Ever since this began, I was blessed with a curse.
xXx
Because everything I touch turns to stone.
So wrap your arms around me, and leave me, I can't hold on.
xXx
Take back every word I've said, ever said to you.
Take back every word I've said, every word I've said.
- Blessed With A Curse
He waited for her. Hours. Sitting in the same spot in the garden. The sun stretched to its height in the sky, sank to the ground, dipped beneath the horizon. The moon slipped into the darkness, stars twinkled peacefully, splayed across the velvet as her hair across black sheets. He felt more like an apparition than ever. A sort of numbness pervaded his very being, yet at the same time, a dull ache had reached into every part of his body. As though his soul were in pain but he'd spent so long in denial of its existence that he wasn't quite connected to it properly.
The night passed in a never-ending blur. And then the sun was rising, bleeding slowly across the darkness. The moon faded in the sky's growing brightness, which washed the blood carefully away. And still Draco sat. He wasn't ever aware that he was waiting. He only knew he didn't care to move. And so he remained.
She arrived that evening, as the sun buried itself once more beneath the ground, returning sooner than usual. As though she subconsciously knew. Knew that something called for her presence. She looked beautiful, even with the concern marring her pretty features as she came upon him in the garden. One last time, he thought, as his heart and his body filled with longing. But no. No 'last time'. It had to end. To end now.
She didn't say anything, and the concern soon faded to a wary sort of understanding, her eyes filling with resignation.
Draco stared at her, drinking in her every feature, committing each carefully to memory. Trying to force his mouth to form the words. Over. But they froze, before even reaching his throat, and shattered to dust. And so he continued to stare.
She shook her head, smiling a sad smile, and helped him to his feet, leading him into the Manor. He wasn't sure why he let her. Save that her hand felt good in his, and that a part of him couldn't help but remember that he'd never feel her touch again once she let go. He pulled her onto the couch beside him, still holding her hand, still unable to speak. His mouth opened. Once. Twice. Nothing. A tiny spark of frustration kindled in his abdomen.
Carefully she withdrew her hand from his. "You found it, then?"
"Found what?" The words a small triumph.
"Your heart, Draco," she whispered.
"It makes no difference." His tone was icier than he'd meant for it to be.
She smiled that sad smile again. "It makes all the difference."
A contemplative nod. He supposed she was right.
"I'll miss you." And then she was gone. Quietly. No tears. No kiss goodbye. No pleading for him to change his mind. No clarification that it even was his mind.
And he was once more left to his empty solitude.