14.
7.30.11
Cranberry Cream
AlbusOC
fatality, seaspray, illuminate
He saw her everywhere. She was in every drop of saltwater of the seaspray that the breeze blew in his face when he was at Uncle Bill's (spraying on his face like the rainwater from her hair as she spun around in circles after a storm). She was in the fruit salad that Aunt Hermione made when he was at her house (her lips were the precise shade as the cranberries sprinkled on his plate). She was in the shadows in the corners of his room that the lamp couldn't illuminate (she had always liked the darkness better than the light). She was in the frothy cream at the top of his morning coffee (it always clung to her mouth and nose no matter how carefully she sipped it). She was everywhere, it didn't matter where he went or how he tried to escape. She was in everything he did and he tried, by God he'd tried so hard to tell himself that if he'd only known of the fatality of love, of how much it'd haunt him when it was over, he wouldn't have bothered with her, but he couldn't.
Albus couldn't say she wasn't worth it, because that would be a lie.