A/N: Another sappy romane story from yours truly.

Broken

Oh just the scent of you, it makes me hurt
So how's it you that makes me better?
- Vanessa Carlton

You are a contradiction.

You like to play it hot and cold and you like to burn me and leave me frozen like ice.

You're simple and complicated and amazing and terrible.

You fail me miserably yet you surpass all of my expectations.

You bend easy but you break effortlessly.

You are my weakness and you are my strength.

The hand on the clock is striking two in the morning and I'm sitting here for the millionth night in the row thinking about you, when I should be asleep. But then I'd probably dream about you anyway.

You occupy every single inch of me and you're not even here.

You are my sanity but you drive me crazy.

It's been months since I last saw you and you haven't made a single effort to try and contact me at all. Whatsoever. Or maybe you have. Maybe you're like me and every single attempt to write a letter is unsuccessful; the parchment goes to ashes in the fireplace, unfinished, unsent and just not good enough for you.

You've never had high standards as far as girls went but each one you dated had intimidating beauty and heart-stopping perfection. And when I told you this you threw your head back and laughed your beautiful laugh and you told me that they were less than nothing compared to me. You said that you would trade every single experience you had with all of them to see me smile for a second, because you thought my smile was the most genuine thing you've ever seen and you said that it made the world go round. It was the cheesiest and most adorable thing I'd ever heard. And I did smile then.

And I smile now but quickly it's replaced by a blank expression that's been occupying my features for quite a while now. There are no tears because I think I've cried them all. I could cry again but that would be the worst thing I could do. Because Merlin help me, I might cry forever and I've cried enough already.

It's been roughly a year since you first told me you loved me and I remember because how could I ever forget? It was the same night as that night. That night of tangled limbs and sweaty palms and searching lips and whispered words and connections of the most intimate kind.

I knew it wasn't your first time. But it was mine. And you knew it and you treated me like something fragile and delicate and you were so gentle, as if I would break into a million pieces if you touched me. You told me this and I told you that as long as you're there, broken is easily fixed.

And my mind is inevitably drifting to the day you left. You thought you were so cool leaving on your broom like that in front of all the school, cheering you on madly, silly you with your silly twin. And everyone thought it was brilliant. Except for me. And I wondered why you never told me you were leaving. I knew you were crazy like that. But I didn't think you would just give it all up. School, your future, your friends. Me.

I thought I was enough for you.

You were enough for me. You still are.

I can't help feeling this way and I certainly can't explain it. I can't fight it or resist it and I know because I've tried. But it always comes down to you. You and you alone.

You said you were afraid that you would break me and you promised you never would.

What is this all, then? Why haven't you owled? Or called, even? I know you know how to because your dad taught you and the rest of the family. You tried to call me that one time years ago and you nearly made me deaf, screaming into the phone like that. I daresay you know how to use a telephone properly, now.

You broke me. You've broken me. And yet you are the only one who can fix me.

You are full of contradictions.

The doorbell rings and I swear inwardly because Merlin, it's bloody late. And because whoever it is, they've interrupted my thoughts. About you. I cherish them because it's all I have left.

It rings again but I ignore it. Somewhere in the back of my mind I realize that if someone's contacting me now, this late, it's probably an emergency or very important. But all logic and common sense have been overclouded by memories of you.

I'm still sitting on the couch when I hear the lock click and the door open creakily. My hand goes to my wand and I turn my head and my heart starts beating fast enough to shake the earth.

It's you.

It's you and you look like hell and your eyes are red but it's you and nothing else matters.

You're muttering apologies and I can hear the desperation in your voice. You're quietly begging me to forgive you. And it's useless. Because I already have. I love you too much and that's my weakness.

I rise from the couch and the next thing I know I'm in your arms for the first time in what feels like a million years.

And I know this is where I belong. And this is what it all comes down to. You are what it all comes down to. You're always what it all comes down to.

You're holding onto me so tight that I can hear my bones creak. You're afraid that I'll leave you, runaway. But I won't. I would never. That was you. I would never be able to leave. And if I tried I know I would come crawling back on my knees because that's the effect you have on me.

You call me your Angel. You say you were stupid. You're still apologizing. I haven't said a word since you arrived and I'm afraid that this is all a dream that I'm about to awake from.

"I love you. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I love you so much," you whisper desperately into my ear. And I know that it's real and that you mean it and that I unquestionably, undeniably feel the same.

And I know that it's real and it's you and it's me and it's us.

I find my voice for the first time. It's soft and hoarse and choked up and hardly audible. But it tells you the words that couldn't be truer if you were gone for another lifetime.

"I missed you."