Oliver

It had been two weeks since my first night staying with Marcus Flint. His harsh words had made me cry that first night but later in the same evening, he had come to me and asked me to eat with him. It had been like that day all those years ago when we were in school. Once again he had been my knight in shining armor. Ever since then, he hadn't really been much of an arse but he had his moments. No matter how rude he was, though, he always apologized in some awkward manner or another. Sometimes I wondered if he still hated me but that question was always quickly answered with a harsh word here and there. Honestly, it was like a damn roller coaster and I was getting sick of it.

The only time I was ever assertive or even aggressive was when I was dealing with anything Quidditch. Other than that, I was practically a doormat. I did what everyone asked and I always let others make decisions for me. I never argued or put my opinion out there unless asked. Sometimes people forgot I was even in the room. So, when I was treated like crap for a little while, I didn't mind too much. Eventually, though, I got tired of it. I had decided to confront him when I next saw him…which would be in an hour when he arrived back from a meeting at the Ministry.

For some reason, I felt it was necessary to look good for an argument. I took the time to check my very short hair in the mirror, pick out my best button-up shirt and dark jeans. I shook my head at my idiocy as I dressed myself. I had been wearing a simple t-shirt and old jeans but those had been quickly cast aside. I had just finished with the belt on my jeans after tucking in my shirt when I heard the front door open and shut. I quickly rolled up my sleeves and walked out into the living room, a slight frown on my face. Flint had just kicked off his shoes and tossed his keys aside when he saw me.

"What are you frowning about?" he grumbled, his eyes narrowing.

"Why? You really want to know why I'm frowning?" I returned the question with a slight attitude.

"Would I have asked if I didn't?" he shot back.

"You're the reason I'm frowning," I answered after a short pause.

"Oh really now? What did I do this time?" he hissed. The past two weeks I would give him a glare here and there when he agitated me. This was the first time I actually said anything.

"Everything," I hissed back.

"How in the hell could I have done everything wrong?" his hiss turned to a growl.

"Since I arrived here, you've done nothing but hurt me one time after another. Sure, you apologize but right after you do, you do something else to hurt me. Honestly, your mood swings are starting to piss me off and I'm not going to deal with it anymore. I don't know what your problem is but I'm certain your problem is with me. If I 'm right, then you need to go ahead and spit it out. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life married to you and raising a child with you while you're constantly putting me down. It simply isn't going to happen. I would rather receive the Dementor's kiss before having to live my life in misery," I snapped, the volume of my voice increasing as I ranted.

When I was done, his eyes were slightly wide which was surprising. He was always either extremely angry and shouting when he argued with someone or he was calm and sarcastic. This silent side of Flint was worrisome. Not to mention the face that he looked sort of…sad. His eyes seemed to focus on an invisible spot of some sort on the floor. He simply refused to look at me and his face seemed to grow more and more upset. Just as I was about to ask what was wrong, he looked up with narrowed eyes. His face was now a mixture of pain, anger and sorrow. I didn't know which emotion he was feeling more.

"I don't think you know what hurt really is," he hissed quietly. I felt as if he had just slapped me with all the strength in his body.

"What did you just say to me?" I asked quietly, eyes wide. Suddenly I was numb and I didn't know what to feel.

"I said that I don't think you know what hurt really is," he hissed again, his eyes narrowing more.

"How could you say something so cruel?" I asked, whispering now.

"How could I say something so cruel? Did you really just ask me that? I don't even think you know what cruel is! You asked what my problem was, well, I'll tell you. You're my problem. You're why I'm angry all the time. It's your fault!" he shouted, fists clenched, his knuckles turning white.

"How is it my fault?" I asked, my voice catching in my throat.

"Don't play coy with me. You know damn well what you did to me," he growled.

"If I knew, I wouldn't have asked!" I shouted, fighting tears. His eyes widened a bit before narrowing again.

"Then I really must have meant nothing to you…and you call me heartless. You have no idea, you foul prick," he hissed, hurt becoming more apparent than anger in his voice.

I was shocked. What on earth was he talking about? He meant nothing to me? Why was he referring to himself in past tense? Adding to my shock was confusion and, slowly, panic. I had no idea what was going on. I might as well just go ahead and voice my confusion.

"I don't understand…" I let my voice trail off.

"What don't you understand?" he snapped.

"I don't understand what you mean! You're over there talking about meaning nothing to me in the past tense! What on earth are you referring to?" I asked, hoping I wasn't joining him in sounding like a loon. He was silent again before answering.

"When we were just boys…I heard everything…you and one of the twins…and after you said…forget it! It's not like you give a damn anyway!" he snapped and shoved his feet back in his shoes before stomping out of the apartment and slamming the door shut.

When we were boys? He heard everything? Me and one of the twins? I said something? What the hell was he on about? Unless…he couldn't be referring to that night, could he? I didn't even know he knew about what happened! Slowly, as things were starting piece themselves together, I debated going after him. If I did, he would probably lash out and just get even more angry. If I didn't…would it just be hurting him more?

DunDunDun…

Marcus

It had been two weeks since Oliver Wood moved into my flat. I had made him cry the first night he stayed with me but I tried my best to fix it. No matter what, though, I always seemed to fuck up and hurt him again. After I hurt him, I would try and make him feel better. Somehow I managed to cheer him up and then I would hurt him again not long afterwards. I just didn't know how to ac t around him. I was still in love with the guy but at the same time, it hurt just to look at him. Every time I laid eyes on the git, I thought about all those times we had been together in school and then that one day where everything fell apart.

