White Roses
Summary: The vase fell, the flower falling with it, as she collapsed in a heap onto the floor.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that is Harry Potter related.
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White.
Pure.
Beautiful.
Graceful.
Elegant.
Timeless.
Perfect.
The vase falls off the dresser, shattering into pieces on the floor.
She slides down her door.
The flowers hit the glass; the petals scattered amongst the fragments.
She curls herself into a ball.
The roses lay on the ground, stiff and lifeless.
Tears stream down her creamy, white face, and her long, blonde hair covers her eyes. Her head drops into her hands, and her thoughts become distraught. Everything is turned upside-down. Her dreams her dead; her hopes have vanished.
She is faithless.
Her heart is gone, taken without permission. Her expression is real, and her depression is sinking in.
What do you do when everything is lost? What do you do when everything is in chaos? What do you do when he is gone?
Lifting her head up, she rests it against the door. Her world is disintegrating; her walls are caving in. Everything she once believed has flown out the window, and her spirit is broken.
Yet no one sees.
She is a very good actress. Her smiles are false, her eyes are blank, and her presence is seemingly unaffected.
She is perfect.
In truth, she is hollow, foreign inside. All because of one person, and all because of one sentence, four small words. Four words that shouldn't be so significant, yet they are.
I don't love you.
It isn't fair to have you heart smashed. It isn't right to feel nothing and everything all at once. It isn't rational to care any longer.
But then again, since when was love fair, right, or rational?
I don't remember you.
She knows he will forget her one day. It is her greatest fear, and the part that scares her the most, is the fact that it has already come to pass; he has forgotten.
I don't care anymore.
She will try to tell herself every day that she doesn't want him, that she doesn't need him, that she doesn't love him. In the end though, she will fall, that is if she hasn't already. She will admit she still does, and cry for a long time, and even then it will not be over.
They won't be over.
Wiping away that tears that had refused to descend, she stood up, using the door for support. Stepping warily, she crossed the floor, and picked up the fallen rose, the rose he had given her.
Rushing out of the room, she headed down towards the Great Lake. Everyone else was at Hogsmeade, so there was a good chance no one would see her.
When she got there, she stood by the edge of the lake. Casting a despairing look at the white flower, she fingered it for a moment, then tossed it into the water.
She watched as the rose hit the lakes' surface; it's petal spread out across the top. For a moment it seemed time stopped. Rain began to fall, dripping onto of her head, and clothes, but she didn't care, her eyes remained on the white rose.
After what seemed like years, the flower dropped under the water, sinking below the depths.
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"Happy Birthday, Cissa," he said, handing her the rose.
"Thank you Severus," she replied, taking it from him, "That was very sweet."
"It reminded me of you," he stated, "Ideal and wholesome."
Narcissa just smiled.
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"I don't love you Narcissa," Severus told her gently, running an hand across her cheek.
Narcissa smiled sadly, and pulled away, making sure her hair covered her eyes. She turned on her heel, and walked away, slowly letting the tears drop.
"I won't remember you," she whispered, even though she knew she was lying, "I won't care anymore either."
"Forgive me, Narcissa," Snape murmured quietly, watching her with rueful eyes.
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White.
Pure.
Beautiful.
Graceful.
Elegant.
Timeless.
Perfect.
Just like she was.
xxx
Author's Note - I don't know where this came from. Something I just thought up one day. Hope you all enjoyed it. Please review and let me know your thoughts.
