Orokid: Well, it seems that I do have some good news for you all (although I doubt that everyone will truly care about it)- I think my Writer's Block has been destroyed and is laying as a pile of rubble within my head onto to be built again by those stupid plot rabbits… So, that's a really good thing, don't you all think?! I can FINALLY write again with confidence and not force half of my work down on a page. I actually wrote this without much trouble, although (like everything I write) I didn't have that good an idea about what I was writing about…
So… yeah. It's over and done with, and I hope you guys like this, despite the fact that it isn't very long.
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or even the plot for it. This is just a picturesque idea that I've built in my head for what might happen if the wishes of Pumpkin Pie shippers all over the world are left unanswered. There isn't even much of a plot to this, so I don't own that… Do I even own my mind? Dunno, but that is up for speculation- I'll ask my mom later about that.
On with the story, right? ((GRINS HUGELY))
He Swore
He sat alone, his head between his knees as he tried his best not to think of everything and nothing at once. His thoughts couldn't exist of things that had been lost in time, things that had slipped through the very tips of his fingers on a very typical day. He swore to himself not to ponder about that one that could kill him with a single tear unshed in her eye, and revive him just as easily with a brilliant hundred watt smile.
He had sworn, but he had been unable to forget so easily just how she'd stare into the distance whenever the subject of HIM came involved, or when she'd give that far off smile afterwards, pretending that all was alright.
As much as she wouldn't admit to it, he knew that the mere existence of HIM killed her on the inside, and he knew that she did not fear her life like she feared for everyone else's. Especially his, although he didn't want to admit to himself that someone might actually care about whether he lived or breathed on his own. He had been used to every and all witch and wizard concentrating on his life so that he may save theirs. It had been awkward for him to finally believe that someone wanted him as more than a savoir, more than what he had been taught to be ever since he had joined the world he had been forced from as a boy.
But… she didn't want him to be more than a friend.
He could still remember clearly that day so long ago, when his world had fallen apart and come together at once.
His body had been beaten and his skin- well, most of it anyway- had been turning purple with every step that he took away from the battle zone. His glasses had been seemingly lost ages ago, probably broken and obsolete right then anyway so he didn't mind it at all, and he doubted to himself that he'd ever find them in the weaving path of destruction. His heart, however, still did beat strongly within his chest, whether it be bruised and broken or not, and it throbbed within him as he inched ever closer to her, the one he had planned to tell his true feelings to ever since he had jumped into the never ending battle.
When he had gotten out the words though, all seemed to have been in vain by the way she seemed to look at him. Betrayal and hurt, as well as an another emotion which he could not name (although he could merely assume it to be sorrow more than anything else), had crossed her face before she could even answer him, and he knew immediately that, after all of his years of dilly-dallying, he had lost his chance with her, the one whom he couldn't stop thinking of in the hours of midnight. He had lost endless moments, time which could not be replaced, all because he had tried to protect her, tried to keep that line drawn between them when all he wished to do was cross it himself over those many years they had spent together as the closest of friends.
He remembered how he had pushed his affections off onto another girl whom adored his every being, just so he might not be tempted to cross the line. He had wanted to every moment of every waking day while they walked the halls of their school, but his stubbornness had kept him clear from her. It had been just so that she wouldn't find the same end as his parents had when he had been just a baby, unable to do a thing except cry. Still…
He had been in pain when she had whispered the words "I'm sorry" to him, more pain than he had ever experience in his entire being. One might think that having your body beaten to a pulp over and over again, an endless torture that had lasted several days so that the male might attempt to torture another before the boy, before the one who would kill him if all means came to an abrupt end. To say that those experiences within the stronghold of his enemy's lair, those hours he had spent screaming and crying endlessly until his throat became to raw and his eyes too dry and bloodshot, had been worse would make him laugh. No one could truly understand how it felt to have your heart ripped to shreds, only to have it stomped upon by two single syllables that he despised more than one could ever understand, could only be understood by those who knew what love felt like.
And, no matter what anyone might say, it really had been love. No. It had been more than just love.
As he had been told by one of the girls that had fancied him while he had been school going (although he couldn't see her face within his very tainted memories now, after the months of booze took effect on his mind), a regular love could be gotten over with in two days or less. A 'good love', as she had named it, took around the stretch of two months- or a little bit longer, depending upon the time they had spent 'loving' one another. And a 'great love'…
Well, one couldn't ever get over that kind. And he knew now, after she had become sand in the hands of a child at the beach, the one he had lost had been just that- a 'great love' whom he'd never get back. HIS great love, lost along with everyone else that had felt even a tad bit of something, of LOVE, for him…
His head passed his knees, his forehead sinking past his knees as he felt tears well up within those formerly dry sockets, and it didn't take much longer for him to feel that water flow over past those slightly tanned cliffs of skin that held his emerald orbs back inside his body. A sob overtook him, and he found an inability within to stop the tears, to stop the heartache from engulfing him completely.
There, in the room above the school's entrance and exit to the next town over, he allowed his heart to be consumed with the pain he felt, his body to expel the unnecessary emotions that some thought he needed. He swore to himself to stop thinking about her, to stop thinking about his rejection by his very own best mate. He swore to himself that he would be better tomorrow, would be able to control his bodily reactions whenever she was nearby him.
He had sworn, but he had been unable to forget so easily how he couldn't stop himself just like that…
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Orokid: So… yeah. That's about it, really. Just some angst (which I seem to be permanently stuck upon as a story subject, right along with romance and drama) that I thought up when I was at dinner today, around five thirty to six o'clock PM, sitting at The Crab Cooker at the beach. I wrote the first part on the back of a postcard, so all of you can guess how many supplies I had with me at the time… Yeah- I had been pretty much dragged there, since I don't care for the beach as anything but to look at, but I didn't mind. As long as I didn't have to go in the Artic temperature water…
Anyway…
Won't you all PLEEEEEEEASE review my fanfic?! ((Gives puppy dog eyes and bottom lip trembles pitifully)) P-Please? I'll be your bestest friend…