She stood, entranced by the way he stood, the way he could look so good, and so dark in the same moment. She wasn't supposed to love him, she felt compelled to pretend love for another. The other was right for her, they said, they fit like two pieces of a puzzle she heard. But couldn't he be in a different part of it? She always wondered. No, she had to forget the man who stood before her, not question the other.
He turned towards her as she turned to leave. He didn't want her to go, nor did she. But she had to, she couldn't be here. This man didn't love her: he knew naught what love was. And yet, her feet dragged as she turned her back, not for the final time, to him.
Draco watched her turn, watched her gather herself and walk away without a word as she had a hundred times before. He fell into his memories, when she had been rushed to St. Mungo's for the second time from fighting in the war. She stood better chance of survival than she had the previous time.
He waited, impatiently in the waiting area, as he continued to try and reach the man she loved, or that she had then and there. Nothing. The stupid bastard didn't care, he had thought to himself, hating the bastard for using the woman he loved, and making her love the bastard. And yet he continued to try and reach the bastard she so dearly loved. And just as the Healer came towards him, the bastard appeared out of thin air, pretending to have been there the entire time. And he went to her, went to pretend he cared, to make her fall still harder for himself.
How Draco hated that man. And yet, he sat, letting him be with her, falling into a dream of making love to her, of holding her every second of the night, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, of watching her sleep, so peacefully, her body curved loving against his, if only that once. He didn't notice when the bastard came out to get him, to say she was fine. The bastard shook his shoulders, and Draco's blank stare suddenly filled with light. The bastard had smiled, telling him that she would be fine; he could go see her now. And as he smiled at her and reached for her hand she whispered…
Draco shook himself of the memory, not wanting to see the rest, not wanting to remember the pain he felt looking at her as she lay so fragile, as she spoke those horrid words. He sat and stared out into the setting sun again, trying to pry her from his thoughts, trying to stop watching where she had left. He tried to forget that she had even been there, a task that had taken years to master. He slowly began to shut out emotions, blocking them with his head, shoving his heart into a corner. Memories, his heart shoved into a corner so that they would escape from his head. The tears that he had never shed for her were swallowed back from his eyes again.
For hours he just sat out there, watching the waves slowly crash so harshly upon the rocky shores. He had thought many times of jumping, like he was now, but then his plans would fail as his barricades shattered into a million pieces. Her voice would ring in his ears as he recalled the very moment he realized he needed her with him, seven years prior to the exact date.
It had been a few days since he should have killed Dumbledore, days since he had fled from his home, from the Dark Lord. He stood looking down at the waves gently pulling from the rocky shores as if afraid they were going to hurt the water. The sun fell gently from the sky, preparing to rest, yellows turning orange, orange becoming red, red falling purple, and purple fading to blend with the blue sky itself. It was just another normal day for so many as he stood there, wishing it would be normal for him. But he would never have a normal day again, and this perfect moment, how would it be to see this beauty as his final picture, feel it as his final pulse, hear it as his final words, smell it as his final cologne, and taste it, taste it as his only food, his only breath, his only water. As he drank in the sight, felt the lure in his body, he slowly brought himself to his feet, believing it would be a much better end then he could ever hope for.
He spread his arms wide as he teetered on the edge, feeling so much alive as the wind whipped in his face, slowing his breath. His foot moved forward when he heard her voice. He swirled around, not expecting anyone here, for wouldn't they have ratted him out by now? And he looked her directly in the eyes, letting her see his pain, hoping she would understand why. And she did, but she didn't. She understood that he had nothing to hold him back anymore but she didn't understand why this was his happier choice, she had never been in his position. As he stared into the depths of her he knew she never would. And she whispered two words she would tell him time and time again, words that he would follow as he fell further, and as he stepped towards her he realized he was moving from one hell to another, and he lost the only chance he would have to jump into an ending, now he was falling into a never ending pit.
