Unrequited; a lexical dagger that sharpens itself on the wounds of your pain and delves deeper into the parts of your heart that you didn't even know you were capable of, because you grew up a Black and Blacks are callous in every sense of the word.

You ran away; you escaped the family you never wanted and who you never understood, yet some Black blood still pulses in your veins. It may be diluted by the Potter and the Pettigrew and the Lupin influence, but it is still there and it always will be. It is there in every derisive sneer, every vanity fuelled snobbery, and it was definitely there when you sent Snape to the Shrieking Shack. You struggle to even convince yourself that that was merely a joke.

There are reasons you will never tell him about how you feel; why you will never even take the chance that he might love you back. But they all boil down to one reason, ultimately: he is too good for you. You are insidious cruelty that lingers in the mind of an exhausted seventeen year old; the thoughts that are too old and too cynical for one so young and so beautiful. You are too much energy and too much enthusiasm, and it worries you that no one has ever noticed that maybe you are just a bit too constantly happy; it makes you wonder if anyone even cares, really.

But him... He is beauty in chocolate stains on shabby robes and dog-eared books strewn lazily around a haphazardly organised dormitory. He pronounces words wrong because he has only ever read them, and he mutters corrections of the teacher only under his breath because he cannot stand confrontation; even the classroom kind. He is quiet and unassuming, and he makes your breath hitch when his eyes crinkle in a smile that palpably questions how he was ever lucky enough to find friends.

Your feelings survive on stolen glances and subsequent smiles that are hidden behind a textbook. You are a paradoxical entity; his proximity is the epitome of not being able to live with or without.

You are doing this right now; staring at him from across a crowded common room. There are girls angling for your attention somewhere, but they don't matter. His attention is avidly in another world; a torn book that compels his attention and transports him somewhere else.

His brow furrows; but then he just looks up at you and smiles. It is small and shy and for your eyes only. Unrequited has a pseudonym, and its name is Remus Lupin.