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Author of 314 Stories |
I'm sitting here. Staring into the dying embers of the fire as the outside sky remains dark and lightless. Starless. Empty.
My thoughts haven't calmed down in the hours since I first sat down. They still dash around up there like fish fleeing from predators.
Except that they are the predators.
The light from the once-strong fire still burns my eyes. Spots of color dance in the empty fireplace. I continue to gaze blindly at the pile of soot and burning ash.
The sun might rise soon.
This has been my one prayer since it first disappeared behind the trees. Gone. From me. My one thread of hope. Something to grasp until my fingers bleed. The sun might rise soon.
I've spent the entire night here. On the couch. My eyes in the exact same spot. Furniture and portraits have blended into one mix of color and shape. Everything is hazy and blurred.
I've been trying to find a shard of how was. Before this. All of this. Before him.
But so far all I've found is his face. Smiling back at me from the deepest crevices of my mind. No matter how hard I try to blot it out. It's still there. I can sense the corners of his lips curled up into a shy grin, blonde hair falling over his eyes.
Sometimes that hair is brown. And the eyes are green. But it is always him.
He still brings the same feeling. The same bubble of emotion, the same nervous feeling that stretches from my toes to my hairline. The static electricity that sends shivers up my spine. Just the way it did when he was still here.
Just the way it does whenever Harry is nearby.
They have been torn from their independent identities and become on entity. One person. Two faces.
Two faces bearing the innocence of youth. Two faces bearing the shadow of burden. Of hardship.
Of life.
Lately, only one of those faces has had this burden.
My feet are treading on dangerous ground. Continued steps forward will bring the need for more. And those will do the same.
Like a train wreck. If one car goes, the rest are gone as well.
I wonder how long I've been derailed. How long I've had this feeling, this confusion, this unsure grip on life. How long I've been teetering on the edge of reality and dream.
His eyes still haunt my dreams. Sparkling blue oceans, filled to the brim with emotion, regret, and silent shouting. Shouting words that I don't understand.
Eyelids close. When they open again, the eyes are green. They glisten and dance, smiling shyly at me. But behind the merriment, behind the tainted boyishness, resides a thick black curtain that I cannot penetrate. A curtain covering depths that even Cedric's eyes cannot measure up against. A curtain that tells me how much innocence has been lost.
It hurts more to see the green eyes than the blue.
The blue eyes are a part of me. Everywhere I turn, I see out of his eyes. Cedric's eyes.
But the green...
The green eyes are fathomless. They are infinite. They are alive.
They have a life of their own. Even the boy who owns them cannot hide what they say. He can't muffle the volumes that they yell at the top of their voice, the melodies that are harmonized and let out in greater volume with every blink.
The blue eyes cry at the sight of the green.
The blue eyes feel a spark of jealousy. Of betrayal.
Mine.
My betrayal to Cedric and his memory. My unwitting, unintentional disloyalty.
Treachery nonetheless. Treachery that cuts across Cedric's perfect face and slashes mercilessly at his mind. Treachery that leaves scars and blood running into his eyes.
The eyes that are shouting the whole time, shouting silent words that I cannot grasp.
Green and blue have merged into one. Harry and Cedric no more – they are both now singular: they are now Him. There is no 5th year Gryffindor and 6th year Ravenclaw. There is only Him.
The last of the burning coal has died. The room is dark and as hopeless as the sky. The empty sky that bears no light.
It's dark yet, but the sun might come soon.