Hey. Me again. This time it's a SnapeLily onesided pairing, with a microscopic JamesLily at one point. I know it doesn't sound very Snape but keep in mind, this is during his Hogwarts years and most of it is going on in his head. A version of what I would think the thoughts that are running through his mind, I've always seen a tormented sort of train of thought coming from under Snape's cool exterior. Oh and the title came from a line in 'The A Team' by Ed Sheeran, excellent song. And that I just HAD to use the line near the end, I just HAD to.

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It hurt. It hurt so bad that it felt as if somebody was ripping his heart out from his chest. Like he couldn't breathe, every breath felt like he was inhaling knives into his lungs. Tears stung his eyes for the hundredth time and he furiously wiped at them, his eyes rubbed raw, red circles lining them. He wouldn't cry. He couldn't. He was better than that. But what could he do? He felt like the entire world had collapsed on him. No not the entire world, his entire world.

Lily.

That one word had so much power over him. He would gladly do anything, absolutely anything for her. He would give up his life if she asked for it. She was everything. Everything. He had built his whole world around her; she was the reason why he breathed, why he got up every morning. But why was it that his reason for breathing was the reason why he couldn't right now? That the mere thought of her felt like somebody held his heart in a cold vice-like grip. His blood was running cold; the pounding in his ears hadn't stopped.

Would he scream? Would he cry? He wondered vaguely if any of those things will cause him to stop feeling the pain. He wanted to feel numb. He wanted to reach inside him, rip his heart out himself so he wouldn't feel anything anymore.

He closed his eyes. Green. That was the only thing he could see, her bright green eyes staring back up at him. Her vivid smile, her fiery red hair. How was it that even after what she did, he could do nothing but wonder at her? Like some sort of pagan who worshipped after a goddess, he was powerless. He couldn't do anything except marvel at her. She was out of his league, she was beyond his reach, like no matter how much he tried, no matter how much he tried to reach out, he couldn't. It was frustrating. It was like trying to reach out to the sun, he'd get burned beyond repair but it didn't matter, at least he was getting close, or that was what he told himself every time he got burned. He was absolutely useless; she would never smile for him like she did for Potter.

This was it. This was where it all ends up, doesn't it? He'd be here, waiting for her every time she had a problem with Potter or anything else, she'd smile at him like she means it, but he knows otherwise. He'd hold her hand every time she wants him to, he'd wipe away those tears from those green eyes of hers whenever she needs him to. He's never told her, he's kept it all in, and sadly, even if his heart was slowly dying on the inside, as long as he even gets the semblance of being close to her, he'll take it.

Because that's how the little moth lived, didn't it? It got closer and closer to the flame, despite the warnings from his mother, he flew closer. The light was blinding and so was she. He was enamored, she was his entire existence. He flew closer until his wings were singed, until the very breath of life was snatched away from him by the very reason why he breathed.

Because he'll be there for her. Because he'll always need her.

Because he'll love her.

Always.

And that was all he could do to stop himself from falling apart.