My Heart is on my Sleeve... Wear it like a Bruise or Blackeye

She says his name like it's something secret. All she wanted was someone she didn't really have to love. For her, pretending was easier than actually feeling. But he couldn't complain. He had known this all along. He had known that she was using him to fill whatever holes of loneliness the rest of the boys had left in her heart; huge, gaping holes that never seemed to heal. It was quite the tragedy. She would never truly love, not with her heart. There wasn't enough left for something that hard.

She hated him, really. He was everything she had and nothing she wanted. She wanted so desperately for him to need her, to want her, to save her. She felt as though she was drowning, holding her last breath, never to break the surface of the water that held her under. Could he not pull her from this watery grave? No. It was the simplest answer to a ridiculous question. No one could help her now. She was too far under and too stubborn to ask for anything. Her life was the funniest joke the world had ever told. And what really made her laugh was that she didn't even get it.

****

It was a cool morning, drizzly and drab. Mist rose from the still water of the lake, trailing off towards the cloudy, gray sky. Harry Potter stood at the water's edge, his bare feet sinking down into the mud. He wiggled his toes, listening to the squelching sound and wishing for the first time in his life he was anywhere but Hogwarts. He seemed to be losing everything. His friendships, his love-life, his mind, all were in danger of being irreversibly lost forever. But what he hated even more was that he didn't care. He was too calm, too tired to even worry about it. He thought maybe if he wasn't at Hogwarts, the place where he was so comfortable, then he could start to lose some sleep over things. It was the strangest feeling he had ever experienced. Utter exhaustion coupled with an overwhelming feeling of longing.

****

Ginny couldn't seem to concentrate. Not in Potions, or Charms, or Transfiguration, or Herbology, or Divination. She couldn't focus on the fact that it was time for lunch, or that she had an essay due in Defense of the Dark Arts the next day. Things seemed to swirl around in her head, messy and complicated. Of course, that was the way things were in her life these days.

"Hey, Gin." Harry's voice was behind her, his arms wrapped around her waist, his breath in her ear. She shook him off, looking around, hoping no one was watching. "Harry, please, you're embarrassing me," she whispered, her face red and a little annoyed.

"Who am I embarrassing you in front of? It's not like everyone doesn't know about us," Harry said shrugging. Ginny looked up at him, shock in her brown eyes.

"Did you just say everyone knows about us? How does everyone know? Why did you tell?" Her voice was becoming higher pitched, the way it did when she was upset.

"I didn't know you cared! I mean, seriously Ginny, did you think it wouldn't ever get out?" Harry's voice had an edge to it, one that she had heard a lot lately. She threw up her hands, and began to walk away. She felt his hand, gripping her arm tightly, pulling her back.

"What's your problem?" he asked under his breath, pulling her close to him so no one else could hear them.

"You are my problem, Harry Potter," she said, not bothering to lower her voice, "I hate you." She turned on her heel and walked away, leaving a far too lucid Harry Potter behind.

****

"Lie to me," she said. He wrapped his arms around her body, and pulled her close.

"Your life is full of too many lies, Ginny."

"Lies are easier to believe than the truth. They can't hurt you unless you decide to let them. The truth doesn't even wait for you to decide," she sighed, settling into the feeling of his hold. It was comfortable, nothing more than that. That façade of contentment was just another lie, one that Ginny wasn't going to let harm her.

"I don't want to hurt you," he muttered. She basked in the silent darkness for a moment, and then said,

"I won't let your lies touch me. Just lie to me, Harry." The words he whispered into her lips made her shiver,

"I love you."

I'm holding out and I'm holding onto every letter and every grudge.

I pulled myself out of the day we ever had to meet.

Are you through with me?

When it all goes to hell will you be able to tell me you're sorry with a straight face?

I'm all ears and I'm all scars to hear you tell me, "Boys like you try so hard not to look desperate."

I'm hanging on, but I still know how to make your makeup run.

Take this to your grave and I'll take it to mine.