rating: PG for character death and slight slash
pairing: it's supposed to be Harry/Draco, but it could be anything. AU.
notes: written in about five minutes. don't read if you don't like slash. i actually creeped myself out writing this. it was so easy, too. guess it's just the mood i'm in.
xx
All I have to live for, all I have to think about, all I ever dream of is you.
I see your eyes, their images etched into my eyelids and I can't look away; not now or ever. I clutch my sheets, my pillow, and all I ever think about is the softness of your silky black hair. I want you so much it hurts, it hurts, do you understand? Why can't you notice me? Why can't you love me?
I hate it when I'm ignored, most of all by you. I've become as bland as my coloring—my pale skin no longer glows, as it used to, and is instead as white as paper. My eyes are dull. My hair, once my pride and joy—lifeless.
You did this to me.
How strange to live in a world in which people may fall in love with individuals they hardly know. Celebrities: musicians, writers, actors, artists. So many, so few. Their names, blazing in light, their faces illuminating our streets. It's no wonder so many people dream of them; they haunt our waking hours, and it's only fitting they intrude our sleep as well.
That poor girl—did you hear? So in love with that useless pretty boy. Not as bad as others, come to think of it. I still remember the anguished look on his face when he found her suicide note, and on his doorstep, no less. Lots of publicity. Lots of good press—and I'm sure a lot of his albums were sold that month. All he did was cry, that whole year, and you know what? He came out with a song, just for her. How sweet. I think I can sort of see, now, what it was she saw in him, even if they'd never even met. That kind of knowing, I think, is like the difference between watching that ridiculous black box you call television, and reading. There's a choice when it comes to reading, as it is with getting to know someone from afar.
Fairy tales.
I never liked them, you know; yet here I am. In love with you. Your voice, your laugh, your smile—god, I love your smile. I would do anything to be yours, and you mine. Anything.
It's funny, I think I've gotten to know that girl a lot better. Better even than I know most other people, and we've never even met. She's ten years younger. I feel exactly as she did: tucking herself into a replica of his trademark hoodie, three sizes too big and for boys. She loved that stupid old thing. It made her feel protected, I remember the newspaper quoting.
Guess what? I have something of yours, too. The genuine article: and so useful, too, this Invisibility Cloak.
It's so easy to place my final farewell on your pillow. The whole world will see it, but it was written with you in mind.
xx
