Lonely Sinking Feeling - 4/25/12
Sometimes, she hated him. That probably wasn't the best term to ascribe to a boyfriend, but it was the truth. She hated him, perhaps, because sometimes when he did something, it reminded her so starkly of herself, that she wanted to scream.
Sometimes, Hermione hated herself, too.
'Why can't you be happy?' he'd ask, in that calm even tone.
'It's not you,' she'd lie. Because they both knew it was him. The scar on his arm was enough of a reason for most people to hate him, but the deaths of those she'd cared for were doubly damning.
'Why can't you love me?' he'd ask, because she used to. She could have sworn she used to love him.
'It's not you,' she'd lie again, because the truth was too bitter to swallow. Because late at night, his leg pressed against hers as he slept, she knew without him, she'd be alone. And Hermione couldn't stand to be alone.
'Why can't you talk to me?' he'd ask, arms crossed defensively, waiting for the attack he knew was bound to happen.
She didn't bother answering, because they both knew what she'd say. So Draco packed his bag, took his toothbrush and the ugly rug in the bathroom she'd always hated, and he left. He left her. He had taken all he could and now he was gone.
And she was alone. So very alone.
A/N: hello, world. :)