Forever by Alliance Webb
Chapter Fourteen
Get Over It
Oliver laid in bed that night, eyes shot open. They were red and wet as he thought about Draco. He wouldn't let on during the day, but alone at night he'd cry himself to sleep. He had tried thinking about something else, he even tried to be attracted to a girl, but try as he may, his mind always returned to Draco. Those soft grey eyes (A/N in the first version I had accidentally made them green...) echoed in his head. The soft blonde hair between his fingers etched in his mind. There was nothing he wanted more than to walk to the prefect's bathroom right then and hold his lover in his arms. He knew it couldn't be, it would never be. "Damn the gods," he sighed.
"From what I heard, they kept their promise," Ron Weasley came over and sat on the foot of the bed.
"In a most unnerving manner," he said, recovering from the shock of having been heard.
"But you can't just damn them because you didn't get exactly what you wanted, you know with them you have to be specific," he nodded his head.
Oliver took a deep breath. "I've got nothing to lose, I sacrificed my pride to get him back, what more can I give?" he asked.
"Nothing," Ron replied. "You screwed up, you can't take it back," he said. "All you can do now is pull yourself together, I know it hurts to want something you can't have - trust me I know, Hermione'll hardly look at me lately but crying every night doesn't make it better, Wood. You just have to suck it up and continue living life, because if you don't, life will pass you by," he finished.
Oliver put his head in his hands. "But it hurts so bad," he tried.
"Well, forgive me for saying duh! The truth hurts, Wood, if it didn't why would so many people lie?" he said, getting up and returning to his own bed.
Oliver took a deep breath understanding these words. "Thanks, Weasley," he said softly, it was time to get better.
Draco sat at the Slytherin table gently toying with Kyle's soft hair. He perked up when a large group of Gryffindors walked in. A smirk spread across his face when he saw Oliver. "Hey baby," he said loudly to Kyle as Oliver walked by. "Oh, Wood, I'm sorry, I didn't mean you, you faggot," he scoffed.
Oliver simply looked up obliviously at the mention of his name. "Oh - Draco, I'm sorry, I didn't even see you there, hello," he said just as he would have had he never loved Draco.
Draco snarled. Why in hell didn't Oliver noticed him? He turned slightly red. Oliver loved him, he was supposed to be sulking over him. Draco was ultimately insulted as Oliver walked away paying no heed to his ex-lover.
"Quel est ton probléme, mon amour?" Kyle's soft voice rang. Her thick french accent sent chills up the spine of all the other men at the table.
Draco, however, remained uninterested. 'That was low,' he thought grumpily.
Oliver walked to the Gryffindor table trying to hide his discontentment. Beads of sweat rolled down his body as he sat down. He took a short glance at Draco. 'I hope I didn't hurt his feelings,' he sighed to himself, he knew his lover well.
"Warm?" Hermione sat down and noticed his sweaty palms.
Oliver looked up, snapping dramatically out of his trance. "What?" he said.
"You look sick, are you okay?" she was concerned.
"Ye-yes, why wouldn't I be okay? I look okay don't I?" he rambled.
"Yeah," Hermione shot him an awkward glance as he continued eating.
a/n: I think you want to review
Chapter Fourteen
Get Over It
Oliver laid in bed that night, eyes shot open. They were red and wet as he thought about Draco. He wouldn't let on during the day, but alone at night he'd cry himself to sleep. He had tried thinking about something else, he even tried to be attracted to a girl, but try as he may, his mind always returned to Draco. Those soft grey eyes (A/N in the first version I had accidentally made them green...) echoed in his head. The soft blonde hair between his fingers etched in his mind. There was nothing he wanted more than to walk to the prefect's bathroom right then and hold his lover in his arms. He knew it couldn't be, it would never be. "Damn the gods," he sighed.
"From what I heard, they kept their promise," Ron Weasley came over and sat on the foot of the bed.
"In a most unnerving manner," he said, recovering from the shock of having been heard.
"But you can't just damn them because you didn't get exactly what you wanted, you know with them you have to be specific," he nodded his head.
Oliver took a deep breath. "I've got nothing to lose, I sacrificed my pride to get him back, what more can I give?" he asked.
"Nothing," Ron replied. "You screwed up, you can't take it back," he said. "All you can do now is pull yourself together, I know it hurts to want something you can't have - trust me I know, Hermione'll hardly look at me lately but crying every night doesn't make it better, Wood. You just have to suck it up and continue living life, because if you don't, life will pass you by," he finished.
Oliver put his head in his hands. "But it hurts so bad," he tried.
"Well, forgive me for saying duh! The truth hurts, Wood, if it didn't why would so many people lie?" he said, getting up and returning to his own bed.
Oliver took a deep breath understanding these words. "Thanks, Weasley," he said softly, it was time to get better.
Draco sat at the Slytherin table gently toying with Kyle's soft hair. He perked up when a large group of Gryffindors walked in. A smirk spread across his face when he saw Oliver. "Hey baby," he said loudly to Kyle as Oliver walked by. "Oh, Wood, I'm sorry, I didn't mean you, you faggot," he scoffed.
Oliver simply looked up obliviously at the mention of his name. "Oh - Draco, I'm sorry, I didn't even see you there, hello," he said just as he would have had he never loved Draco.
Draco snarled. Why in hell didn't Oliver noticed him? He turned slightly red. Oliver loved him, he was supposed to be sulking over him. Draco was ultimately insulted as Oliver walked away paying no heed to his ex-lover.
"Quel est ton probléme, mon amour?" Kyle's soft voice rang. Her thick french accent sent chills up the spine of all the other men at the table.
Draco, however, remained uninterested. 'That was low,' he thought grumpily.
Oliver walked to the Gryffindor table trying to hide his discontentment. Beads of sweat rolled down his body as he sat down. He took a short glance at Draco. 'I hope I didn't hurt his feelings,' he sighed to himself, he knew his lover well.
"Warm?" Hermione sat down and noticed his sweaty palms.
Oliver looked up, snapping dramatically out of his trance. "What?" he said.
"You look sick, are you okay?" she was concerned.
"Ye-yes, why wouldn't I be okay? I look okay don't I?" he rambled.
"Yeah," Hermione shot him an awkward glance as he continued eating.
a/n: I think you want to review