The Non-Refundable Gift

The Non-Refundable Gift

Oh Gods, there he is.

Shit, I'm acting like a little girl. I hate him you know. I really do. Oh, it's not that pure, wholesome hatred of a few months ago--now it's perverted because I want him. He's corrupted my hatred!!! God damn him, he won't even let me have that anymore. I used to sit and watch, and plot his demise. Now I sit and stare, and daydream, and make up excuses for the far away look in my eyes because my so-called friends refuse to leave me the hell alone. This is what I've been reduced to. I never fucking wanted this. People say love is a gift...fuck that. I tried to return this gift. Apparently, it's one of those 'non-refundable' things. Once it's yours, you either lock it away in a chest so it will never see the light of day again, or you wear it and pretend to enjoy it because you don't want to hurt the giver's feelings. I tried to lock it away, I really did. But it kept showing up at the most inopportune times. For instance, there was this one time--always. It's always there, messing with my insides; and when I try to ignore it, there's--this space that's empty. And it's so damn empty that it hurts somehow.

I mean--why would I want a gift that makes me melt whenever my name passes through his lips? Even if those lips are suck-able and lick-able and taste like...that's not the god damned point!!! The point is...well, the point is that I'm not in control anymore. I can't wait for the day to end so we can go off by ourselves and just...talk. Or sit. Or listen. Or...that's none of your fucking business. My entire day is made or broken by those moments. And he can...see me, you know? He sees everything--he sees the shit that I don't want anyone to see. He has seen things that I wasn't even aware of until he brought them to the forefront. What's even worse...I want him to accept all of it. I want him to see into those dark crevices no one knows of and welcome everything into the light. Damn him.

I'm fucking pathetic...sitting in class, gazing at him and hoping he will turn around and smile at me. Why isn't he turning around? I mean, can he not feel me drilling holes in the back of his head with my gaze? Conceited little shit. This is exactly what I mean...he knows he's in control and he's playing with me. He knows he can make my day with a little fucking smile, so he's withholding it from me. Oh...wait. There it is. What was I saying? Oh, yeah.

You know, love is fucking amazing. It truly is. It's not so bad...letting someone else take control for a little while. And the truth is--I know it cuts both ways. He's scared shitless too, because I hold his reins. Well, I don't mean to say too...I'm not scared. He is though. But he really shouldn't be. I mean, I wouldn't hand the reins over to Crabbe or anything. He has let me in and I will keep his secrets until he kicks me out. I hope that never happens though. Oh, wait. He's walking towards me. He's about to say it...I know he is.

"Draco."

Bless him! Have I told you how much I love this too skinny, bespectacled, standing-there-with-a-goofy-smile-on-his-face boy? Oh shit, he's yanking me into an empty classroom now. Joy! Elation!

Well, I think we're off to do things...which are none of your fucking business. Let's just keep this conversation between the two of us, okay?