Lux [h.s]

fifty

Cora slammed the door of her bedroom and leaned against it in a foolish attempt to keep Harry out in the eventuality he chose to go after her. A sad smile curved her lips when she took notice of her own silly thoughts—he'd never gone after her, not even once. He usually was the one running away. She'd never properly chased him either, though. She'd tried to, but he'd won in the end. He'd always had more endurance than she did.

She could only hope she'd be better at avoiding him than she was at going after him. That was how it always seemed to be with them, one took a step forward and the other took a thousand backward, running after each other in a perpetual game of tag that did nothing but leave them breathless in the end.

They craved each other's company, but they were terrified of it at the same time. Cora didn't know what Harry's reasons were, but hers were compelling enough to her. She couldn't keep letting him give her false hope—her dignity and self-love had had enough of his fickleness.

But, despite everything, part of her wished she'd given in one last time. It missed all the moments she could've had with him, if only she hadn't pushed him away for once. It missed everything she knew she could never have. She knew it was silly, pointless, useless, but she still couldn't stop. She was sure both Harry and Thalia would've laughed at her if only they'd taken a peek into her thoughts. Knowing Thalia, probably she already was.

To her surprise, though, Harry did not go after her. She told herself it was because he wanted to give her some space, but a nagging thought at the back of her mind kept whispering that maybe he'd just forgotten about her altogether. About her, about the kiss, about every word she had said—about every word he had said.

After all, she was just a girl who had nowhere to go, and he had the entire world at his feet—or more like, after him, in that moment. Even as an outlaw, he had more purpose and direction in life than she did. He seemed to have an inner compass that pointed him in the right direction at all times, meanwhile Cora couldn't get more lost than she already was if she tried.

She stepped away from the door, sighing. Feeling so powerless made her fingers twitch in anger and her heart beat faster. If she were Harry, she was sure she'd be standing among the burning ruins of his residence by now.

Her eyes fell on the silver rose in the vase on the desk. She grabbed it and hurled it against the wall with a scream. It fell into pieces on the floor.

She was done with being compared to flowers.

She threw herself on the bed and pulled the blanket over her head, closing her eyes and wishing she could go back of an hour or two.

I do want you. There's nothing I want more than you. There's nothing I've ever wanted more than you. There's nothing I'll ever want more than you.

What right did he have to claim her like that? As if some nice words put together would be enough to take back all he'd said in the past months. Was he truly that foolish, or was his a pointless hope?

Cora smiled at her own stupidity. Soren had just arrived in the city, and yet there she was, worrying about whether Harry truly liked her back, or if it was just one of his usual moments in which he believed he owned the earth and the stars. The issue was, both the earth and the stars would've loved to be owned by him. It was why it was always so hard to think clearly when he was around. Distancing herself from him was like trying to go against the laws of nature.

He was spring and winter all in one, snow and blossoms, barren ground and forest. He was entrancing and exhausting at the same time, and Cora feared she didn't know what she wanted just as much as he did. She wanted him close but was afraid of being let down, she wanted him far away, but she wanted to smell his scent on her pillow.