I own nothing but my words.
my oblivion
sour kisses mark her body like surgically removed tattoos, always haunting her memory as proof they were once there but gone now, faded like the changing of the seasons. she feels them pulse on her skin even still, stinging & burning & leaving fiery trails of something she wishes she could explain.
she thinks about the way she used to love pulling his satin slytherin tie toward her & pressing her soft lips against his slightly chapped ones, throwing her into a state of complete oblivion. she felt so accomplished when he would tense & then relax into her. she wrapped her legs around his waist & goose-bumps ran up & down her arms, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end & she would quiver with content. he was an ocean she could drown & suffocate in, & when she woke up she saw yellow spots in her vision like foggy golden clouds mocking her from the ceiling above.
now, wind blows through rain-flecked shudders. she hears thunder crack & explode outside & she wishes that she can ride the lightening away from her dormitory & into the caliginous night. she imagines that the stars are beckoning her, winking & cradling her in their blanket of velvet sky.
but she lives in a fantasy. shrugging off the unattainable dream & rolling over in her bed. that's all it is, a dream & it's slowly fading away from her like autumn and it hurts. she urges herself to drink it all in, dive into the well of emotions where she knows she will find the answers she's looking for & finally be able to let it go.
tangles of tonques & grasping sweaty palms & slick heat & nibbling on earlobes & meaningless, forced i love you's. she feels his fingers trace around her bellybutton, tickling & making soft oh's of pleasure. she used to really enjoy running her hands through his white-blond hair & inhaling the soft wintergreen scent he radiated. it gave her something to hold on to, something real & solid & there.
now, she feels used up & washed out & drained & has nothing left to give to anybody. her slender fingers find their way to her stomach & she brushes them gently against her rib-cage, the rib-cage that's too hard & obvious & protruding nowadays. she knows she could be eating better but she doesn't want to anymore & that worries her. she likes being hungry & she likes knowing that she has control of something & she likes knowing she's deteriorating in the process.
she's dissolving like powdered pink lemonade in cold water.
it's almost morning when she realises the rain has stopped. she steps lightly to the open window, hoping, & looks out into the air as the first rays of sun filter against her trembling nude legs (she marvels at how she's always a bit cold, even during springtime) & sure enough, a hazy rainbow is fading against the slowly blueing sky around her. she watches for a moment, entranced the way she only is when she's falling into those gray eyes of his, but just then she hears his unsure voice in her head.
i'm not scared to die, mudblood. i'm not afraid one bit.
& she remembers that terrified look in his eyes as he fell to his knees, that expression that rips through her & pierces her heart with a thousand poisoned daggers; the look that showed her so painfully & so obviously, that he was afraid. he was so, so afraid.
& she's afraid too.
she snaps the window shut & pulls the plush maroon curtain over it, so deeply red that it reminds her of the trickle of blood she once watched dribble out of his mouth, & the room goes dark again.
dark, she thinks, as she curls her frail body into the fetal position & rocks back and forth, ignoring the ritualistic knocking on her door. her best friends for the life of them can't understand why his death has hit her so hard. after all, he was their enemy; just another bad guy. she doesn't expect them to understand. or maybe, she doesn't want them to.
she closes her eyes & the knocking echoes and fades into silence as her body, tingling with excitement, brings her someplace magical & alive & dark, someplace he can welcome her with that trademark smirk & open arms.
& when she wakes up, the curtains will be drawn & the room will still be tenebrous & shadowed.
dark, she'll think again, just the way she likes it.