wrong, your warm breath plumes out in front of your lips and my eyes linger.

if i didn't know any better i'd say you looked concerned, worried for me, even.

but that's a lie.

i know you don't care about me - as far as this little experiment goes.

i'm here now though, for as long as the world will bid me so i grab you by your jacket and kiss you roughly - letting go not a moment later.

you blink - surprised - i like catching you off guard.

what was that for?

i don't know, it was a blunt truth and no room for argument.

you weren't deterred, what's wrong?

i don't know, i gestured a hand out, the pale skin cutting through the air like a dove, perhaps the fact that you dragged me out to my parents' grave?

when's the last time you've visited them?

my brows crease, not seeing the point of this. you weren't sentimental. do you visit yours?

your jaw tenses. my what?

you said your parents are dead, do you visit their graves?

ink spills into your eyes - cold - colder than the snow around us. i don't care to.

and neither do i... i trail, slating my eyes back to their names. it hurts too much.

you hum and you're looking at me in interest, dissecting and filing away my expression.

i've never met anyone who actually liked their parents.

i scoff and turn, the crunch of snow beating next to me as you follow. hardly anyone likes their parents.

you do.

no i don't - didn't. loving and liking are two different things.

explain it to me, your tone held the curiosity of a child.

why?

i want to know.

but why? i press. please, just fucking answer me.

you shift, so unlike you, you seem uncertain and i stop. craning my neck back and i take in the bleeding rosiness of your cheeks and nose. how flakes of soft cotton catch in your hair before dissolving into the ebony curls.

you're hauntingly beautiful - my own angel of death.

because i don't understand, your voice quiet but steady like fog.

i feel my heart rotting like days old fruit, mushy and putrid and runny yet still sickly sweet - all for you.

sighing as my resolve crumbles, i see the glimmer of victory in your gaze and i hate you.

i love you but i don't like you. i don't like anything about you. yet i love everything at once. i don't know how else to put it.

i don't say it - but you hear - and you become frozen like the statues around us.

you look frightened - or at most uncomfortable - i want to laugh to ignore the hurt.

so i do.

i laugh till i cry and your jaw strains - diana.

what? my smile cuts viciously into a sneer.

you look like you want to crawl out of your own skin, mouth opening and closing as if you can't breathe.

what is it? spit it out.

your throat clears, a white hand shaking out of your pocket and through your hair. the sight almost romantic.

i like you, i do. there's a tense pause and it feels as if he'd slipped a dagger between my ribs and pricked at my heart. very much, your bottom lip tugs at the words.

i can't tell if you're lying - i feel sick.

shaking my head i turn and keep walking - feet pushing and dragging and i feel as if i'm moving through a stream of rushing water.

you follow after, almost looking desperate.

oh you do? the words singe the air. despite the fact that i'm a muggle born? no you don't.

i do.

and the poor grades? you're like a lion, clawing at my heels as i try to escape but you'd always be one second away from upending my world.

no, diana. i do. i like you.

the next to none connections. the stubbornness. the arguments. we never get along.

we're at my door but your hand clamps around the back of my neck like a shackle - yanking me around and into you - eyes piercing and tearing me apart from the inside.

no, you shook your head. eyes burning with such a fervor i've only ever seen when you're working. i like you. i like everything about you. just as you are. your brows then crease, you're staring at me as if i was some holy artefact you shouldn't even be in the presence of. and i don't know why. but i do. i like you, very much.

i can feel my eyes gloss, acid welling in them but by jaw tightens and i pull away - my throat trembling as i keep the pain at bay - or at least try to.

no - i shook my head. my whole body thrumming with electricity and magic and it hurts yet it's numbing. no, no. stop it. that's not fair.

melted snow painted us like gasoline and i wish i would just burn already.

stop being cruel and light the match.

you seem even more confused by my hurt - probably thinking this sudden revelation of your controversial feelings would make me feel better.

or perhaps this was another ploy - make me fall deeper and i'll be more blind.

you want me for my mind, not my heart or anything else. i should be relieved but now i only want to die.

you like me but you do not love me.

i knew you never would - it still hurts.

you're crying.

i sniff and drag my hands across my cheeks sharply and everything aches - god i wish i let you die.

you look like you'd rather be anywhere than in front of me and i choke out a laugh - mixed with a sob.

you sigh - the notion caught in the crisp air - then pull out a small bag that jingled and rattled with the sound of glass.

i brought the ingredients.

i finally feel my heart stutter to a stop - the pain is gone. everything is.

catatonic bliss.

my hands clasp over yours, slipping the velvet into my fingers. opening the door i step inside, sparing you one last indifferent glance.

leave me alone, tom.

your eyes darken - confused and concerned. i see one your cracks deepen - one could say you looked hurt for once. vulnerable.

i don't care anymore.

diana -

i'll make the potion - just leave.

you don't budge - wanting to say more.

please.

you're gone with a turn and i shut the door softly.