"Fate"
9-17-04
Harry
reflects on the night spent with his... well with Draco. Harry's
POV.
You're sleeping so peaceful below my hot skin.
Your eyes are fluttering slightly under closed lids, in response to a
dream. Is it me you're dreaming of?
I trace your skin:
scars, muscles, and that little birthmark, which coincidentally looks
like a heart, just above your belly button. You stir a little under
my hand, but you don't wake.
I didn't mean for it to
happen like this; I honestly didn't. Fate just has a funny way of
working like that. Is that what this is, what we are? Fate?
I'm
scared, are you? You look so happy, and I'm guessing I do too. But
deep down inside, my stomach is churning. Two separate worlds are
fighting to come together in my heart.
I turn your arm over,
and my eyes fall upon the mark. The mark of hate, anger, fury...
death. All aimed at me. I know you had no choice. I know you hate it
and want it gone, but it's not. It's still there.
And it's
glowing, now. A fiery red. You bolt upright, shoving me off of you a
little. You stare at the mark than at the clock... than at me.
Your
eyes are sad now, "I have to go," you say. My heart aches for
your sadness.
"I know," I respond, brushing my sweaty hair
out of my eyes, my scar flashing to view.
You get up and put
clothes on, than stand next to me. You pull my naked form up out of
the bed and you kiss my scar. "I won't let him hurt you." And
than you are gone, leaving me standing naked, and alone.
