Like The Rain
The
rain always made her think of him. It could be harsh and unmoving
or soft as a butterfly's kiss. It could be soothing or annoying as
hell.
She remembered when he left. He told her that he had been playing
with her, working to get closer to Harry. She didn't believe him, at
least not until he hit her. She slowly raised her head to look at
him, and what she saw there knocked her to the ground.
There was no emotion. Not a single sign of the tenderness she was so
accustom to seeing. Instead his eyes were filled with hate, the deep
burning fire you only found in the eyes of a man looking at the
person he most despised. Then he reached in his pocket and pulled out
a black box. He threw it down and it landed on the ground in front of
her. He turned with an air of disgust and walked away. Through the
sound of the rain pounding on the grass, she heard a soft *pop* and
she knew he was gone.
She slowly rose and picked up the box, turning it slowly in her hand.
It had looked black when he pulled it out, but examining it closely
she could tell it was a deep forest green box. The box was velvet and
was about the size of a long jewelry box. She was about to open it
when she heard a shout.