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⋄︎︎ ⬫︎︎ ⋄︎︎ ⥊ ⬫︎︎ ⚯͛ ⬫︎︎⥊ ⋄︎︎ ⬫︎︎ ⋄︎︎
Always an angel, never a god
“I’m not her… “
She whispered, looking down at the roaring, nearly black ocean below them. Her knees were against her chest as she hugged her legs.
She could feel him behind her – His presence was magnetic, a captivating force that always drew her in.
He was silent, but she could always tell what he was thinking. It didn't matter if things were different, no one was going to know him better than her.
“I'm never going to be that girl, Harry. You should know that."
She looked over at him, hoping to catch his gaze, only to find him looking ahead of her. His green eyes, once bright and lively, now dark and dull like the stormy sea. His dark hair blew with the wind and she bit the inside of her cheek, glancing away.
"I know,” he whispered. She closed her eyes and placed her face between her knees. "I never expected you to be.”
But you miss her, she thought. She sensed the ache in his voice, the longing in his silence. He didn’t need to say it, she heard it anyway.
The ocean was loud as it hurled itself against the shore with furious force. It sprayed and spit foam into the air as the wind howled and whipped, bending the trees and tearing the clouds. The sky was a dark and ominous canvas as the storm grew closer, a visible adaptation of what she was feeling.
How do you live up to the past version of yourself? The one everyone loved?
How she longed to return to the past, to the fateful day that altered everything. If she could only undo what had been done, perhaps they would still love her the way they used to – the way he used to.
She raised her head as he moved beside her, settling on the ground. His eyes finally met hers, and she saw a flicker of the old tenderness. But it was dimmed by doubt and wariness. She felt a pang at the unfamiliarity in his eyes, as if he was gazing at someone he barely knew.
Oh, how she wished it wasn't true.
Harry reached forward and brushed his fingers against her cheek. It took everything in her not to break down at the fondness he showed her.
“That doesn't change anything," he whispered as she leaned against his hand. “You're still my girl."
They both knew that was a lie, but in times like these, it was comforting to believe it – to believe she was the girl he fell in love with.
