Chapter Eighty.

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A/N: slight warning of masturbation!

Neville sat, staring out his window, getting lost into the dark clouds that hovered above his home.

Neville felt nothing. He hadn't felt a single real emotion since he saw Sofia walk away with Frank for the last time. Everyday he would paw at his skin, making sure he was still alive. Because, truthfully, he felt dead. He felt lifeless.

"Neville! Lunch is ready!"

He snapped out of his trance, and turned his head to his door, "Coming!"

He sighed, and let his face fall into his hands.

Everything that surrounded him somehow reminded him of her. His scarf, his plants, his books, even his own sweater that he was wearing at the moment. He could feel her hands still touching it, playing with the collar. He could still feel every inch of her, and it played with his heart like a child played with their favorite toy.

"I'll break you." Sofia told him, expecting him to drop her hands and run away. But to her surprise, he didn't.

"You already have."

The memory made him feel stupid. He felt like an absolute idiot.

He wasn't broken then, he just felt like he was because he didn't have her. But, he got her. Neville Longbottom got what he wanted. But, she left. She really broke him this time.

"I'm not yours, Longbottom. Not yet..."

He stared into her eyes, his vision blurring a bit from the effects of the alcohol.

"You are, Sof. You're mine. You're mine forever."

Neville claimed her, even thought she didn't want to be claimed. She was right. He should've just stayed away from her.

He wanted her to be his, though. Every waking moment that she wasn't with him, it felt like the end of the world. And now? It really was the end of the world. Neville's world had come down around him, ever since she left him standing alone that day.

"Yes, Longbottom. I'm yours."

Neville reached up and gave her the sweetest kiss he could muster up, and he pulled her closer.

"You're mine."

Those words of hers kept repeating, over and over, torturing him.

"I'm yours."

"I'm yours."

"I'm yours."

Neville gripped onto his head, practically tearing his hair out.

"Stop..."

"Kiss me, Neville."

"Sof... please..."

He was pleading for all the memories to stop showing themselves. They were so loud, so painful.

"I love you, Neville..."

"Stop! Please, just stop!" he yelled, crying without even realizing it.

They finally stopped. Everything stopped.

A warm feeling came over him, and his heartbeat seemed to steady. His breathing slowed down, and his hands trembled.

No. This couldn't be happening.

SOFIA | ❨ NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM ❩ UNDER MAJOR EDITING!Where stories live. Discover now