Title: Things Better Left Unsaid, part 2
Author: Mrs. RT aka ccmom
Rating: M
Pairing: Harry/Draco
Word Count: 583 words
Disclaimer: Not mine! Bows down and worships at the feet of JKR.
Summary: Some things are best not said, acted upon, or done.
I'm tired now. I find myself wondering when I became this way. I wasn't always. There was a time when I was happy and carefree, but that was so long ago I can't seem to recall many details. Now, however, now I'm just numb.
I find myself going through the motions with you. Did you realize we had a script to follow? No, you probably didn't. If it doesn't involve You-Know-Who, then it doesn't exist in your world. Does it? If you suddenly found yourself with the choice between the war and me which one would you pick? The fact that I have to ask tells me what I need to know. Doesn't it? I've always been last on your priorities. Image that. Me! Last. Probably right there after whichever creature you've 'adopted' this week. Do you see me here? What do I have to do to get you to notice me?
You know that habits are hard to break and you've been my habit for so long now, it's almost instinct versus conscious choice. There's nothing worse than knowing that something's wrong but being unable to fix it or afraid of trying and failing. We've been stuck in our roles for so long, I'm afraid we'll never be free. Don't you feel it coming in on us? The pressure to maintain this façade is crushing. Why can't we just be who we really are?
I see you laughing across the hall with your friends. Did you realize that your smile doesn't reach your eyes? Yet you continue on with this game, maintaining your appearances. I know all about that. I pretend all of the time. Pretending to be someone I'd rather not be. Pretending that the way things are doesn't bother me; that I've become untouchable because of who I am. I'm tired of pretending because it takes too much out of me. It makes me feel even colder than I was before.
I'm not tired now. Now I'm angry; angry with myself. I just need to change this. I will not be weak like this. I'll be strong. My anger makes me feel strong enough to want things and I'll do what I want. Like how I want to throw things across the room at you and shatter this illusion of fakeness that we all contribute to. I want to scream at the top of my lungs about how the real world is out there, but we're too busy hiding in here, pretending. Never stopping or deviating from the script. Just once I'd like to have things my way.
Why can't I have this one simple thing? What do I have to do? Why don't you tell me? Oh for crying out loud, when did I become such a girl? So you've become everything to me, so what? I'm not going to go to you and beg. I'm not so desperate for you touch that I'll come crawling and pleading for your forgiveness, you're attention. I can pretend that I can't image the feel of you against me; the heat from your body and the strength of your arms. You'll come to me eventually, I know it. I pray for it.
I need to break the habit of my having feelings for you. I know that once my obsession is over, you'll become aware of me then. Once I don't want you anymore. You'll pay attention. Once I don't want you anymore, maybe then, just maybe then, you'll love me too.