Annihilation - h.s.

Prelude

I look at him, searching for any resemblance to the man who once held immeasurable beauty in my eyes, and see nothing. He is the same man; I know it, only now I see him in full light. Every carefully placed lie that he's ever told me - every word he's ever spoken to mask his intentions - has shattered, slicing me as the truth is revealed.

He stands tall before me, clothed in his black t-shirt and jeans, but now they seem darker than before. His dishevelled brown curls once called for my fingers, but now I'm afraid they would get caught in the curly crepuscule if they reached for him. His jaw is defined as he grinds his teeth, but now it seems too sharp to touch. Even the tattoos masking his neck and his arms seem untruthful, like they would burn me if I tried to trace them again. Three rings constrict his fingers as he clenches his hands in to fists. They, too, seem tainted with darkness. His teeth are clamped down tightly on his lip. His stone-green eyes bore into mine, but he's not there. Not really. My Harry no longer exists.

In reality, he never did.

The air around him is thick, almost suffocating. The shrill silence pierces my ears as I wait for his answer.

Unable to look at him any longer, I glance at the girl to my right. Only now am I noticing how hideously out of place she is in the room surrounding her. Her foggy brown eyes, wide and red-rimmed from tears. Her mahogany hair, dull and dead, falls down to her torso.

I can't bare the sight of myself like this; standing weak and powerless in the mirror, so I turn from my reflection back to Harry. The power of his stare hasn't faltered in the least.

He stands still. So do I. All movement in the room has been vanquished.

He is the same man; I know it. I just can't seem to connect the Harry I knew - who flipped a coin between his fingers when he got nervous, who sang in the shower, who kissed my shoulders just because he wanted to - with the man in front of me who has been precisely delineated in the document that I'm holding.

"Tell me that this is a lie." I hold up the envelope, begging him, pleading for a reason why it couldn't possibly be right. "Tell me it wasn't you."

Harry slowly closes his eyes, firmly pressing his lips shut and pulling his eyebrows together upon their reopening. He remains silent, and in his hesitation, I find my answer.

This time, the silence screams at me. It chuckles with malice at my expense. It answers all of my questions. It whispers everything that I don't want to hear.

****

Disclaimer:

This fan-fiction will contain violence, drug use, and smut. If that isn't something you want to read, then don't. If it is, read on!

This is an entirely fictionnal work. We do not personally know any of the characters, companies or places depicted in this story. Names and appearences of real people are used solely for inspiration. This work is 100% original.

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