass. I would go there and roll around in the memories but this rain won't go away and neither will your soft hands and warm body.
Oh, and the dreams. Cedric, you wouldn't believe the dreams. I'd have such a vivid dream that I swear, sometimes, I could feel you there, smell your scent, feel the shape of your warm chest under the cashmere sweater I bought for you. I'd wake up and think of how I could spend the day and see that smile on your face again, but when I turn to my bedside table, spotting the album of memories I put together of what little time we had together, and it hits me in a blindingly painful flash that you're gone and I'm alone. I can't bear this cold weather anymore, waking up frigid in this bed; the comforter can't warm me up like you do—did, and that fading scent all over my pillow makes me want to pull you down from Heaven more than ever.
I pull that bloody album down onto my bed, leafing through the pages and see you smiling enthusiastically and happily at me, because you could spend it with me and nothing would get in our way during those chilly days before that last task. Then I realize what God's-favor is. God's-favor is when I see thousands of angels crying for you because they've lost one of their kind. It's when those smiles are everywhere and I run and realize I'm not going to forget you, even if I wanted to. It's when those rainy days I spend in these cold stone walls are warm with thoughts of you in my head. It's your face in the crook of my neck, the scent of your perfume, your soft hair, your enthralling manner, your love for me.
The rain hasn't stopped, but I'm in the courtyard, standing stronger than I look. I haven't got any tears in the rain, this time, because when I look up into that endless sea of clouds, I know that you're grinning that mischievous grin at me.
So lay me down, on the ground, and give me that God's-favor smile.