Missed you
"Everybody's got a hunger no matter where they are. Everybody clings to their own fear. Everybody hides some scar - Precious pain. Empty and cold but it keeps me alive. I gave it my soul so that I could survive - keeping me safe in these chains." - Melissa Etheridge
The night was one of those cold ones. The kind where you wake up in your bed and shiver as the freezing wind rushes over your bare back. The one where you know that the only thing that woke you up was the icy feeling that was sinking into your bones. He sighed as he stood up, running a hand through his pale blond hair. He shuddered from the cold that whisked through the night air.
Slowly, he staggered through the darkness of his apartment. The walls were his only guide in the labyrinth of almost tangible night. He stumbled into the kitchen; there he began to fill a cup of water. He rested against the sink staring out at the dark abyss and into the child playground that was settled in the center of the apartment complex.
The apartment was empty. It had been for the past week. She had gathered her things and left. No good-byes, no second chance, nothing. He had gotten used to the emptiness that shrouded the apartment like an ever nagging child.
She had been the first and only person he had ever confided in about his past. About the dark cloud that continued to hang over him. He was the child of a death eater. He bore a scar that many despise and spit at. He bore a symbol that all loath.
He looked down at his arm, the skull seemed to laugh at him and mock him. Even though Voldemort is long gone the scar remains to remind him and those around him that times were not always so happy. That once darkness had reined supreme.
The mark itself was not given to him on his own free will, but upon those of his father. Lucius was a man who was respected by dark wizards, but to Draco he was nothing but a sniveling man who groveled at the feet of another. Draco despised him like he despised the mark that marred his arm.
These were both reminders of the scars that his past had left upon him. They were the kind of scars that lashed at the soul. The kind that the body could heal from, but the soul remained forever damaged.
It was the years that he suffered through beatings, mental and physical. Both types preformed by the man who was supposed to love him; his father. Draco shook his head. He, of course, had gotten over the fact that though his life seemed sheltered and lavished; it was not.
Hermione was the first to learn about this. The rest of the world remained ignorant to his pains. He was glad to keep it that way. He didn't want anyone to feel sorry for him. That was not the kind of person he was.
He looked out into the night as he placed his cup in the sink. The swing blew softly in the wind as if pushed by an invisible occupant.
You see, though Draco appeared to think he was better than everyone else. He knew that really he bore a scar just like everyone else. This scar reminded him that he was just another human being. As stained and imperfect as they were…
He heard the front door, open and close, softly. Draco spun around, looking at the door that led into the living room. He heard someone drop their things onto the couch. The door swung open, and the person standing there made him catch his breathe.
"Hermione? What are you doing here?"
"I didn't know how much I missed you. I feel stupid for leaving. I was just… scared."
Draco's eyes went cold, "Of what?"
"Of everything… how I feel for you, you leaving me…"
"So, you left me. It's not like you to run from your problems."
"That was when we were kids, Draco. I grew up, haven't you noticed. Now, I just don't know anymore." She shook her head, letting out a shaky breath.
"I don't care… It doesn't matter anymore. I'm over you."
"You are… It doesn't take you long. It's only been a week." She took a step towards him.
"No, it doesn't take me long." He watched her ease towards him slowly, till she stood right in front of him.
She raised her hand, placing it on his cheek. "I love you, Draco."
His eyes seemed to soften, but then hardened back to their normal stony grey. "Whatever."
She stood on her toes, kissing his lips softly. Her hands fell to his waist, pulling him closer. "No… you're not over me."
"Why do you say that?" Draco whispered against her forehead, his breath lifting a few of her hairs.
"Because, you would have pulled away," she looked up into his grey eyes. "You didn't." She kissed him again, softly, lingering.
He smiled lightly, pushing her out of the kitchen and into the living room. She hit the button, turning on the CD player.
I feel your lips
I taste your skin
I need to know
I need to feel you from within
Hermione kissed him, as she fell backwards on the couch. "I missed you so much."
Note: Well, there it is. I would like to say that this is a short story. I originally wasn't going to post it, but what's the point of writing Fanfiction and not posting. I mean, you can't get any money from it.
So, here's my short story. Tell me what you thought of it!
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or the song near the end… that belongs to Stabbing Westward, "Inside you."
