Lean on Me
She looked out the window, holding the heavy burgundy drapes back with a delicate white hand. Her hair twisted and curled in the fall's breeze, appearing like a cloud of brown around her small face. There were little crinkles around her coffee-coloured eyes that deepened when she smiled. She was not smiling now.
With her head wilting down to touch one shoulder, she turned away from the day and dropped the drapes, throwing us into near darkness. She looked around the room, at the light reflecting off the parquet floor, the faint outline of happiness in the painting on the wall, and the marble fireplace filled with ash.
The room was too large, I realized, too empty. If one spoke aloud, an echo would reply. Anything painted with such severely white walls and filled with only two over-stuffed antique chairs couldn't be cozy enough for her. I wished desperately that perhaps she could go to her own home, but that...that was impossible. Far too impossible, even with all the magic in the world.
She wasn't moving anymore. Something had caught her, I thought. Some wicked apparition breathed into her and entranced her into stillness. She stood silently, back firmly to the mauve curtains, clenching her hands together in front of her chest.
I couldn't stand looking at her while she stood alone in such agony. It was true that she had her beloved friends, the two she had latched onto in first year, but they did not understand the pain of losing someone. Yes, Harry might, but he was exceptionally stupid with emotions and never would have been able to comfort her. Neither could Ron, who had been tiny when his elder sisters were killed. I never understood why she ever came to me with her troubles, why I might have been able to offer her peace. I had never behaved with any emotion but dislike towards her, and she had not been fond of me, either.
Dwelling on such questions was pointless now, anyway. I could not watch her suffer alone as she did. For the first time, since she had come to stay two weeks ago, I stood and came closer to her. She did not notice me. I couldn't resist my feelings at this moment, though I should never have taken advantage of her emotional state.
She trembled under my touch as I wrapped my armas around her and kissed her softly on the cheek. I looked at her with what I hoped could be seen as a plea to share her pain. My message must have reached her, for her body relaxed a little and her eyes half closed themselves as she let her head droop onto my shoulder.
I suddenly wanted to tell her that I shouldn't be the one to help her, that I couldn't take away the horrifying truth of her parents' deaths at His hands, that she should run off to a real friend's house before I hurt her, but I couldn't. Not when she was leaning on me for balance as she did now. Not when I had already invaded her personal space.
Not when she finally spoke, for the first time since she had come, murmurring dreamily to me. "Thank you, Cho."
~*~
Please review. Constructive criticism is welcomed and greatly appreciated.
She looked out the window, holding the heavy burgundy drapes back with a delicate white hand. Her hair twisted and curled in the fall's breeze, appearing like a cloud of brown around her small face. There were little crinkles around her coffee-coloured eyes that deepened when she smiled. She was not smiling now.
With her head wilting down to touch one shoulder, she turned away from the day and dropped the drapes, throwing us into near darkness. She looked around the room, at the light reflecting off the parquet floor, the faint outline of happiness in the painting on the wall, and the marble fireplace filled with ash.
The room was too large, I realized, too empty. If one spoke aloud, an echo would reply. Anything painted with such severely white walls and filled with only two over-stuffed antique chairs couldn't be cozy enough for her. I wished desperately that perhaps she could go to her own home, but that...that was impossible. Far too impossible, even with all the magic in the world.
She wasn't moving anymore. Something had caught her, I thought. Some wicked apparition breathed into her and entranced her into stillness. She stood silently, back firmly to the mauve curtains, clenching her hands together in front of her chest.
I couldn't stand looking at her while she stood alone in such agony. It was true that she had her beloved friends, the two she had latched onto in first year, but they did not understand the pain of losing someone. Yes, Harry might, but he was exceptionally stupid with emotions and never would have been able to comfort her. Neither could Ron, who had been tiny when his elder sisters were killed. I never understood why she ever came to me with her troubles, why I might have been able to offer her peace. I had never behaved with any emotion but dislike towards her, and she had not been fond of me, either.
Dwelling on such questions was pointless now, anyway. I could not watch her suffer alone as she did. For the first time, since she had come to stay two weeks ago, I stood and came closer to her. She did not notice me. I couldn't resist my feelings at this moment, though I should never have taken advantage of her emotional state.
She trembled under my touch as I wrapped my armas around her and kissed her softly on the cheek. I looked at her with what I hoped could be seen as a plea to share her pain. My message must have reached her, for her body relaxed a little and her eyes half closed themselves as she let her head droop onto my shoulder.
I suddenly wanted to tell her that I shouldn't be the one to help her, that I couldn't take away the horrifying truth of her parents' deaths at His hands, that she should run off to a real friend's house before I hurt her, but I couldn't. Not when she was leaning on me for balance as she did now. Not when I had already invaded her personal space.
Not when she finally spoke, for the first time since she had come, murmurring dreamily to me. "Thank you, Cho."
~*~
Please review. Constructive criticism is welcomed and greatly appreciated.