To Drive a Witch up the Wall
It seemed an ordinary thing, a natural thing, that all people did even though she knew they did not. Not one could do this to her without receiving a most ill-fated blow, both physically and emotionally. Not one, except this one.
He made her smile, reluctant though it was at first. Her lips held a misplaced opposition to all of the opposite gender. Smiles for a man were weakness in nature; it was not right to bend your high-willed fortitude. And yet, her lips had a mind of their own. They grinned even when she did not desire it. How it infuriated her.
She let go one day… what else could be the explanation? One does not fall a great height without deciding that the ground is not as grand as it appears. And so she fell a great height and the earth that once stood so definably beneath her feet was missed dearly. The wind beneath her arms was exhilarating as she soared, but the loss of the conscious force to staunch the flow of undesirable emotions frightened her. Because she was not in control of her emotions concerning one man, did this make her weak? She dared not contemplate it.
And yet, she convinced herself that this separate world in which she inhabited during her sleeping hours did not exist at all during the summer months when they breathed apart-- so very far apart. She took up her residence far away in the distant hills of her beloved Scotland. He remained where she placed her heart decades before… She knew this. She sought to forget this. But forget it she could not.
They wrote during that separation. They were friends. Almost upon the end of the month of August, she convinced herself every year that what they shared was nothing more than a deep friendship. Then she saw him again as he called the staff to his side to discuss the new year. And there he was again. The insufferable wart.
He appeared again even as she tried to freeze her emotions into that impenetrable façade she wore during the school year. Somehow, he had the key to melt it. Why did he know her secret? How was it that he was the only man who had the flaming torch to melt the ice into a mere insignificant puddle of water?
Growing irritated at herself or him did nothing to change anything. He continued on in his absent-minded waltz, and she waited for him to show her any sign of what could possibly lead to hopeful advances. Her advances were so subtle, however, that he failed to see them for what they were. And Albus danced upon her heart, without a clue to what he was doing. Simply being himself was enough to drive her mad. And Albus danced upon her heart, without showing that he would stop anytime soon.
And so she drowned, the broken remnants of her façade around her in that great river of all the tears she had shed and among the hundreds of times he had melted her icy heart. It was not long for her to wait for Albus to bring her back out into the glorious sunshine again to dry her off as he remained himself. She found value in life again, despite her 'small' quandary and was convinced that he did not need to give her anything for her to feel complete. The fact that he lingered near to her was enough… to drive her mad. Mad with desire, mad with hope, mad with love and adoration. She was crazy, she admitted it at last, and received no solace whatsoever from her insufferable heart. "Together, we would make a good pair," she mused acidly one evening after he had brought her up to her rooms, "we are both mad."
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A/N: Something that I just had to write after playing sims late late late one night over a week ago... Hope you all enjoy! :D
