Disclaimer: Belongs to JK Rowling




I know I tried to deny it. God, I held it in for so bloody long I felt like I was going to burst if I didn't let it out. How she can continue to walk around acting like my presence doesn't affect her, like hers affects me, I don't understand.

Every time I see her, I ache to touch her. When I do touch her I don't want to stop. It's a never-ending cycle, and what I get is never enough.

She kisses me, and then runs away after a frantic apology. Telling me later that she doesn't want to lead me on. How could she be leading me on? She never tells me what's going on.

She says she doesn't have any feelings towards me, but I say differently. She puts her all into our little moments together, just like she does everything else. It's not just a little transgression for her. She means it. I can tell.

She touches me shyly around her friends, disguising it as friendly. But they can't see the look in her eyes as her eyes meet mine. There is a heat there, a desire that they couldn't begin to imagine.

I have days where I've had enough. I just have to talk to her. Tell her how I feel about her. She pushes me away, telling me to let it go. It can't possible happen now, ever.

But the very next day, without fail she will be pulling me into some broom closet out of the way. Telling me this is the last time, but I can tell she is lying. Her words are lies. I see the fire in her eyes when we are alone together.

She's never letting me go.




In answer to the foreseen questions...I have no idea who it is...whoever you want it to be...