Word Count: 286 (sorry Alarice-Tey, just a few over!)
Challenge/Competition: Drabble Collection Challenge, Drabble-athon Challenge
Prompts: Disturbing relationship, sob, Lily Luna/Scorpius, broken glass
Warnings: Implications of a disturbing relationship.
Disclaimer: I don't claim to own Harry Potter, it's all JKR's.
Note: I admit this may seem confusing, but confusing seems to be my thing at the moment. I'm enjoying writing things with lots of meanings, that are open to interpretation. So give this a chance, I hope you all enjoy.
This is a drabble collection, of completely unrelated things.
Lily Luna/Scorpius - Trapped
The shards are scattered on the floor – glass, yes, but everything else, too.
They are irreparable, just like the mess around them.
The red-haired girl casts her glittering green eyes across the room to the man she came to love against all odds, to the man that she still loves, to the man that will always betray her.
Hope.
Hope flickers inside of her, like a fly that's not quite dead.
She'll know… she'll see it in his eyes and she'll know if he's in there somewhere.
"I didn't mean to hurt you, Lily," He says, all too maniacally, his head buried deep in his hands.
And now she knows that he knows – his eyes, they're his giveaway, there's no faking the truth, no calling his bluff.
The red liquid is suddenly not so delicate, not so poetic, not so metaphorical and it's not as if she can pretend that he doesn't hurt her any more. Slowly and deliberately, she closes her eyes. This is not what she wanted.
Duplicity. Betrayal. Endings. She's becoming her own worst nightmare.
A strangled sob comes from the other side of the trashed room, yet she can't bring herself to look.
He cannot be saved. They cannot be saved.
"Lils, please, this isn't me," He pleads, so desperately that it hurts her.
That feeling returns – he's drawing her in, he's an abyss, a maze, a labyrinth… yet he's an escape, she wants nothing else. It's Lily and Scorpius and nothing else in the world matters.
Even when she's broken and bleeding on the floor of his house, her house, their house – it seems like it's all one big metaphor for the mess that is them.
Yet those grey eyes… those dead, grey eyes.
They trap her.
A/N- Okay so maybe I've started a new drabble collection, but I'm not abandoning anything else. My muse is rather jumpy at the moment, so I take what it gives me (although apparently it likes bothering me at 2am!). Please, favourite and alert, but not without a review - reviews keep me going and I love to interact with you all!