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Story: Melted Orange Swirl
Summary: (TheoHermioneDraco) Hermione writes Draco a letter to apologise for leaving him for Theo.
Elena: Love this fic. Dedicated to Danneiiiiiii. Because she rocks my purple-pink-black-white toe socks. Yes, dear, they are cute.
Melted Orange Swirl
Dear Draco,
"No, that simply won't do." I said to myself, tossing the paper to the floor. "He deserves better. Much better than me. Much better than what I've been doing to him."
"Then tell him that he does, Hermione." His deep voice said.
I wanted to strangle him. I wanted to beat him over the head with a metal bat and watch his blood trickle into the bathroom drains. But I slumped my head over the toilet, aching for something to come out of my stomach-although it was no use-I hadn't eaten a thing.
"I can't! Don't you realise how hard this is?" I tore another piece of paper from my notebook.
Dearest, Lovely, Adoring Draco,
I don't know what to say to you, but I'm sorry for the selfishness and prudence of my ways. Our relationship was something-it honestly was. I know you can figure out what I'm writing about. You aren't that stupid to not have noticed, nor could you have not figured out what this usual heading leads to.
But I'm not sorry.
I mean, I have lost sleep over thinking of us. I have cried over us and what we couldn't fix. What I couldn't fix. Simply know that I will always love you-just not nearly as much as you deserve. And for that, I write this. I can feel what you're feeling-you are me now, Draco. You are us. It is not that I am him-I will never be him like I was you, but he knows what I feel just as well as you did, and you don't deserve anything like I've given you. There should be better things and store, but I cannot give them to you.
"Stop it." I cried, pushing him away from me. "Just let me write my letter and leave me be-don't touch me, please." I begged of him. I may have loved him more than Draco-dear, sweet, lovely, adoring, passionate Draco-but it did me no good having him around while trying to spill my feelings. It simply did not work.
"I am sorry, Hermione." He said, and I wanted to laugh. He wasn't really sorry; that's how well I know him. He was getting his way and being sympathetic-because he thought that was what I wanted him to do. But I didn't. Sometimes, I wanted him to be Draco.
I feel you next to me, Draco. I can still taste your lips against mine-I remember the last time that it happened. We were up late watching movies and you had absolutely begged of my Orange Swirl icecream, but it was mine and I wouldn't give it up. When I have finally given it to you, you had left it for me-and we tangled along the couch, into the room-onto the bed.
And I remember-we got up about an hour later, and you had eaten that ice cream-and kissed me goodnight. Sometimes I wake up from nightmares, Draco, and I taste melted orange swirl in the corners of my mouth-mixed with that awful smell and wonderful taste of salty cashews-but it does the orange swirl no justice. I do you no justice, Draco. I truly am hurt by what has happened. I can't be sorry.
I won't be sorry.
I will never be sorry for what happened-because even you knew that it was approaching. You knew it was to happen and I bet you even accepted the fact that I wouldn't always be yours or here for you at all. I bet you've moved on and completely forgotten about me-that's okay-but I can never forget you and your melted orange swirl.
"Please leave." I asked. I felt tears in my eyes and I slipped in and out of consciousness in the next few seconds, so my mind was a blur, but I knew what had happened. My depression was kicking in and I didn't want it to.
"Please leave." I repeated, but it only gave him leverage to come closer. "Leave me alone!" I exclaimed, tears clouding my eyes. "I need to do this alone." I choked out through my tears, and my stomach clenched-the feeling of vomit. But it never came. Bile never rose in my throat-only the tase of melted orange swirl and salted cashews.
"I can't do this anymore..." I whined to myself, ignoring his arms around me, ignoring his pleas to send the letter unfinished.
I hope you are well, Draco. I hope your mind is not overcome with the traitorous thoughts of what I have done to you-I wish it hadn't happened that way-I wish it was you next to me and him I was writing this dreadful letter to-but then again, I don't. I know you loved me, but I wasn't right for you. You deserved better than what I was-what I could ever be.
You will always be in my life. I will never forget what we had-what we were or what we shared. If I could go back in time, although, I would chose to never have this happen the way it did-I would be smart and clear my path. But, I suppose, destiny is destiny. I suppose fate is fate and suffering is suffering, and for that, I can do nothing but wish you luck in life.
Sincerely,
Hermione
Finally, it came. The vomit; finally. I was cleansed and my stomach unclenched, he rubbed my back and held back my hair. I sat up and cleaned my mouth, brushed my teeth, and looked into the toilet, where orange swirls flushed away and the taste of melted orange swirl and salty cashews filled my mouth.
And I brushed my teeth all night-but the feeling would not go away. I suppose it could just be a forewarning of a nightmare to come-so I followed him to bed and tried to get to sleep-my thoughts watching a bowl of melted orange swirl, next to a can of cashews.
Melted Orange Swirl
