A/N: All right. This is my third copy of this story. The poem lines (in bold/italic) are from a poem I've written randomly called "Cry for your Kisses" and it seemed to fit my happy (Hah!) little story. This should be the final copy, because I've edited this thing at least three times. Draco is viewpoint.
Oh, and one last thing.. Title=feeling of the chapter, Subtitle=actual title.
....If you felt what I felt.....
....I wouldn't be crying....
-Life as Usual-
I used to cry and hate my life.
Now I don't cry and hate it more.
I stare out of the window, where if this was the movies, raindrops like my tears would be dripping down the window. What tears? What rain? The sun burns brightly outside my window and all that is on my face is a frozen stare.
She eluded me. She. The woman I loved. Hermione Granger. I used to cry alone over her. Late at night, in the bathroom, almost every night. Because she wouldn't have me. She knew I wanted her so badly, and she wouldn't have me.
Way back when, in school. We sparred, glared, ignored one another-she even slapped me once. Every moment, every moment she knew I wanted her. I loved her.
Unrequited love is bad. Silently refused love is worse.
Every time I saw her, I wanted her more. She made it often that I saw her. She called me a jerk, laughed at my pain. Sadistic, beautiful, twisted, charming bitch.
I couldn't help but be pulled helplessly towards her with her every tease, yet.. with every cutting remark she pushed me farther into hopelessness.
There's a knock at the door. I curse violently under my breath, and then I open the door.