Two Can Play That Game

Entree

"We need to talk," he mumbled, and looked anywhere but her eyes, I've got to do this,

"Look, this is a mistake! We can work things out, I know we can," she protested, as she reached for his hands, he looked at her and saw the tears that welled up in her eyes, "this is us we're talking about," she wistfully added to herself. She tried willing herself to not cry; she had to be strong.

"Don't," he spoke softly and stood back, away from her hands, the twigs snapped and made them both jump. Both their nerves were riled up. It had been going on for nearly a month now; his coldness towards her had strained them both.

They had gone to a clearing in the forest, their clearing. It was the place where he first told her he loved her and where the memory of their first kiss remains.

It was where they had started; it was now where they were going to end.

"I love you," she offered, for two years you've been my best friend, my boyfriend, my comfort, my strength.

"Don't," he repeated, his voice filled with pain, "you're just making it worse." He wiped her eyes with his thumbs and took one last glance at her. How can anything be worse, my whole world is crumbling in front of me.

I love you too, he wanted to bid in return, but knew it could only make the pain deepen, he closed his eyes.

"Do you feel like this isn't happening? Like we could wake up and it'll just be one lonely nightmare; that we could suddenly wake up and find ourselves in each others arms again?" he wondered aloud, and laughed piteously to himself. "This is us we're talking about!" he agreed with her, pushing back his raven hair.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asked as she stared at him laugh, why was he laughing at a time like this? The look in his eyes told her no. It was an attempt to prevent his tears. "Don't you want me anymore?" she asked desperately, the pained look she saw in his eyes was enough to make her dissolve. She should've known the answer from his glance, but refused to believe any conclusions her mind jumped to; they had been wrong before.

She gaped at him, now unsure of what he would say; once she was so sure. She wouldn't believe it until she heard it from him. He wanted desperately to gather her in his arms, assure her everything was alright; promise her the world. But he just stood there, unmoving. He decided they had both taken enough. It was time to end this.

With his silence her heart felt like it turned to ice, gently cracking. Realising he wasn't going to answer her, she persisted in questioning him,

"Don't you love me anymore?" she whispered, so scared of the answer that awaited her.

Of course I love you.

"No," he declared. With that blow, her heart shattered; leaving only a crevice to remind her of what once was there. He closed his eyes, he didn't want them betraying the conflict of his answer; the falseness. Being the smartest witch in school - probably - it was the first time she treaded on such a diverse territory.

"Well, I don't want you either," she replied, straight faced, looking straight at his closed eyes willing them to open, just so she could see any flicker of emotion that might cross them. She couldn't stand being perceived as weak, especially now. An invisible axe plunged into his chest, fabricated by her equally harsh words. He kept his eyes closed, knowing all his pain would be apparent through his eyes.

The Boy Who Lived was scarred now more than ever, while the bushy-haired bookworm never felt more alone. How did it lead to this? What happened? What went wrong?

They stared into the night sky; both knew they had just lied, not only to themselves but, worst, to the other. However, both foolhardily believed the reckless words thrown at them.

It was over.