Top Cut
It should never be questioned, why you are where you are. The 'how I got here' or the 'it happened so suddenly it was all a blur' even if it is all interesting, wouldn't be worth commenting on. The truth of the matter is: you are where you are and you got where you got. That's me. I am where I am; outside his door, walking the other direction. It doesn't matter how I got to the door before walking in, or even so much why I'm walking out, but that I was there at all and what I did there. Neither the end nor the beginning should dictate you're life. They might feel like the significant seaways, beginnings and ends, births and deaths but what truly matters is how you lived, what truly is significant is what you actually did with your time. What is important is the middle of the sandwich; and let me tell you, it was delicious.
So I started with the end, let's get on to the middle and the beginning? Hell, it's not even worth talking about.
We stood in the rain my eyes looking straight at him and his eyes looking at me for the first time, not just at me but into my eyes. My hair was caked to the sides of my face and to my neck and through my shirt to my back. Droplets of rain were trickling down my cheek, down my neck and disappearing into the neckline of my shirt and at the same time beating into my eyes, making me squint. Things were blurry; but not him. He looked worse. His face was pink and his clothes sticking to him, his hair was a mess, he looked like a wet cat—repulsed with the world and upset to be in it. By he looked worse I meant a hundred times better.
"Let's go in Malfoy." Then there was silence, I almost thought he didn't hear me but he kept staring at me, all haughty like.
"Why?"
I felt like yelling at him, the sound of the rain wasn't that loud but I still wanted to be above it, so I just spoke loudly which made me sound like an ass in my ears.
"You're getting a little wet there my friend."
He kept staring at me, and answered in a reasonably volumed voice.
"So, do you mind?"
Droplets of water kept hitting me in the face, stinging my eyes and making it more and more difficult to see. The downpour was getting so heavy Malfoy's face was getting lost even though it was a mere 5 feet before me—it's not as if it was some Hawaiian summer rain, the water was cold as shit and had long past soaked through my clothing.
"No," I said loudly "I don't mind."
He smirked at me.
"Good." he walked toward me, grabbed my hand and we started to walk together.
We walked and we walked, down streets, around corners and the more we walked the more numb I got. The more my fingers lost feeling the more I started to smile. The rain was behind me now; I wasn't squinting to see and Malfoy was right beside me, his face and every drop of rain perfectly visible. A bubble of laughter ebbed at my throat. Like the tide it kept coming closer and I kept suppressing it, until finally it washed over me and I threw back my head and laughed. I laughed so hard I had to cling on to him to keep from being a heap on the wet muddy road. I laughed and I clung and when I didn't feel like clinging anymore I threw my arms back and spun. The rain was ice cold and burned it was so cold; but it felt beautiful.
He just grabbed my hand and put his arm on my waist
"You going waltz with me Malfoy?"
He just grinned and I put my arm on his shoulder and we laughed, we didn't move or dance but held position and laughed.
His hand started to slip from mine and I just held it tighter and looked him in the eye.
"Just stay a little longer Malfoy, the worlds in for the afternoon avoiding the horrid weather, they won't miss you."
He grinned and let go of my waist but held onto my hand hard and with a pop apparated us both away.
There you have it the end to the middle to the end. It might seem pointless or base, or even pathetic and shallow. But here's the thing. When I die I want the sum of the events in my life to mean something and more than that, I want the sum of my regrets to mean less. A beautiful, unexciting but extraordinary experience none the less; these are the ones that get told of far too little and are forgotten far too much. This is for those who never realize who never think on or care about them, who view them as could-have-been's and what-if's and oh-god-thank-god-I-didn't's. It was worth it, it's over, and it never went farther but it's the middle of the sandwich; so what if the bread doesn't taste sweet and like top cut.