silent and colourless | d.m. [✔]

16 | in which

IN WHICH,
under the mistletoe, I taste everything no one else could have given me.

-

It was Christmas time,
Draco Malfoy was staying at Hogwarts;
I was staying at Hogwarts.

And there was mistletoe
in the hallways,
                                everywhere,
Students were kissing
                                everywhere.

I didn't really mind,
And god forbid that
I ever care.

There was mistletoe in the 
dormitories too,
white, fragile, angelic
pieces of magical plants,
which fell apart when lips
touched
beneath them.

I was looking around Hogwarts,
bored and lost,
and thinking about Draco Malfoy,
Draco Malfoy,
Draco Malfoy,
Draco Malfoy -
I was fucking
infatuated.

And he didn't
care.

It's pathetic really,
And I should run away,
Give my heart
a holiday,
a place to rest,
And help it not beat 
half so hard
when his scent invaded everything
I am.

Have you ever been
infatuated with someone?
Have you?

They are all you can think about,
All the time,
Every time,
Any time;
You lose yourself to them,
Thinking about them,
While reminding yourself that:
No, they don't care.

The slightest sign of affection
fills your heart,
The slightest sign of hate
breaks your heart,
And their ignorance of your feelings
relaxes and hurts your heart all the same,
And their rejection
numbs your heart.

My heart was lost
as to what to feel,
the feelings and emotions
tearing my heart apart with fire,
his presence bringing it back
from the ashes,
an undying phoenix of
love.

And then he appears,
and he comes to talk to me,
but I simply look up;
my stomach dropping.

Mistletoe, he whispers.
Well, darling,
we were fated you know?
Written in the stars.

He ignored me for three weeks,
He ignored me for three weeks,
He ignored me for three weeks,
He kissed me.

And he tasted of regret in the shadows
                             of an alley in Hogsmeade;
                             of a thousand burning roses;
                             of safety, of protection;
                             of darkness and kindness;
                             of white lies and death;
                             of a lovestory that would die
                                                                     with him.

But I didn't know all that,
not back then.

I was ignorant and a teenager,
and the Cruciactus Curse wasn't enough
pain,
to make me an adult.