Threatening to break it for the final time
And you'll believe it, yes, you will believe it
But look, nobody's off the hook
Nobodyís off the hook
By: Rufus Wainright
Severus stared across the classroom at the object of his desire, as her gaze wandered onto hers. He saw her eyes widen, her lips part, and her cheeks slightly redden. He was sure, if by some God given chance, Severus could feel her pulse it would have quicken when she looked at her heart's keeper.
Unlike hers, his love was torture. All he could do was endure and hope that one day she would return to him. His love for her made him ill. It set in his stomach like a virus. It lay in his heart like a stone. It was a heavy, painful burden to carry. If her love was like a spell, his was like a hex.
Perhaps it would have been easier if Lilyís devotion werenít spent on such a cheap trinket like James. Severus knew that Lilyís love was priceless. It was like fine food, a meal he used to devour. Now she was dishing it out to someone unworthy. If it had only been someone Severus didnít like, that would be one thing, but he lost her at the hand of an enemy. One who used to seek him out and embarrass him for sheer enjoyment. It was incomprehensible.
He looked down at his parchment and then up at the professor. He was having difficulty concentrating. It was as if his heart was a compass that constantly pointed in her direction. His mind was like a broken record replaying his memories of her. Mostly it went back to the night their paths diverged.
Lately, Severus took even less care of himself. He slept as much as he possibly could and strained to get out of bed each morning. The new day was like a curse, forcing him to get up just to see his life deteriorate even more before his eyes. Watching her being lured further away and deeper into a doomed relationship. His physical hunger had evaporated while his mental appetite consumed him. He grew thinner by the day while his heart and mind grew heavier everyday. He was being eaten up from the inside out.
Once in a while Lilyís eyes would fall upon him. At first they were brimming with fiery anger, then the flame died down and she looked at him with concern. That gave him hope for some time. Concern showed she at least cared and also felt possible regret, but recently her looks had turned into something far worse, pity. That he could not bear. Pity meant she had let go of him entirely and was objective enough to see him from a distance and feel sorry for him.
He sunk deeper in deeper into himself and let life play before his eyes like a black and white film. In his weakest moment he turned his life over to people who pretended to present some solution. He was awaked briefly with hatred and purpose, but eventually that ended more tragically than he could ever imaged. He returned back to the place it had all ended, and as he slept on the cold floor outside a common room he hated; he decided to pick back up the longing, to be engulfed in the empty hunger and to plod on until the end. Some how seeking a resolution he could not comprehend.