Regrets (Feltson One Shot)

He knew he loved her. Right from the start, he did. He was just too much of a coward to tell her then because he was afraid of what she would have said, considering the fact that they were just teenagers then. But now, they were both in their twenties. The film series had just ended and truth be told, he felt as if a huge part of him was taken away from him. These films were his life. These films were, after all, what turned him into who he was today because he did portray the character for half his life. But most importantly, these were what brought him to her.

He could still vividly picture in his mind the audition around twelve years ago. He remembered himself perched on the edge of his seat as they were being called in one by one. She was there too, sitting opposite him, along with all the other girls. Her nose was buried in a book. Looking at her, he knew she had the character she was aiming for already in her. It was as if Hermione’s character was written explicitly for her. She looked up from her book from time to time, glancing over to the white door of the room where auditions were being held and would exhale deeply. He figured it was a nervous habit.

And he found it cute.

He also remembered the first day of shooting. He arrived at the studio, shaking with anxiety. And his heart thumped even louder in his chest when he caught sight of her. They’ve never spoken to each other. They didn’t even know each other’s names yet seeing her there in her gray sweater and worn-out sneakers made him feel a sense of security.

Like there was absolutely nothing to be nervous about.

The first scene they shot were the ones in the Great Hall, for it involved a good number of extras. They were all dressed in the Hogwarts robes. His blond hair was swept back neatly, giving it a sleek appearance. The entire time he was being fixed by his personal stylists, he had his eyes glued to her. They had just put make-up on her face, making her a hundred times more beautiful than she already was. She looked in his direction and he immediately looked away, praying she hadn’t noticed he had been staring. Thinking it was safe to look again, he turned his gaze to her and that was the first time they had made eye contact. She had the most beautiful eyes ever. Its shade changed depending on the light that struck it. But he had settled on one colour. A soft, hazelnut brown. Surprisingly, she didn’t break the stare. They just looked at each other intently for a full ten seconds, both of their lips twitching as they suppressed shy smiles.

He remembered a lot of things when it came to her. But the ones he knew he would never ever forget were the days when they shot the Yule Ball. She wore a purple dress that elegantly moved with every step. Her curls were tied up. Her lips were the pinkest they ever were. And he had wanted nothing more than to feel them against his own. But he didn’t tell her that, of course. He couldn’t.

He laughed softly to himself and shook his head, clearing all the thoughts that were mostly about her before he said something stupid that he would regret later on. Thinking of her made him feel guilty. Guilty because he didn’t man up when he had the chance. Guilty because he didn’t make the first move, even if he knew all too well she was waiting for him to.

“Tom,” said a voice from behind him.

It was gentle and sweet. And he would recognize that voice anywhere, without missing a beat. He turned around and there she was, beaming up at him with tears in the corners of her eyes. She enveloped him in a hug, her chin resting on his shoulder. He broke the hug and let himself get an eyeful of her . . . and the stunning wedding gown she was in.

“I didn’t think you’d come.” She admitted with a teasing smile.

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” He replied, looking at her with as much love in his heart as he did the night they shared their first kiss together. It was a reckless kiss, one they didn’t plan and one that certainly took them both by surprise.

But it felt right.

To both of them.

She smiled at him one more time before her circle of girlfriends stole her to take pictures with the newlywed couple. He didn’t refuse though because he had no right to. He had no right whatsoever over her. He wasn’t hers. He was never hers. And he hated himself for that. If he hadn’t been such a coward, he knew it could’ve been him who waited at the other end of the aisle. It could’ve been him who slipped a golden ring through that slender finger. It could’ve been him who was going to make so much pleasant memories with her. It could’ve been him who would father her future children. It could’ve been him who would hear her say “I love you” or “I miss you” over the phone whenever they were on opposite halves of the globe for work.

It could’ve been him.

And as heartbreaking as it is, they both knew that . . .