Her words rang in his ears yet again with each memory. He couldn't shake them from his head as he stared out across the painting he saw every year. On this day, he would come back, stare out across the veil between worlds, and so would she. He would stand as he had the first time, debating crossing into the unknown, and she would stop him as he started taking his final step. She would say the same words, breathe the same air, feel the same way as she had the first year. And his arms would fall to his sides, he would hold her gaze, watch her leave again, and collapse as pain suffocated him. He would think over a million times that he still had that chance to end it all, and as he would stand to try again her voice would ring out in his head. He would let it suffocate him forever as long as she spoke to him, even if it were only those words that cut across his heart, it told him she cared. Or atleast that she wasn't ready for another death, but no, he would hold onto the first, for that was his only reason. He could come any other day but he never did, nor did she, she knew him far too well. But she was the only one who would ever care; he would take a shaky breath as he tried to shove the thought of her being the only one who had ever.
He would love to take a gun to his gut, love to walk into his fathers home and feel the knife shove into his heart, love to stand in front of any Death Eater who had also escaped the confines of the torture of Azkaban, and willingly taunt them so they would give him the curse, send him into bliss, be it heaven or limbo, for he already stood in hell. But those thoughts would send him into the memory of her first trip to St. Mungo's four stab wounds and a gunshot to boot. But she still held strong.
He stared at her crumpled form, and without the slightest hesitance, he Disapparated from his father's home with her in his arms. He called out for help and instantly Healers surrounded him, took her from his arms. And he waited impatiently, without the bastard around him, around her. he knew the bastard would be the first one she would want to see, but he didn't care, he was too concerned with her state of being. What seemed like days later but could have only been hours, he was approached by the man who had stolen her from his hands. Draco didn't care that he was still covered in her blood, blood that was mixing with his own.
As he entered her sterile white room, she shifted towards him, a smile forming on her face, to cover immense pain. A smile that fell as soon as she realized that he wasn't her beloved bastard. She closed her eyes, but when she opened them, the chocolate brown that usually shone, gleamed with tears. She shook her head in silent prayed, hoping that she was dreaming. He gently looked her in the eyes as he stood right next to her, so broken beyond repair. He opened his mouth to tell her, to ask her, to say anything at all but she whispered those fragile words that seemed to rule his life. If only he could shatter them, he would win, he would have his dreams come true, the ones that let him keep falling. He slowly turned around, blinking back his own tears as he called for her beloved, who wasn't him, who would never be him. And yet he would keep trying, keep failing, keep falling.
He stood slowly, turning from the bliss full end he could have as he moved towards the park, a slow smile spreading across his face as the memories left him, stayed behind with the crashing waves, the million colors, the deadly rocks, the everything he had. He Disapparated away, as far away as he could imagine, at peace for the moment.
A year had passed and here he stood again, waiting for her as memories flooded him, only this time, he would not think of these old memories, but instead create new ones. Atleast he would know the truth of her.
He stood, watching the devastatingly beautiful view before, turning before she had spoken those three little words the sliced right through him. She stood frozen as he walked towards her, intending on meeting her. She would not speak the words right now, she couldn't.
Her heart beat faster as he stood just inches away from her. No, she had to remember the man she felt compelled to love, not the man who stood before her, the man she really loved. She had to remember the man that supposedly completed her. She couldn't tell the man that stood before her the real reason behind her rejection, she couldn't tell him she thought a simple touch would destroy everything she had worked so hard to build. Take down every wall, every lie and she would reveal the truth to him, to them all, and be shunned, be hated by all the others that she loved.
They stood still for only a moment longer before he pressed his lips to hers. She felt the simple shock run through her body. Her heart beat as though it were preparing to soar from her chest. And yet she lost herself in his kiss, lost herself in him as she responded to his kiss, his every loving touch. His hands wandered up her shirt sending shivers all over her body as she clung to his form. She had no doubt where they were going and she had no intent to stop him, to stop herself.
It seemed to take forever as he slowly discarded each of their clothing, taking in every detail of her figure, memorizing every feeling she had from every touch. She smiled so brightly up at him, so full of love, when she whispered those three little words, only this time she added another that sent him into a frenzy, and that simple added word caused him to pull her tight against him, showering her with kisses as he finally entered her, his dream come true at last.
And from that moment, from the second she added stop, those three words became the very best words he had ever heard.