He made me feel like every smile was a waste. Like I spent a thousand thoughts on nothing.
He showed at my door the moment that he heard that I'm back from France. I must admit, I was not expecting him, but deep inside I was hoping that he would come to me. That he'll care. That he cares.
It was raining outside. When I opened the door, the sight of wet jet – black hair startled me. He was leaning against my wall, his arms crossed on his chest. All he needed was one look. With one look, my world crumbled, and all the things that I wanted to say to him wanished from my mind. One poor, almost undetectable 'Hi' came from my mouth.
He just looked at me, 'I want you back.'
'I would not like that at all.' He tried to come in, but I pushed him back. When my hand came into contact with his warm skin a surge of electricity ran trough me. You don't want this, Jill, you know you don't. He was getting angry now. I could see it. He was always like an open book, too easy to read. But sometimes you just didn't want to know what is written .
'When did you become this angry bitter person? When did you break, who broke you? You can't stand seeing another person's smile, you can't look at their happiness. What changed? You used to laugh all the time, you enjoyed people's company. We shared jokes, we did things together and you made me feel like I'm walking on the clouds. Those were the happiest days of my life. You never cared what another people talked about you, never listened. But then you started listening to them and stopped listening to the people that cared about you. You started having doubts about us, you thought I'm not worth it. And I probably wasn't, but that still doesn't give you the right to just run away, to abandon everything we built. I still want you, still need you. And trust me, honey, I'm not even sure why.' And I looked him in the eyes. He expected me to be sad, to be angry, to be broken. He hoped for it. 'Cause he can deal with sad or broken or angry. He always could. But I had nothing to show anymore.
I was empty.
'Do you really want to know? You really want to start with this? No, stop. It's too late now. You have no bloody idea why I left. Whole world does not revolve around you, you know? But, who broke me? You did. I can't, it's true. Because it fucking hurts, Albus. I should have started listening long time ago. You were never good enough? Don't fucking lie. You wouldn't even introduce me to your brother and sister. You wanted me to be a secret. And that's all I ever was. Your dirty little secret. You don't treat people who make you feel "like walking on the clouds" like that. I was always a reserve, never a real deal. Just one more trophy in the oh-so-big collection. You don't need me, never did. It's just lust, it'll go away,' I started closing the door, but he kicked it. He looked furious, like he was prepared to do anything. He started coming closer to me, and I backed away into the living room. I looked in his emerald green eyes that I once loved so much. The look in them was agonizing to watch.
'Don't you dare running away again, Jillian. We have to talk about this,' I was afraid of him. His emerald green eyes became blurry with anger. He is stronger than me, he could seriously hurt me if he wanted to. Every defence technique that I learned in Auror training expired from my brain. He would never hurt me, he can't hurt me repeated in my mind.
He looked at me and I saw the coldness in his eyes melting. He looked gentile, worried, 'Did I really hurt you that much?'
I became aware of the tears on my face. I nodded. He came one step closer to me, and I backed away against the wall.
'Damn, Jill, stop… I'm not going to hurt you physically, I could never…' he put his hand of my shoulder and I felt myself shudder. He backed away and started pulling his hair, 'I'm an idiot, I messed up again. I could have hurt you, you should be afraid, you should be disgusted! I'm disgusted of myself! I…' I came closer to him. I couldn't watch him like this. I slowly took his hand in mine.
Something in him snapped.
He carefully wrapped his arms around me and then I felt safer than I had in long, long time. He is still my Al, he loves me. He could never hurt me, he'll protect me from everything. Every single emotion came back and hit me with full force. My love for him, our connection, everything. I put my head on his chest and started sobbing. He held me even closer that he had before and started saying 'I love you' with sadness in his voice, like a little chant that we both knew, but somehow forgot.
Every wall I built since I came from France crumbled at his feet. Every suppressed emotion came to surface. I am broken, after all. And he could deal with that. 'Cause he could deal with broken or sad or angry. But he could never deal with empty.