She still wonders how she fell in love with him.
She wasn't the type of person most would consider romantic, and she frankly didn't know how to love. Her idea of romance was a spar session followed by a hot and sweaty romp. She couldn't be tamed, especially by someone like him. But somehow, someway, she fell head-over-heels for him, and she never forgave herself for it.
They first met only two years ago.
Two years ago. Two years ago she went to that school. She doesn't remember much about the school itself, sometimes she even forgets the name. But she remembers her first encounter with him. She remembers with crystal clarity. He was fist fighting with another student, and she was called in to break it up. Her first impression of him was that he was a pompous little jackass who deserved a good beating. But then she looked up into those piercing gray eyes and felt her knees quiver. Her knees had never quivered. Never.
She was looking for redemption…
She was there to help, to amend for the horrible things she had done. She was to protect and care for the students and staff. That was her job, after all. Getting involved with any of her "clients" would have violated their good of ethics, and that just made him so much more alluring.
But what she found was love.
It started as mild flirtation. To say it wasn't serious would be an understatement. She thought he was attractive and vice versa. But after a night of an unsatisfying slay, it became an one-night stand. Afterwards, he really began to feel for her. He followed her around like a love sick puppy, as though she were an addiction that he couldn't shake. As much as she wanted to, she wouldn't let herself return the affection.
He wanted her so much…
It felt good: being chased, being desired. But as time went on, her own feelings for him developed, and that scared her. She planned on using him a few more times and did so. She hoped that he would lose interest and give up. She couldn't have been more wrong. His crush only grew, and leading him on wasn't fun anymore.
But he never begged.
When she looks back, she tries to figure out what exactly made him so appealing to her. She thinks it was his ability to show that he loved her, instead of saying it. She knew his love for her didn't need to be voiced, because it was in his touch, his smile, and his eyes. They felt safe together; so much so that he was never daunted when she rejected him. He understood her and she understood him.
She finally began to come around…
No matter how hard she tried to escape him, she never could. She began to see him in her dreams and in everything around her. Her throat tightened and her heart raced whenever she thought of him. He had crawled under her skin and into her blood. Now he was her addiction.
When their world was shattered.
She recalls the night he embraced her, his gray eyes glistened with tears. She had always been a little intimidated by his eyes. They were so naked; she could see every emotion flicker across them. He was so easy to read yet so mysterious at the same time. He pulled away and rolled up his sleeve. There it was. That hideous mark on his left arm. She was so angry and disappointed, especially at herself. Confused and obviously hurt, she screamed and threatened to stake someone, let it be him or herself.
Nothing could fix the tear.
He tried explaining, he made excuses. She wouldn't hear a word of it. She grasped the stake in her hand, her whole body trembled with rage. He took out his wand, his eyes filled with despair. They stood in a tense stalemate, both too proud to back down. He watched her shake and squirm, her dark eyes fixed on him. She was an exposed nerve, sensitive and twitching with pain.
She never could forgive him.
She couldn't understand. She loved him and he betrayed her. Maybe it wasn't a big deal to him, but it was to her. He was her first love, damn it! She had never loved anyone before, and she was pretty damn sure she wouldn't love anyone since. He was the one, he was the fucking one, and now he had ruined it. The stake fell to the ground as she collapsed, her body wavering with uncontrollable sobs. With tears in his eyes and guilt in his heart, he wrapped his arms around her one last time.
He never stopped loving her…
He never questioned why she left. He knew he had it coming. But even that knowledge couldn't heal the pain. How could he be convinced into turning against her and all their friends? He worked so damn hard to make life easy for them, to prove that he could give her everything she wanted, and now he had "Fucked it up", as she would say. He loathed himself for being so weak. For the first time since meeting her, he wished he was someone else.
And she never stopped loving him.
She left that night with a hole in her heart and a fresh scar on the inside. She never believed in soul mates or love at first sight, but as she fell for him, she began to. She hated herself for being so stupid. People around her always screw her over. What made her think he would be any different? Because he was her soul mate. He actually got her like no one had before. He didn't ask her to be anyone else. He loved her for who she was. She still loves him. To this day she wonders if he still loves her, and if reconciliation is at all possible. She mostly wonders if she'll ever stare into those naked eyes again.