- - -
"Now she's staring wide-eyed
Can't close her eyes…"
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Chapter Fourteen: Just Two Friends in Lust
- Seventh Year -
I stare. Gape. Let him feel my eyes bore into his. Letting him feel the gravity of the sounds that he just made. He loves me. He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.
I stare. Hating him and wanting him and hating and wanting and hating and wanting and loving and hating…
It'd be so easy to say it back. "I love you, too." Say it and watch the grin creep across his face, his cheeks color, his posture sharpen. Watch him walk to me and grab me and hold me and kiss me. Love me. It'd be so easy. So easy. Too easy.
I want to drop the past. Shed it. And leave it. Watch it fall down that pitch black well. Hear the resounding splash. But the water down there is cold. And frighteningly familiar. Cold. And wet. And crawling towards the top.
I see porcelain tubs and flooded bathrooms. An abandoned tower and boxer-clad boys. I see nights alone and sad red eyes. I see anger and resentment; rejection and denial. I see her and I see him. I see me. Alone. Crying. Broken. Shattered. And him just walking away. I see damage that has been done. And wonder if words are enough to fix it.
It isn't fair.
It's never fair…
I'm staring. Staring at that blank spot behind him. The spot where the trees reach the sky and paint a pretty picture. I'm staring without seeing it. I'm staring. White flowers on the floor. Empty dinner plates. Locker rooms and cluttered broom closets. Fire-whiskey. Leather sofas. Stone corridors. Confrontations Ravenclaws Blonde girls closed drapes sticky sheets lonely mornings empty bed chest aching pulse rising leering smirks blank gazes…apologetic words.
Sometimes 'sorry' just isn't enough.
I hurt. I ached. I made myself sick. Drove myself mad. Humiliated myself. Debased myself. Nearly killed myself in a fucking bathtub. While he turned a blind eye. And now…now…
He gets to crawl back with hopeful, burning eyes using words I keep under armed guarded in a steel safe hidden beneath my soul.
He thinks a five minute conversation will make it better. Five minutes can't mend five months, though. Even here. In a world full of magic.
"I love you."
You're not supposed to hurt the object of your love…So how did I end up ripped to shreds?
None of this is real. Nothing was real. It's not happening and not real and love isn't real. No. There was no love.
I can't do this… I can't do it.
He's waiting. And the silence I've given him is painful. Bone-crushingly so. I open my mouth. Not sure what comes next. Speaking out of truth rather than logic.
Just breathe.
He looks so hopeful. And at the same time so certain. He thinks he's saved the day. Turned my life around. Just because of those three words.
It's not fair.
And he needs to know this.
"You can't just…do that. You, you can't just…find me, and – and tell me…that…and tell me those words and – and…expect me to crumble and fall at your…feet and…let you pick me back up. Again." Courage comes as time passes. Volume increases as anger intensifies. The past won't let me go. Won't let me forget. The way he made me feel. The way he made me act. "I'm sorry too, Fred. I'm really fucking sorry. You lost me. You lost me somewhere between my…drunken c-confession…and your…bloody Bridget. You don't know how much you hurt me, Fred. How much it fucking killed to see you with her and watch you with her and more than anything wish that it was…me. Me that you wanted. Loved." I swallow. I want the lump to go away. I want my eyes to dry. "I let you break me once. But…I-I learn from my mistakes." I pause, my voice quiet once again. "I thought that I loved you. I thought that you could love me. I was wrong. Jumped to the wrong conclusions. There was no love. Just sex. A heightened form of lust. Not love." No love no love no love no love. No, love. "I'm sorry. I'm not going to do it again. I can't do it again. Not…with…you."
I finally look at him. And I have to turn away. I can see the hurt, the pain, the grief. I've been there before. I've been there. Wrestled with the pain that comes with rejection. And maybe that's what this is all about. Retaliation. I pray it's not.
