So Close To

-

He ran.

He ran as if he couldn't stop. He wouldn't stop.

Cold whipped around his entire body, encasing his flesh in ice and clouding his eyes with his breath. Ice filled his lungs and his head and his eyes and it was cold.

He was running.

He didn't know why.

-

"I hate you."

"I know..."

"I despise you."

"I know."

"I'm going to kill you."

"I know."

-

His head was spinning. His heart was pounding. His legs were still running but he wasn't moving.

He stared into the bowl of pure white, his skin only a few shades darker than the porcelian. He stared at his murky reflection in the water and he drank in his cold eyes and it settled in his stomach, turned over and came back up and-

He lurched and his mouth spilled out memories and emotions and unspoken words and a nothing that could have been something.

-

Nothing is as it seems.

-

"I think you should avoid him."

"I know."

"He's nothing but trouble... I mean look at you! You look awful."

"Do I?"

"Yes, you do, so avoid him from now on, okay? Do it for me?"

"We'll see."

Lips pursed.

"Harry... he isn't like that."

-

Everytime was different.

This time it was rough. Hard. Angry. Almost hateful.

His hands were braced against the wall, trying to prevent his blond head from impact. His elbows were starting to give and his knees were almost touching his shoulders.

Everytime was different.

-

He isn't like that.

-

"I hate you."

"I understand."

"I'm going to kill you."

A fleeting spark.

"Now."

He spoke quickly, tongue dancing over his words like something else. It could have been.

Because you can't start a fire without a spark.

There was a movement in green.

And he woke.

-

You would think his flesh cold. But the warmest fire is pale.

-

"You don't understand me."

"Maybe I don't."

"Leave me alone."

A plea.

Soft-spoken words.

"Only if you stop coming to me."

-

"Do you know what love is?"

"Funny question."

"Yes."

"It is what you make it... I suppose."

"Thank you."

She looked up from her essay and smiled.

"Of course."

-

Love potions are stupid.

-

A quick breath. Many. Maybe five. And a missed one.

"I think we should stop."

"Right..."

But they were so close.

-

"I think you were wrong."

"About what?"

"Him."

A scowl? Or a snort. Maybe both.

"Tch. Only you would say that."

Close.

"Perhaps."

-

It was different again.

This time was slow. Deliberate. Hesitant. Far away.

One leg was up, another being bruised by a seemingly gentle hand. He lost his arms a while ago. They had both lost themselves a while ago.

Maybe even before that.

-

No matter how far you walk, the train tracks will never touch. Only a hand could do that.

-

"Were you waiting long?"

It was raining slightly.

"No..."

"Good."

Rain. Grey puddles formed at his feet.

"Do you ever wonder what we're doing here? Why... why we ended up like this. Do you know?"

The rain hammered down. Clothes stuck to skin. The cold seemed to seep through flesh.

"I love you."

It was easier for him to say than he thought.

A silver glance, downed by the rain.

"I love you."

He repeats.

-

Love is what you make it. And so he did.

-

He wasn't quite there.

But one step forward is better than two steps back. It was closer.

He wasn't quite sure what he was closer to, but it felt right.

-

So close to...

-

Yeah.

I don't know what that was. Oh well.

Review please.

I'm so lonely. Don't make me kiss your shoes to make you do it. How hard can it be?