Spending all day at the Ministry, coupled with my abnormally depressing thoughts, had just pissed me off. I wanted nothing more to get back to my flat, sip on a nice hot cuppa and the sulk in the shower. To finish off my ideal night, I would curl up in bed and drift off into a dreamless sleep. Too bad things never go as planned or as you want them to. I had just walked through my door, kicked off my shoes and tossed my keys on the kitchen counter when a frowning Wood presented himself to me. I just couldn't wait to find out what I had done wrong this time.

"What are you frowning about?" it came out more as a grumble than a sigh. What? I was tired. Cut me some slack.

"Why? You really want to know why I'm frowning?" he returned the question with a light snap. What the hell?

"Would I have asked if I didn't?" I answered with my own little snap. Two could play that game.

"You're the reason I'm frowning," he answered after pausing for a moment.

"Oh really now? What did I do this time?" I asked, ready for this argument to be over with. Over the past two weeks he had done nothing more than glare when I did something to irritate him. I was kind of shocked by this unexpected behavior.

"Everything," he hissed at me. He was actually hissing at me.

"How in the hell could I have done everything wrong?" I growled at him. Why was he being such an arse? Was this payback?

"Since I arrived here, you've done nothing but hurt me one time after another. Sure, you apologize but right after you do, you do something else to hurt me. Honestly, your mood swings are starting to piss me off and I'm not going to deal with it anymore. I don't know what your problem is but I'm certain your problem is with me. If I 'm right, then you need to go ahead and spit it out. I'm not going to spend the rest of my life married to you and raising a child with you while you're constantly putting me down. It simply isn't going to happen. I would rather receive the Dementor's kiss before having to live my life in misery," he snapped, the volume of his voice increasing as he ranted.

My eyes were wide. That had certainly been more unexpected than the initial argument. I didn't mean to hurt him, honest. That was farthest from my mind. All the snappy little comments just sort of…came out. Then again, every time I said something hurtful, I always thought about that night when he broke my heart. That night had changed everything…and now he was telling me that all I did was hurt him and that he would rather receive the Dementor's kiss than spend the rest of his life with me. Could I possibly be any worse of a human being? Wait, I could…I could do what he did to me…now was it. Now was the time to see if he remembered anything. All the anger, pain and sorrow that had been building up in me for years was starting to surface. I don't know if the floodgates would hold. Slowly I brought my now narrowed eyes up from the floor to stare him in the eye.

"I don't think you know what hurt really is," I hissed so quietly, it could have been a whisper. His eyes went wide and his body went rigid. You would thought I slapped him by the look on his face.

"What did you just say to me?" he asked quietly. Perhaps I had just put him in a state of shock.

"I said that I don't think you know what hurt really is," I let out another hiss and narrowed my eyes more.

"How could you say something so cruel?" he asked, whispering now. Like he had any right asking me something like that.

"How could I say something so cruel? Did you really just ask me that? I don't even think you know what cruel is! You asked what my problem was, well, I'll tell you. You're my problem. You're why I'm angry all the time. It's your fault!" I shouted at him. All my anger was starting to bubble over and I had to clench my fists to keep from punching the wall. My knuckles were starting to turn white and I could feel my blunt nails digging into my palms.

"How is it my fault?" he asked. His voice caught in his throat and a slight bit of guilt stabbed at my heart.

"Don't play coy with me. You know damn well what you did to me," I growled, trying to mask the sense of self-loathing that was starting to bubble up.

"If I knew, I wouldn't have asked!" he shouted. I could see the tears starting to blur his vision. What had I done? My eyes widened but then I felt another wave of my own pain and I narrowed my eyes again.

"Then I really must have meant nothing to you…and you call me heartless. You have no idea, you foul prick," I hissed, hurt becoming more apparent in my voice than I would have liked. There was silence as the pained look morphed into something that was a mixture of pain, confusion and shock.

"I don't understand…" his voice trailed off.

"What don't you understand?" I snapped.

"I don't understand what you mean! You're over there talking about meaning nothing to me in the past tense! What on earth are you referring to?" he asked, desperation starting to slide its way into his voice. I was silent.

It was true. He didn't remember what he did to me. He didn't understand why looking at him, talking to him, living with him and dreaming about him hurt me so much. He couldn't possibly understand why I was so upset. Maybe I could give him a small clue. Would it make a difference?

"When we were just boys…I heard everything…you and one of the twins…and after you said…forget it! It's not like you give a damn anyway!" I had started to try and form a coherent explanation but then I thought better of it. I just wound up snapping again and shoving my feet in my shoes. I vaguely remember grabbing my keys before slamming the door behind me as I stormed down the hall.

Why should he give a damn about me? He wouldn't come after me. He didn't care a thing about me. He wouldn't try to find me at the small park down the road. He wouldn't bother trying to piece together the information I had given him. He would probably just go about his day with that stupid expression on his idiotic face. I could feel the tears starting to sting my eyes as I walked down the road in the chilly weather. I probably should have grabbed a warmer jacket but honestly, who would care if I froze to death in this chill? Certainly not Oliver Wood. I had a bigger heart than he thought and when he tore it pieces…it never stitched itself back together.

DunDunDun…

Phew. I just wrote this chapter today v.v today has been a very emotional day for me and I almost didn't write this chapter. Thankfully I managed. It may be utter crap and I apologize v.v Still, I hope to post Chapter 5 sometime soon. Who knows? Anyway, I thank all of my supporters and I continue to ask that you bear with me.

Love,

Hannya (^_^)