A/N: This is what happens when I'm bored… read & review!
Disclaimer: I really wish I owned these characters, but sadly, I don't!
A Sickness Of The Heart
She sat outside his house, peering through a large window, safely hidden by a cloak of invisibility, surreptitiously stalking him. She had done so for months, ever since that unspeakable night. He always seemed so happy. She wondered how he had gotten over it so quick. Had it meant anything to him? Anything at all?
Her heart ached for him. When she saw him she wanted to die in the best and most terrible of ways. He smiled and her heart skipped a beat. It was as though she had stepped out of a windowless room on a bright summer's day. At first she was blinded by the beauty, but then the light faded and the pain came. It was excruciating, it engulfed her and she broke down once again.
She collapsed on the wet grass and sobbed. She told herself she should be over him by now. She should stop coming here, she was unwanted. But, she couldn't force herself to give this up. It seemed as though it was the only thing she had to live for anymore. She had burned all the bridges she had ever built on that wonderful night it all began. It was a shame that with her only source of happiness came such agony.
Why did she do this to herself? It was for that one second of pure bliss. When his smile warmed her heart and it was just like old times. But things would never be the same again.
What she didn't know is that he felt the exact same way, he just had a better way of hiding it. He felt as though he had stopped breathing yet kept on living, if you could call it that. His heart had surely been torn out. The only way he knew he was alive was the ache that he felt.
He told himself it was for her safety, she would surely die if a fellow death eater or Voldemort discovered their clandestine affairs. So he had severed the tie, he cut her out of his life and told himself it was for the best. He saw her pain and it just added to his own. But still everyday he put on his mask.
Only at night could he even spare a thought on his most selfish of fantasies, she haunted his dreams. He dreamt of a better time when they could openly be together, forever. He swore to himself that one day it would become his reality, one day he would breathe easy and his heart would be returned to its rightful place, but for now he would just have to pretend that he was fine.
They were just two more casualties of this war, just two more of Voldemort's victims. But, they suffered the worst fate. Not death, they were not so lucky. They silently grieved, mourned for their true love. If you asked either of them they would tell you that their poor, sick hearts caused them more misery than any spell, sword, or gun ever could.
FIN
A/N: Go ahead, tell me how stupid & cliché you thought it was! ; )
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