⫶⫶⫶ ᴇ ᴅ ᴇ ʟ y ɴ ⫶⫶⫶
― Edelyn Aurélia Black learned
from a young age that h e r o e s
aren't always the ones who win.
They're the ones who fight. And
so, Edelyn fights, until the green
lying dormant beh...
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HIS WORDS DRIFTED INTO SILENCE, and Edelyn simply stood there, arms limp at her sides, unsure of what to do. She wanted to be alone — she had told him such. She wanted him to leave her be and let her gather her own thoughts and feelings; let her recompose until these darned tears that welled in her eyes would go away. But as she felt the warmth of his bare skin against hers and heard the heavy thudding of his heart in his chest, she realized that perhaps, being alone wasn't what she wanted at all. Quite the opposite, in fact, for though she felt terribly vulnerable, with her heart worn on her sleeve, she felt safe, because this was Harry.
Squeezing her eyes shut, she brushed her palm against the back of his hand, then spun around and wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest and allowing a few stray tears to soak into his shirt. Relieved, Harry's body relaxed and he held her close to him, cheek rested against the side of her head.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled after a long while, pulling away slightly so as to look up at him. "I'm really sorry." She sniffed and drifted her eyes away, guilt wrenching at her insides.
Harry shook his head. "No, Lyn, I'm the one who should be apologizing. You didn't do anything wrong, and I shouldn't have — shouldn't have..." He swallowed thickly. "I shouldn't have made you feel bad about it, because you have nothing to feel bad for. I was just upset that you...you moved on so quickly."
"Moved on?" She knitted her brow in perplexion; all this time, while she had been drowning in her own insecurities, could he have been doing just the same? "Harry, I'm like Ron after Christmas turkey," she said. "I couldn't move if I wanted to."
A hint of a smile crossed Harry's lips, but it was short-lived. "It's just...You and Fred..." He dropped his gaze to the floor. "He knows you so well, and I sometimes feel like I...like I don't."
Edelyn frowned and moved her hands to rest on his shoulders, giving them a light squeeze as she said, "We grew up together, Harry. Of course, he knows me well, but so do Ron and Ginny and George—"
"Lyn, you know what I mean." He sighed softly. "You guys never argue, and we do. He always knows just what to say to you, and I act like a complete idiot around you. And the Shrieking Shack last year — those were his ideas, not mine." His voice was laced with mingled jealousy and self-doubt. "I guess I just wonder if maybe...If maybe we're not actually meant to be together."
Edelyn paused in thought; everything Harry had said was true, so terribly true, and she didn't quite know what to do. She had wondered it herself: whether everything they endured was even worth it. Whether the challenges they faced were all signs for them to break it off. And she felt so frustrated. Frustrated because everything would be so much easier with Fred — sweet, funny, charismatic Fred, who understood her better than she even understood herself. Fred, who smelt like gunpowder and who could always make her smile. Fred, who was simply perfect for her.
But then again, perhaps perfection wasn't grounds for a healthy relationship. Perhaps it is the imperfections that make two people meant for one another, for it is through the trials they face they can grow as people. And it was in that moment did Edelyn realize just why it was that Fred understood her and Harry didn't. It was because she always told him precisely how she felt and didn't play the game of reading between the lines. She was transparent with him, and perhaps, that's what she needed to be with Harry.
