Delirious

The way that you smell, oh God, everything that smells like you reminds me of the way you smell. Just a hint of something that smells like you, or a scent that filled the air during the times I spent with you. The smell of rain, fresh, just fallen, just started falling. The smell of a lake and a sycamore tree that sits beside it. The smell of a wonderful, filling feast that's never tasted because you were more than enough of a feast for me. Sometimes, the smell of chocolate. Sparks. Parchment. Ink.

It was everything. Everything had some of you in it.

I could feel you next to me. The touch of your cold, pale hand on my cheek. I turned my head to face you, to see you, but you weren't really there. I knew you weren't really there. It was unhealthy for me to let the delusions linger, but I hardly cared anymore.

Why did I miss something that was bad for me? I can't count how many times I've cried over you. The pain of not being able to be with you, even if we were together. All the times that you had to act like you hated me. Sometimes, I could've sworn, there wasn't even a glint of remorse in your eyes. It sickened me. You hurt me without even trying.

When I look at the cloudy sky, it reminds me of your eyes--your grey, sad eyes. Deep inside your soul you pleaded for my help. At every mention of me helping you, you would either leave or just kiss me. You didn't want to be reminded of that fact that you were doing everything against what I was.

Here I am, lying on the grass in the middle of a field, just waiting for something to happen. Just waiting for a horcrux to fall out of the sky, I suppose. There's nothing more I can do. I'm feeling hopeless.

Then, I remember the look on your face the night that Dumbledore died. You looked so terrified. There were tears coating your lashes. Even a few feet away from you, I could see you'd been crying. You didn't want what awaited you--what you are suffering now.

I wondered what you were doing now, if there was any chance that you might have been thinking about me. Were were you? What could I do to see you? Would I ever see you again? What would happen if I did see you?

I almost didn't want to find out.