Cracked Mirrors | Remus Lupin

𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 | 𝐑

Story 4 | You Won't Remember

"... Right person, wrong time. Doesn't it feel like that about him?"

"More like the wrong lifetime. If you could call it the right choice."

The voices in her head were having a fierce debate, effortlessly worsening her headache as she paced the length of the room with quick, impatient steps. Anxiety was coursing through her veins like a relentless current, threatening to overwhelm her more and more with each passing minute.

She already knew the conclusion of that daunting conversation. He was the right choice, but falling in love would never go well, specially if it was about her. With her.

Even the thought of it was impossible. He couldn't love her. He shouldn't. He couldn't fall for someone who couldn't even tolerate herself most of the time, let alone reciprocate an ounce of his affection.

A new sense of trepidation gripped her heart as the soft strains of music mingled with muffled chatterings and floated all the way down the deserted room. She was hiding far away from the grand hall, but there was no running away from the fact that the ceremony had already started and it meant everyone was there. It was going to be too crowded for her liking.

Y/N paused for a moment and inhaled deeply, trying to defuse the tension that was bubbling inside her and pushing her to run away from all the people that were a mere walk away from her. Her mind was killing her slowly.

How could he have done this?

In all of their late night talkings, in all of the days they'd spent together, she had tried to talk him out of his decision. She had tried to convince him that she wasn't the right choice for him and it would simply be the biggest mistake of his life if he kept on loving her. 

She was hopeful that without revealing too much about the demons that lived within her, he had already decided to back off and look for another girl who could love him back. She wasn't the one who could love him, because she didn't know who she was without her damned thoughts.

And she was almost sure it was over.

Until she saw him about half an hour ago.

Y/N didn't mean to stop, but the door to his room was left ajar and she had just arrived. Thinking that a simple greeting wouldn't hurt, she raised a hand to knock on the door, but she stopped herself mid air when her eyes caught sight of what he was holding in his hand. His back was on her, but she had already memorized that small leather wallet of his. He used to keep a picture of her in it.

And his shoulders were shaking silently.

Even after walking away from that scene, she couldn't wipe the picture off her mind. The lump in her throat couldn't ease off. The realization was painful, almost unbearable. "He was crying." "He was crying because of you." "Do you even deserve those tears?" "You know you don't."

She was drowning in those relentless shouts that kept on echoing in her head without a pause.

Yeah, her mind was definitely killing her slowly.

She used to be sure of her answer. But now that he had disregarded all the signs and warnings, now that she had seen him tucking that wallet back in his pocket along with a small, velvety box, she didn't know what to do.

Part of her was selfish, wanting so badly to keep him and his undeniable love for herself until the end of the world. Because she could feel how caring and devoted and unmatched that man was. He was more than she could ever ask for. The other part of her was selfless, knowing that they couldn't work it out and stop that fragile bond from falling apart someday. Because he had no idea how the demons in her head could turn his dreams into nightmares.