Flyaway
All the best friendships are born from bitter hatred. That's what happened to us. Maybe it was because we were such similar people – to begin with, so similar that we couldn't bear to give in to each other, and to end with, so similar that we became almost one entity.
Maybe that was why I was so broken when he left me. I gave him a lot of what makes me me, so when he went he took a lot of that with him.
I wonder if he still knows, wherever he is, that I'm still with him.
I wonder if he still wants me with him.
In a way, I don't want to know. Ignorance is bliss, they always said. (Who was 'they', anyway?) Maybe he doesn't want me. But this way, without knowing, I can pretend he does, and that he watches for me, and waits for me, and loves me just like he used to.
I know that we're in the past now. I know that we have no future. But, now, in the present, I have my memories to reassure me. I can always remember that there was once an 'us'. It may be a long time ago now. (It used to be days, then weeks, then months. Now it's years.) But still… it was there once.
And no matter where he is now, the boy with the magical eyes, in my mind he's where he'll always belong: right next to me.
Don't destroy my dreams. Let me believe, let me love, just like I used to. Make me think, misguidedly, that one day he'll be back soon, with that secretive half-smile and the glimmering eyes. Let me feel his fingers running through my hair, let me taste him on my lips, let me smell him on my clothes.
Because (and I'm quoting from the mystical, shadowy figure of 'they' again), if you let a bird free it'll fly back to you.
Right?
Author's Note: Right. This may or may not be continued. Mehh, whatever I feel like. Review? (It's Draco/Harry, incidentally.) I don't own them, nor will I ever. Goddamn JK.