Chapter Eleven
oOo
That went so much better and so much worse than I ever imagined. I thought, stupidly, that if I said it, if I gave you a chance to throw it in my face like I threw it in yours, that you would. But you're not like me, are you? You never were. You would never do something just to hurt me. Not that you've never hurt me, just, I don't think it was intentional, which is sometimes worse. I couldn't let myself hope that you loved me too, because I'm simply not strong enough to survive having that hope crushed.
But something flickered to life in your eyes when I said it, something that has been missing so long I had forgotten it had ever been there to miss. You looked happy. No, it was more than that. Perhaps it was joy. I don't know. It was too many things: happiness, joy, glee, triumph, fire, passion, lust, all at once and then you were so close to me you looked like you had only one eye, and nothing, nothing, nothing mattered in that moment except that I loved you and you loved me.
I might have cried, but I don't do that, and besides there was the lust which overrode my better judgement. Suddenly I wasn't afraid, because you would never hurt me, you loved me, and it seemed like just the perfect time to have you inside me for the first time. And your hands on me, in me, over me felt so good, and your mouth on my throat and I just wanted more. I wanted it like a thirsty man in the desert wants water.
And you gave it to me. Just what I asked for. More. I have always imagined it perfectly, how good it would feel, how romantic it would be. I knew it would steal my breath away, because it would be you. And it did. But never in all the times I imagined it did I imagine it happening on a dirty floor, or that it would hurt so much, that it would feel like I was tearing inside, that it would burn like a poker hot from the fire had been shoved up inside me. I was completely incapable of breathing.
But you were so happy. I didn't want to take that away from you again, so I didn't say anything. I would be fine, and there was no need for you to ever know. But I buggered it all up, and when you touched me I flinched, just like before. I would never have let you light up the room if I had known that the glamour had flickered out while I tried to ward off the pain. But it was too late when I finally realized the bruises weren't the only thing I had covered. I never, never wanted you to see that, to look at me that way.
oOo
I didn't see you today. I mean, I'm not a girl. I didn't expect you to send me flowers or something. We don't have any classes together today, and we must have missed each other at dinner. There's not a reason in the world that we'd run into each other today just walking through the halls. We have been spending a lot of time together. You probably just have work to catch up on. Granger must have you locked away in some little study room somewhere making sure you don't flunk your N.E.W.T.S.
But it would have been nice to see you, just hear your voice or see you smile. I've been thinking about you all day. I can't quite seem to focus on anything, and there is a horrible smile making itself at home on my face. The Slytherins will all think I've gone soft if I keep this up. I may have to clean out Ron's brothers and rain havoc on the first year Gryffindors, and it'll be all your fault. You can make it up to me with my birthday gift.
oOo
It's been three days. I am calm. I am not freaking out. I've been gone longer than that and you never missed me. Maybe you haven't noticed. You've never been quick on the uptake unless there was something reckless and ill advised involved, and being in the same room with me for five fucking minutes wouldn't be either right about now. In fact an owl with a bloody sonnet wouldn't be ill advised right about now.
I'm still pretty. The glamour is back on and my skin is pristine again. You needn't worry about any marks lingering underneath, as quite frankly, I don't want any of them. As far as you or anyone else is concerned, my neck and my chest and my belly and my arse and my arms are quite as white as the day I was born.
I'm sore and tired and I haven't slept. I can't sleep until I see you. Where are you? I've come to you ten thousand times, but I can't this time. I need you to come to me. I could find you, there simply aren't that many places you could be, but you know where I am and you aren't here with me.
I love you. I wasn't lying when I told you so. But I need to know you love me, too, that this wasn't all some charade to get you laid. Your regret might tear my heart into ten thousand pieces, one for every time I came to you, and yet I want it.
I want your regret, or your glee, your anger, or your comfort. The burning in my arse is nothing to the ache in my chest, the wild palpitations of my heart in that moment just before I think I will see you. I need you.
oOo
A/N: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. Makes me all happy.
Chapter Nine
Melenna, I know I'm a tease, but a girl can't deny who she really is deep down inside. I just happen to be a bitchy tease deep down inside. Chaeli.meep., Hey, he's bruised in a good way, so don't feel too bad for him. Ashes of Stars, patience woman, patience! Ally, mmm, cherries. I love to watch a good axe murder chase scene, don't you?
Chapter Ten
Ally, yep. Harry knows. The glamour came off. Of course that would be evident if you read this chapter. I'm going to bed now. Anna, giggle you make me laugh so much. I love a good angst whore. Opal Portia, fuck yeah! Thank you. Crowley Black, thank you very much. thedarkside45, I'm glad you have a good man these days. A good man makes up for a bad job, a bad haircut, and bad shoes. Not that I have any of those. Hee. Thank you. theTigersFire, tragically, no. And I had had just that same thought for the ending. Hoshiko-Malfoy, O-K-A-Y AloraBraken, he still loves Draco, he just doesn't say, and he doesn't mean to hurt him, they're just, you know, passionate. Am I the only one still sporting bruises and hickies after sex? Melenna, close, soo very, very close. Thank you. Pixie Goddess1, thank you very much. I'm all about the not actually poetry poetry. My real poetry? Sucks ass. Ashes of Stars, not until the end. And don't beat Harry too much or he'll start to like it and then how will I keep him in line? Chaeli.meep., of course Harry loves him. I'm all about the tragic star-crossed love. Which is not so much star-crossed love without the love. He's just waiting for Draco to say it first because he's not sure if it's okay with Draco for him to say it at all.
