My Slytherin Prince

You have a habit of sleeping heavily. I find it quite fascinating. Your pretty face is totally calm and relaxed. You look like a little child. So innocent, so defenceless.

I can't sleep. I tend to blame you for it, but I'm not sure if I even want to sleep. I like to watch you. It gives me a prospect you'd never allow me to have if you were awake. You don't probably know that I watch you when you sleep. You don't probably know that I have stopped sleeping at night. That's why I am always so tired during the lessons. That's why I sneak out into the garden to have a nap on the lawn as often as possible.

You once asked me if I see different dreams now that I am with you. I told you that the nightmares are gone. You gave me that radiant smile of yours, the one that is only meant for me.

I lied to you back then. I wouldn't really know. I don't sleep anymore. I just watch you. Every single night. It gives me power. It gives me strength to go on without resting. If I feel tired, all I have to do is close my eyes. When I do that, all I see is the image of you, fast asleep. It is all I need.

You are all I need. And yet I need so much more.

I don't understand you. I don't understand your very existence. You don't even look like you could be from this world. Not from any other world, either. You give me shivers.

How can anyone, who's so arrogant and tough on the outside, be so vulnerable and submissive on the inside? I watch you sleep, and I swear I haven't seen anything as beautiful and fragile as you are at this very moment. So out of this world. I could easily dominate you, twist your wrists and break your bones. I'd like to swallow you whole and digest you slowly. I could make you mine. Mine and only mine. For eternity.

A few hours ago you shivered in my arms. You moaned out loud, almost too loud, and myriad electric shocks seemed to be running through your delicate body. You threw your head backwards and gasped, I bowed mine to bury it into the hollow of your neck but your captured my face between your sweaty hands and those silver stars shone as you looked up to me. You whispered my name so quietly, so carefully, like it was the most beautiful word in this world.

It made me want to hit you in the face.

Instead I just smiled to keep you complacent. You smiled back to me, and your smile was so full of emotion, so completely sincere that I couldn't help feeling sick. You parted your lips and I realised from the look in your eyes that you were going to tell me something.

I knew you were going to say something irrevocable, something that would ruin everything. So I bowed down again, this time more determinedly, and tried to suffocate you with my kisses. I felt you give in, relax against me and I knew you weren't going to say it anymore. Just like the night before last night. And the night before that. It's always the same. I always distract you with something. A kiss, a caress, a nibble, a thrust. It works every time. You are so predictable. You are so weak.

You were going to tell me you loved me.

I won't allow that. I don't want to hear it. Not from you.

I can't see it from here, but I know the sun is starting to rise. I have to sneak back to the Gryffindor dorms, just like every morning. And, like every morning, I won't look back. I don't know how you feel in the morning. I don't know what it is like, to fall asleep in my arms and wake up utterly alone. The fact is that I don't really care.

It's not that I don't feel compassion. It's not that I am unemotional or cold. It's not that I don't fancy you.

I just don't really love you.

*****