swim || remus lupin

to build a home

My hands were shaking.

It was slight, no more than small trembling, but still, they were shaking.

I had my elbows bent at my waist so that my hands were floating in front of my torso. My fingers curled enough to bend each knuckle, though not enough for my fingertips to touch my palms. And they shook, my hands did.

They shook with the words I had just said. The words I could not, would not take back.

"I don't want this."

I said that.

And the phrase dropped like a rock from my chest and shattered into a million pieces, a million feelings, a million memories, right at my feet. Right under my hands.

I could not look up.

I could not look up because I had made a terrible mess and it was shattered all over the floor.

I could not look up because the pure horror I felt from what I said hardly came close to the way that my hands were seizing right before me.

I would not look up because Remus was sitting less than two feet away from me, and I didn't want to see the look on his face.

So, instead, I was watching my hands.

But then I noticed the ring.

I often forgot it was there. At this point it had just become a piece of me.

I wish I had forgotten it was there.

But I didn't.

So now I wasn't looking at the shattered mess or my shaking hands. I was looking at the golden ring wrapped around my left pinky.

The golden ring with a small R.L. and an even smaller wave. The golden ring that turned white when it connected with another, when it clicked with it's pair. The golden ring with a crystal tear, dripping around its band before falling to join the fragmented mess I had made.

"You don't mean that," said Remus, and I looked up.

He had his hands resting calmly in his lap, though a hint of gold could be seen peeking through his tangled fingers. His lips settled into a small frown, but I could tell he was pushing his teeth destructively into each other behind them. And his eyes were spilling.

The endless pools of golden light were rushing away, falling onto the floor with the shattered words and feelings and memories. And they were dripping crystal tears, too. And I noticed that one of them landed purposefully on his golden ring.

It will never be okay.

The phrase pierced through my head, rattling around and tearing through my brain and skull.

It will never be okay.

I don't want this.

It was a lie, the second phrase.