Title: Complications
Disclaimer: I'm not as awesome as J.K. Rowling, and, therefore, did not come up with this story's characters, as they are all canon.
Rating: T/PG-13 for language and implied humor.
Summary: Life shouldn't be about love, finding your true soul mate, according to Sirius Black. Teenagers are too young to really know themselves, let alone whom they love, so he doesn't understand why everyone is so obsessed with that fluttery feeling that eventually goes away. To his great surprise, he is not alone in this belief. But when things turn down a road he's not ready to take, everything acquires a double meaning.
Complications
The latest Celestina Warbeck tune croons a ballad lamenting an unrequited love as couples, dotted around the room, snog the living daylights out of their partner, the professed love of their lives. Arms entangle with passion, backs arch with pleasure, eyes twinkle with joy, cheeks flush with delight, and lips swell in both ecstasy and pain from such an ardent kiss. Hair is mussed but no girl pays any mind to that minor detail. Lips are smudged with the shiny gloss of another, but the gents in the room have not even noticed. The fireplace even lets out a crackle from the heat that emits from every pair as they publicly proclaim that they belong to another, and happily so.
My lips twist into a satirical grin as I contain the plethora of condescending remarks I could make at the expense of these puppets of society. My best mates, however, constantly cast jealous glances at the various couples as they attempt to keep their minds on the subject at hand: Quidditch. Peter's light blue eyes keep lingering upon the back of a girl who is already quite preoccupied with one of the Gryffindor chasers, and his eyes twinge with pain. Remus is trying very hard, I can tell, but his discipline breaks and he takes a quick glance at a couple that is studying at one of the tables, their hands linked in a statement of devotion as they pour over their combined textbooks. James doesn't even attempt to mask whom he is gawking at, for anyone could guess: Lily Evans, who, unlike everyone else, isn't accompanied by a partner. She is reading a book whose title I cannot read, her legs tucked comfortably underneath her as she rearranges herself upon the maroon and gold armchair. Her fiery red hair continuously sways over her face, like a curtain, and she angrily swipes it back so as to continue her story.
James tenses as Frank Longbottom, another gent in our year, swaggers up to her chair, leans against the arm with all the air of one who is too overconfident, and strikes up a conversation. Lily does not look up, and only answers his inquiries with the shortest phrases possible. Longbottom is aggravated, I can tell, for his face begins to turn the slightest shade of red. His mouth twisting and contorting, he kneels down to look into her eyes, places his right hand on her left knee, and whispers something in her ear. She freezes and lifts her gaze to look into his eyes.
And then she picks up her book and slams it into the side of his head with all the force of the Hogwarts Express. As he clutches his ear and gapes, she reopens her hardback to where she had left off, and continues her read. I let out a bark of mirth, for I can read the title now: Dueling: Self-Defense Through the Ages. Lily looks up from the text at my loud laugh, and catches my eye before flashing a self-conscious smile. And then she continues to read. Shaking my head in disbelief, I turn back to my friends, all of whom have very odd expressions on as they examine me.
"What?" I ask, looking down at myself. With a crooked smile I jest, "Did I spill something on my robes, or are you guys just checking me out?"
Peter emits a small chuckle and quickly glances away; Remus lets out a snort of amusement. James looses a string of laughter then peeks at Lily to see if she'd noticed that he was having so much fun. She hadn't.
I sigh, exasperated. Everyone seems so focused on love. It seems like it's their soul existence. Why do people care so much? We're only sixteen. Are we really ready to make that decision yet? Why can't we simply live uncluttered lives, free of every complication? Alas, it seems impossible for the average teenager.
My mouth twists into a frown, but no one notices, for they are too focused on members of the other gender, even my best mates. Peter's jaw quivers as he stares at the brunette snogging the Gryffindor chaser; Remus's jaw clenches as his eyes flicker from his lap, to the couple 'studying', and back to his lap; James gazes longingly at the reading Lily. I stand up abruptly, and it seems like a part of me has just died from this epiphany.
"Well, I'm going to head up to bed," I fake exhaustion and stretch my arms convincingly. "Good night everyone." I only receive waves in response, and I tromp up the stairs shaking my head in despair.
Can no one else escape the clutches of shallow love?