Picking up the Pieces
Disclaimer: As if I could claim to be The Isobelle Carmody!
A/N I decided that we need an Obernewtyn Category. Therefore I, and hopefully passivor, will start posting plenty of nice, Obernewtyn-y stories. Plese read and review, and support our campaign – GIVE OBERNEWTYN A CATEGORY!
Actually this isn't really a story. More of a … well I don't know what they are called…
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As my fingers reached her lips, I trembled. I could feel the smile she put on her face, the fake smile she wore when she was sad. I could feel the love she felt for him under the barrier I raised. It was always Rushton, and always had been. He, the Master of Obernewtyn, and her, the revered Guildmistress of the Farseekers. I could never match up to that, oh no, not Dameon, the poor blind empath. The gentle, all-understanding and brotherly Dameon. The Dameon she could never love.
I had loved her as long as I could remember… Ever since I met her that day, since I felt the touching dignity she radiated amidst the hurt she had suffered. Ever since she had spoken to me for the first time. Ever since I felt the touch of her mind upon mine. She had filled my mind, my thoughts and my heart. Now that I had walked down this road, this road of loving her, there was no escape. Only pain and heartbreak lay ahead. I had always known, but fought against it. I forced myself to believe that in the end, she would turn to me.
Of course, I was just fooling myself. When they came back that day, when I felt the happiness flowing from the pair of them, I knew. I knew it all along. But that didn't stop my heart shattering, didn't stop the all the hurt. The constant love I felt emanating from her only made it worse.
What did I do? What could I do? I ran, of course. Ran away from everything I knew, everything I cared about, all because of love. How could something so wonderful be so painful? I do not know. All I know is that my heart has been shattered, and there will never be another to pick up the pieces.