Ophelia [a.m]

𝖉𝖊𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖊

  You stood down at the castle's entrance.

  So pale I thought you were one of the ghosts.

  You've always been my ghost, I guess. Always lurking and haunting me with those eyes of yours.

  I've never spent longer than ten minutes with you.

  Isn't that funny?

  All these years and we're still practically strangers.

  Will you let me know you?

  I want to.

  I want to know every inch of your being.

  I want to know the thoughts in your head and why you have them.

  I want to know how your heart works and if it's your ally or your foe.

  I want to know all of you.

  I stopped about a foot away, you looked down at me. Unsure of yourself.

  You held out your arm.

  What made you change your mind?

  Why do I make things so difficult?

  You don't have to answer that.

  But I want to know.

  Giving me a small smile, you looped your arm with mine and the world upended.

  I was being torn - ripped apart. Mushed back together only to be divided across our existence before we landed on a street.

  That's how I always felt when I was near you.

  This isn't Malfoy Manor.

  You shook your head.

  It's a Muggle hotel.

  You weren't looking at me.

  You're ashamed.

  I can't blame you.

  Everywhere I went a scandal would be at my heels like a lion.

  I'm every purebloods favorite harlot.

  A pretty arm piece that's alluring because it's dangerous and different.

  I'm angelic when I'm not supposed to be.

  And they hate me for it.

  Scotty, Riddle... and now you.

  How will you choose to ordain me?

  I only ask one thing of you.

  Treat me gently.

  I fear I'm on the verge of breaking.

  You led us inside, the hotel was very extravagant.

  Gatsby surely added his touch.

  My heart flickered at the notion that perhaps I was your Daisy.

  We were destined for ruin, I was sure of it.

  How could this ever work?

  We reached the clerk and your mouth worked it's own magic, your charming demeanor slipping out in such a sultry way I wasn't used to seeing.

  I knew you weren't completely wicked.

  Not yet.

  There's good in you, if you know where to look.

  I knew you threw my ex down the stairs.

  Twice.

  I smile at the thought and catch you blushing.

  We have a room.

This is nice.

  Such a large bed.

  It could've been mistook for a throne.

  You were silent and I turn.

  You look lost.

  I don't know what I'm doing.

  Neither do I.

  Then why'd you come?

  Why'd you ask?

  You're quiet again.

  Tapping your fingers along a plush chair as you step closer.

  You told me to have a Happy Christmas.

  It wasn't a demand, Abraxas.

  You look at me then and I'm rooted.

  I want you kiss me but I feel it'll have the same effect as a Dementor.

  If you kiss me I know I'm done for.

  My soul will be yours and I'll rot.

  Just this once, you began, I want to be happy on this godforsaken holiday.

  Somethings wrong.

  You're acting like this is a goodbye, a farewell.

  To what?

  To me?

  You smile.

  You think too much.

  If only you knew.