I look at him. Wondering if it's the last time. I want to memorize the way he looks. No. The way he looked. This isn't the Fred I came to love. This isn't him. This broken shell of a…man. Somewhere along the line he crossed over that line. No longer a boy. Now a man.
A man who looks as though he could cry.
We lock eyes. And I know I have to get out of here. Run. "I'm done." It's my own whisper. Telling him to leave. Telling him I'm gone.
I don't wait. I don't want to hear any pleas, any begging. I turn away. And he remains silent.
I walk away. Away from the boy who was once my world. A silly boy whose kisses turned my knees into silly putty and made my heart do death-defying gymnastics. A boy that made me want romances in the rain and a comforting hand to hold. A boy whose laugh made me want to leap and whose smile made me weak.
That's not him anymore.
When you find the worst in someone that's suddenly all you can see. Ugliness. The spark is extinguished. The thrill has subsided. They become human again.
I helped make him a mere mortal. I think I doused the twinkle in his eye, the spring in his step. I helped make him a man. A man who apologizes and uses words like "love."
And means it, too.
- - -
I didn't sleep that night. Guilt does terrible things to a person.
I treated him the way he had treated me.
No, no you didn't. You let that ignorant arsehole know what was going on. He deserved it.
A convincing argument. I still felt like shit. Felt. Possibly a key word.
It's a sunny day. A warm day. Unseasonably so.
I should be studying. N.E.W.T.'s are inching closer and closer. Soon they'll be tapping me on the shoulder, scaring the shit out of me.
The book is open at least. Which book that is…I'm not quite sure. It is on page 261 though.
I haven't seen anyone today. It's Saturday. I didn't go to breakfast. I saw the sun rising and immediately headed outside. Taking off my shoes and ignoring the wetness of the grass as the blades stuck to my feet.
I don't know how long I've been out here. I do know every time I try to think I see him. And feel my heart constrict and shame envelope me. A suffocating blanket. That's slowly becoming looser.
I fall back. The sun blinding me. I put a hand up to block it. Watching it glow with the brilliant star as its backdrop.
I feel guilty and I feel light. So light. Light enough to float away. Float like a feather and never touch the ground. Wind my way through space and time.
He knows. Everything. He knows. I'm in the open. On display. I already let him pick me apart. And now he's seen what's left. The bones and the waste. It's so liberating.
There's nothing left between us.
A tear is trickling. Falling onto the grass.
And I laugh. Laugh at myself. Laugh at him. Laugh at the kids we once were. Laugh until my ribs hurt. Thinking of everything. Train rides and Quidditch practices. Trips to the kitchen, to Hogsmeade, the Burrow. Late-night study sessions and Common Room trysts. Practical jokes and back-firing pranks. Long-winded tales and witty repartee. Us at eleven. Us at seventeen. Us everywhere in between.
Memories do funny things to a person.
I'm lying there in the grass. Middle of the afternoon. Middle of the morning. Middle of the night. Middle of nowhere. And I'm laughing and crying and have never felt so right.
I'm going to be okay.
We might be okay.
He'll be there tomorrow. And the next day. And the week after that. And there's time.
For once, time is on our side.
- - -
My world feels oddly quiet.
I have only now just crawled into bed. Pulled the covers up to my chin. Laying there. Hands at my side. Lying still. Still as a corpse. A guest at my own funeral. Afraid to break the silence and have things come crashing down around me.
I inhale. Sigh. And close my eyes.
Feeling nothing.
For the first time in months, I slept until morning.
- - -
"Yeah, they were just two fucks in lust
Baby, that just don't mean much
You trained me not to love
After you taught me what it was…"
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A/N: Song lyrics from Meet Me in the Bathroom – The Strokes.
Kind of a short chapter…I know. That's just the way it goes.
Two more chapters…tear I'm excited though. To get this in the can.
Thank you for the trillionth time. The reviews really help. Honestly. Truthfully. I love you guys for letting me know what you think. So, please. You know the system: Read and Review!